Oh, wat a beautiful morning!

Actually it was a beautiful morning, so cool I couldn't put the top down on my car. But what I really meant, with all due respect to Oklahoma, is "Oh, what a beautiful weekend." Last night I went to a reading and book signing--it pleases me that TCU Press is still publishing books I acquired (it may not please the current director as much, but he hasn't squawked). This was C.W.Smith's novel, Steplings, which I really think is good. We published four of Charlie's novels. Although I knew the passages he read, it was fun to hear it in his voice. Afterward went to dinner with Charlie, his wife and daughter and the guy who filmed his video trailer, plus his publicist who is a friend. We go way back and have lots of ties in common, so it was especially good to visit with Lisa Taylor.

Today I worked--ran some errands but was home by 9:30 and applied myself to the computer--sent out invitations to the next Bookish Frog event, roughed out a speech to book clubs, finished rereading what I've written on mystery #3 and even wrote about a thousand new words. Hooray for me.
Tonight I had dinner with Kathie and Rick, two dear friends, and an added bonus was that we went to Lucille's where they're having Lobsterama--all kinds of lobster dishes at reasonable prices. I had a whole Maine lobster with drawn butter and a salad with blue cheese dressing--but not the house blue cheese vinaigrette that I thought I was ordering. Kathie refused to fight with taking a lobster out of the shell and had a lobster roll, but Rick and I both had the whole thing. Somewhere along the way I learned to deal with lobster fairly easily, and I do love it. I would always order the whole thing just to get the claw meat--so succulent and sweet.
Tomorrow I'll meet Jordan at church and then we'll come home for chicken salad for lunch. Then I get to nap and work on the novel again. And I plan to experiment and fix myself a spinach souffle for supper. The real reason that I went out this morning was that I forgot to bu spinach.
My kind of weekend.

The glory of an empty day--and dreams of Scotland

This morning the day loomed before me, nicely empty. I got Jacob off to a soccer game by 7:45 and then piddled. Did go pick up my car and trade in the loaner that I didn't like. Then ran to Central Market, mostly to buy chocolate, and CVS pharmacy because I had a terrific discount card--bought a year's worth of allergy medicine! But I was home by just after ten, with the day all mine. I wrote 2600 words--please get used to this word count because it's going to appear every day, well at least on the days I feel good enough about it to report. Had a wonderful leftover piece of meatloaf for lunch plus cucumber slices splashed with red wine vinegar and sprinkled lightly with black pepper--try it sometime. Really refreshing.
Worked again in the afternoon, some writing, some reading of a heavy book I'm to review, paid a few bills, etc. And then a nice long nap, so nice that once again I lay in bed dozing until Jordan and Jacob barged into the bedroom, and Jacob demanded that I get up.
He and I had a lovely evening--went for dinner with good friend and surrogate daughter Sue Boggs and her kids--Alex, 15, and Hunter, 12. When they moved in next door to me, Hunter was in kindergarten and Alex in third grade. Now they've grown into real conversationalists and interesting people. They were patiently amused by chatterbox Jacob, who seemed to spin story after story out of his vivid imagination. I told him if he didn't say, "I don't like that" and had good table manners, I'd give him ice cream with chocolate sauce when we got home. True to form, after I poured chocolate sauce on his ice cream, he said, "I wanted vanilla." I left him eating--or not eating--the ice cream with chocolate.
An anonymous commenter on this blog--I know who it is--says he's getting irritated by my car and he only has to read about it. Well, tonight I'm irritated too. Jacob and I decided to put the top down (since it's just been fixed) on the way to dinner--but I couldn't get it unlatched. Sigh. Another trip to VW. I am indeed getting tired of this, but I like my bug so much bettr than the loaner Jetta. I'm sticking with it.
I've been joking about moving to Scotland if a certain candidate is elected president (anonymous: you know who I mean). Now I know I'm not adventuresome enough to do that, but sometimes the idea has appeal. Colin said today they would come visit and suggested I spend six months there and six months here. Could I afford that? And what about my dogs? But still I have this idyllic vision of living in a small town and taking my meals in a pub where I'd meet friendly people. I guess it will remain a pipe dream--or the stuff of a novel. I think I know the town--and the pub--of my choice.

A long day but a wonderful dinner

All my days have been long this week, since the arrival of Sophie.  She's now contentedly chewing on my shoes. I know it's a horrible precedent, but I'm letting her because they're so stretched out and awful I can't keep them on my feet, and I have new replacements. But if she goes after the new shoes, we'll have a discussion. I seem to spend my days saying "No" to electrical cords, throws and rugs with fringes, etc. Nothing daunts her.
However, Scooby continues to be afraid, and I continue to put them together in the evening, even if only for an hour. I pet and love Scooby the whole time he's in the office with her. I've had to move my wicker chair out of the office every time I bring Sophie in here because she chews on it--which could be fatal. But the worst is that she jumped out of her playpen three times today. Breeder suggests some kind of netting, which I think is a good idea. This weekend, we'll change the wicker chair for the overstuffed one in my bedroom--the plaid throw can go on the overstuffed chair without dragging on the floor and tempting Li'l Bit, as I sometims call her. She is so full of life and happy she's just irresistible.
The cat is another big problem--I think his body is shutting down. He ate very little yesterday and peed less, ate nothing today. Tonight when I came home from dinner I took care of the older animals first--put Scooby in the office with treats, picked up Wywy to get his food out of the fridge. He peed all over the kitchen floor and me (while I was holding him), then yowled when I put him on his counter for food and seemed to stagger a moment. I'm afraid the inevitable is coming. Jordan had a cat that got so weak and bad that Christian finally persuaded her they would have to put it to sleep the next day--the cat died in her sleep that night. I wish such an end for Wywy--I hate to make that decision, but I don't want him to suffer.
Bright note in my day: Betty, Jeannie and I celebrated our June/July birthdays with dinner at Taverna, an Italian restaurant I'd not been to before. We had a wonderful, seasoned flatbread for an appetizer, then each had starters--they both had shrimp (I swear they do that because they know I can't eat it) and I had carpaccio, which I can never resist. This came with paper thin slices of pecorino and a salad of greens with a creamy dressing and lots of capers. Wonderful. I had a flourless chocolate cake with a molten chocolate center set on zabaglione (there wasn't much of it) and raspberry sauce--just four little dots on the plate, but it was all good. Now I'm full and happy. Scooby having endured an hour in the office with Sophie is happily in his bed, and Wywy has slunk off somewhere. I'll have to go look for him and love on him.
Is it any wonder that when I took a nap today I really, really didn't want to get up?

Stay at home and put nose to grindstone

This has been day one of my two-day stay-at-home and really work project. I got off to a slow start--slept really late, then fixed myself a better breakfast than usual, read emails, showered, did my yoga, and started a laundry. But about eleven, I settled down to sort my tax information. I decided with a long day in front of me that was the project I should do--it's one I just have to dig in and get done rather than work at in spurts. Either my accountant or I are psychic--his annual questionnaire arrived in the mail this afternoon. I'm not done, but I'm darn close--and glad to have it done.
I did sort of hate to stay in all day and work, since the sun was warm and cheering today. Temperature about where it should be, mid-fifties, though these days I always feel cold and welcome my flannel snuggie. I kind of wanted to join the cat in that wonderful patch of sun in the back room, which faces south.
Tomorrow will be devoted to a paper I promised to write for the Texas State Historical Association, to be delivered by good friend Fran Vick at the annual meeting in El Paso. I just don't pick up and go to far places like El Paso as easily as Fran does. The paper is on writing historical fiction for young adults, so it won't take much research--I can just write about the books I've done and the research for them.
But my two-day plan was pleasantly interrupted (actually I had seen it as a test of my self-satisfaction or ability to stand my own company or something like that). Melinda emailed about a birthday lunch for our co-worker (even though I'm retired, I'm still considered a part of the office in many ways and I appreciate that). So that's tomorrow. Then a friend called and said, "Can you have dinner tonight?" Both invitations pleased me, and we had a good supper and long overdue and much enjoyed visit over comfort food. We went to the Old Neighborhood Grill, down the streeet from my house, and I saw and chatted with several people I know, to the point I felt like a social butterfly. More encouragement.
When I came home I guess my brain was too tired for figures, but I wrote three and a half pages of the historical paper. Now I'm allowing myself to quit, read, and be lazy.

My KInd of Sunday

It was definitely my kind of day, with a twinge of guilt because I didn't go to church. But I slept so late that when I finally pushed back the covers both animals were desparate--the dog to go pee, the cat to eat (I remember going to the bathroom at 4:00 a.m. and being so in a good sleep mood that I didn't feed him as I often do). I piddled--washed my hair, read the paper, read e-mails--until almost ten. Then baked the cookie dough I'd made last night and got things ready for supper tonight. Even made homemade croutons--they are so much better, you wonder why you ever use the others. Tonight I saved the leftover salad--not sure if I'll eat it tomorrow or not but it had sliced hearts of palm, feta, and those good croutons. I thought just lettuce would make a dull salad and hadn't thought to buy an avocado or anything, so I searched the cupboard. I always have hearts of palm and I had French bread to serve tonight--voila! a salad!
Then I spent much of the afternoon reading the novel I'm deep into--one reason I'm not a great, famous and wealthy writer is that I keep getting distracted  reading other people's books. I tell myself it's education.Took a nap and then bustled around getting dinner ready.The black bean soup was great--saute onion and garlic in olive oil, add 1 can diced tomatoes with juice, 2 cans of black beans drained and rinsed, 2 tsp. cumin, a tsp. chili powder, a cup and a half chicken broth,some cilantro chopped. Take out a cup, puree it in the blender, and return to the soup. Serve topped with cilantro and feta.
I also served the oatmeal/cranberry/white chocolate cookies I made this morning--oh, my, did those cookies smell good when they came out of the oven! And they were good tonight, even if not still warm and fragrant. My breakfast for tomorrow: two oatmeal cookies.
My dinner guests were my mentor Fred and his wife Patt--we had a lovely visit, talking about craft projects, travels, a little bit of a lot and a little bit of nothing. Fred has been in my life since the late 1960s when he hand-carried me through the TCU English doctoral program. And he still critiques, advises, etc. and makes a great lunch companion.
A thoroughly nice day. Sorry I have no profound insights or thoughts to contribute to the general good.

Waking and Sleeping

In the last four days I've written about 8,000 words on my novel. I have, as they say, gotten into it. This morning, I woke up at 2:30 from a sound sleep but could not get back to sleep. I was living out scenes from the novel in my head, working out the future plot, even figured out how the protagonist saves herself  from the villain. For too long I kept abandoning this novel, then coming back to it. I think because the world of it didn't seem real. Now it does, and the characters do--this late in the manuscript (54,000 words, thank you very much), they're taking on personality and depth. When I do that first rewrite I'll be more confident about who they are. I want to toss the world aside and write, write, write, but of course I can't do that, particularly not this week. My horoscope this morning said the world would keep me very busy in the beginning of the week and then leave me hanging. My calendar indicates just the opposite. Anyway, having my muse talk to me is great, but I'd like some sleep, please. The late Dorothy Johnson (A Man Called Horse, The Hanging Tree, etc.) used to say if her muse wasn't talking to her she might as well go scrub windows. One day she wrote that she'd just had an awful shock: she was working on a novel about NYC during WWII, called The Unbombed, because New Yorkers always lived in fear of bombings. She wrote she'd had a terrible disappointment: her muse had just told her that the man she thought was going to be the hero was going to be killed in the war. I know the feeling--the villain in my current work-in-progress has changed three times, but I think now I finally know who it is.
I am still exporing the possibility of self-publishing this novel, since the others haven't sold. It's a whole new world out there, and self-publishing has lost its stigma, may have some distinct advantages.
Lovely dinner tonight with old friends, couples who knew each other from way back but don't visit often. Nice to bring people together. The two men were both Air Force pilots so there was a lot of flying talk, and one is a docent at the Carter where Kathie plans to volunteer, so they all had a lot to talk about. My meatballs were good--sitting overnight really did improve them, softened what I thought was too strong a tomato paste taste--and the mashed potatoes with spinach and gruyere were wonderful. For an appetizer, I served store-bought hummus--I've found a brand I really like, Cedar's Original, and I plopped a couple of defrosted cubes of pesto down in the middle. Great combination. Kathie brought chocolate cake for dessert, so it was a festive and good meal.
Nice day. Much better than yesterday. And I did write 2,000 words. Moving on.

Sushi and friends

Had dinner with good friends Elizabeth (Beth to the rest of the world but it's a long story) and Weldon at the Tokyo Cafe tonight. It's always too long between our visits. Elizabeth was a work-study student in my office some fifteen years ago, and we have remained friends ever since. When she began dating Weldon, I admitted him cautiously but a now as fond of him as of her, and they make each othe very happy. Elizabeth has developed a great careeer in specialized publishing (for accountants) and is now teaching yoga, including to me.We had a great visit, and I thank them for yet another after-the-fact birthday dinner. I tried to post the sushi on Weight Watchers and of couse the kind I had--Seattle Sunrise, with cucumber, cream cheese and smoked salmon in a soy wrap--wasn't listed. So I fudged.

Today was a top-down day--haircut, grocery, dinner--I put the top down on all my small trips, delighted that it now seems to work fine. (Please keep your fingers crossed.) I hate to leave it with the top down when it malfunctions because I'm afraid someone will steal my handicapped tag. Tonight when I got in the car, the temperature thing read 101--now I know that wasn't true! By the time I got home it was 89. A few minutes ago I started hearing a strange noise--looked out the window and it's raining, fairly hard. No thunder, no lightning, just plain steady rain. We have been blessed with first light rains early in the week and then an apparently violent storm that I slept through a couple of nights ago, complete with a tornado warning. We need it and welcome it, but Central Texas needs it worse. They're comparing this to the 1950s drought which prompted Elmer Kelton's award-winning novel, The Time It Never Rained.

Haven't down much constructive today, so I'm going to finish the cookbook chapter I stopped in the middle of.

Rain and other good things

Most of Texas is stuck in a 50-year drought which is calling up memories of the drought of the 1950s and, for me at least, of Elmer Kelton's classic novel, The Time It Never Rained--if you haven't read it, you should. But in Fort Worth yesterday and today we've had intermittent slow drizzle and, nicest of all, low temperatures. Not enough rain to make a difference, but as I write I can hear it raining again. Granted, it's awfully humid, but tonight there was a nice breeze on the porch. I had dinner guests and one of them is a self-confessed "weather wuss," so we didn't even have wine and appetizers on the porch. But last night I sat out for a while--no wine, no book--and just enjoyed the drizzle.
Today I took an umbrella with me but only used it on the way to my garage--when it was raining pretty hard. Went by the office to pick up some files Melinda had put on a disk, and then Jeannie and I had lunch at a restaurant where we don't go often enough. I splurged on a half a pimiento sandwich. Oh, my big good news--I lost the weight I had gained when the kids were here and can now boast again of a 10-lb. weight loss. But it's taken lots of weeks to do it. Slow, they say, is best. Anyway, Jeannie and I went on to Origins so I could buy some cosmetics with my birthday discount and then to DSW where neither of us saw shoes we couldn't live without.
Tonight, friends Kathie and Carol came for supper to celebrate the July birthdays Carol and I share, albeit a little late for both birthdays. I fixed the seasoned hummus I did when the kids were here, chicken loaf (I loved it so the last time), roasted asparagus with goat cheese and panko (a waste--plain asparagus would have been better), and a fruit salad. It was a fun evening.
But what they say about retirement is true--you're just too busy to get anything done. I have several projects on my desk and just committed to another one--a contribution to a history of the Texas College of Osteopathic Medicine/University of North Texas Health Sciences Center. I'm to write about "The Beginning," which believe me, I was there for. So 3500-4000 words shouldn't be too hard, but first I have to finish this cookbook I'm editing.
And best of all, I can still sleep late, digress when I want, go to lunch (my social calendar is very full!), and I'm actually learning to slow down. When I get emails that would have required a director's decision, I gleefully pass them on to my boss, the interim director.

Writing, retirement, Memorial Day

On AgentQuest, the Sisters in Crime listserv for writers not yet published and seeking either an agent or publisher, there's a lot of talk about being in limbo. That's where I am--in limbo. I've had a full manuscript out to a publisher for almost six months--and they request an exclusive, so I cannot try another other avenues. Meantime I've been writing the sequel and am about to finish it and am already worrying about what's next. Today I thought again about food writing--maybe because after two signings my head is big over Cooking My Way Through Life with Books and Kids. But tonight I got out a book I'd read two or three years ago--Will Write for Food. It's a how-to guide for everything from cookbooks to writing fiction with food to restaurant reviewing (which I used to do years ago but am not sure my palate is sophisticated enough these days). I would like, as I said before, to write a review blog or column, about food writing and mysteries with food a primary element. I'm just not sure how to go about it. I think I'll request a review copy of one book I really want to read and see if that works--and gives me ideas. Then there are older books I've enjoyed that I could review--the one mentioned above or Julie and Julia, about the young woman in a tiny New York apartment kitchen who decides to cook every recipes in Julia Child's The Art of Mastering French Cooking, or anything by Ruth Reichel, now editor of Gourmet and formerly restaurant reviewer for, I think, The New York Times. She can be hysterically funny but she's also informative. Maybe what I need to do is apply myself. The mystery writer J. A. Jance once told me, rather peevishly, that the way to write a mystery is to put your bottom in the chair before the computer and go at it (I later learned she had just had a death in the family so I forgive her impatience) but I beg to differ. It's not tht easy--yes, maybe that's the way to write it, but then you have to find agent, publisher, etc. and that's hard and, to me, depends part on luck. But nothing ventured, nothing gained, so I'll keep trying on both fronts.

Meanwhile, I've been practicing for retirement today--slept late and piddled, something it's taken me hard practice to learn to do. I once wrote an article on the art of learning to putz but the editor changed it to putter because of unfortunate Yiddish connotations of the word putz. But anyway, it's the art of learning to do not much. This morning I slept late, lingered over the paper and my low fat breakfast, chunked up some fruit for a salad to take to friends tonight and put together an asparagus dish (you coat asparagus in a little bit of melted butter, top with crumbled goat cheese and bread crumbs and bake for 10 minutes at 400--delicious). Then I did my yoga, read emails and answered some, caught up on blogs and Facebook, and by then it was lunchtime. Read for a while, napped, and got ready to go to dinner.
Jean Walbridge had fixed steak and baked potatoes and sliced tomatoes. I added the aspargus dish and fruit that we had for dessert. All delicious. She served fat-free yogurt with the potatoes and it was great--my deal from now on. The three of us had a pleasant dinner, and Jim showed me the concept--and some samples--of the art he's working on now. Carvings where texture in the wood indicates texture in the coat of animals--like the mane of a lion or the ruff of a buffalo. Fascinating stuff. He showed me pictures of some early American art from which he got the idea. And I laughed to learn that when he has an idea he sketches right away--even on the margins of the program in church. Jim feels about his art like I do about my writing--we do it regardless, because we keep having ideas and because we cannot NOT do it. Jean's form of the addiction is weaving--with very fine yarns, for which I would never have the patience! But we are all three lucky to have found our avocations.

Lots of stuff, none of it really major

I've been silent on the blog the last couple days, but life hasn't been exactly smooth--I had two crises a work that have really hit me hard. One made me think I have not been paying enough attention to my responsibilities, because some work requested by and sent to the press that headquarters our consortium was inadequate and inaccurate. I corresponded with a colleague there a whole lot--she was most patient with my guilt and angst--until she finally wrote, "This horse is dead." The other had to do with jacket design, and I overrode the designer and my staff to pick the jacket the author wanted. I felt like we'd had a family quarrel. Melinda always says she makes business decisions with her head, I make them with my heart. And my boss says she analyzes things, while I work on instinct. Both were true in this instance, but one of the things I like about TCU Press is that we're author-friendly, we involve authors in the process. I think it's one reason some authors come back to us and new ones are attracted. In this case, the editor of an anthology about El Paso had very firm opinions about what worked and what didn't--she pointed out to me that El Paso is not an overtly religious or Catholic city, the Virgin of the Guadalupe is hackneyed out there, and Franklin Mountain, with its lit star, is an icon for the city. Every opinion I got out of El Paso supported that; every opinion I got out of Fort Worth went for the much more complicated and stylish design. I went with an El Pasoan's knowledge of her city, plus the fact that she's going to be promoting the heck out of this book and she has to be enthusiastic about it.
One of my early novels was about Libbie Custer, published by Bantam. The cover, which they sent me in advance, showed Libby who looked, as one friend said, like Madonna in 19th-century dress, standing in a field of waist-deep grass next to a barbed wire fence, with a stockaded fort sitting on bare brown earth in the background. Well, we had Kansas in the foreground and Arizona in the background--the ubiquitous West. Plus the fact that there were no stockades in the American West--there wasn't enough lumber. Those were back in Michigan, Minnesota, New York, etc. Libbie herself wrote how surprised she was that the "forts" were just a collection of buildings with no fence, no clear border or protection. And barbed wire? It was introduced in San Antonio in 1874; Custer died in 1876. There's no way the West was fenced in time for Libby to be standing by that fence. But I was green and didn't know I could complain, so I let it go. But I learned a big lesson. (you can see the cover on my web page, http://www.judyalter.com/). So I guess I'm content with my decision, but I have this unnecessary desperation to convince my staff and the designer.
In happier news, we've found a lovely garden in a prestigious neighborhood for our 2nd annual Books and Music in the Garden event, and I'm looking forward to planning that. So yesterday had a bit of redemption about it.
One of the things in life I hate doing is taking the dog to the vet for his annual checkup. He is so excited to be in the car (and getting him safely in is no easy task) that he whines and moans and jumps about the back seat. When I get to the vet, I call and they come get him (what a blessing!). Yesterday when I picked him up I found he needs anywhere from $400 to $900 worth of dental work. He'll get it Monday, but I will tell them I'm a believer in conservative medical practices--no pulling teeth because they might go bad some day. I've said the same to my own dentist--and it's time for me to start revisiting my dentist, but I'm not thinking about that for a while.
I had a yoga lesson today, and Elizabeth concentrated on teaching me ways to deepen the poses I already do and make them have more effect. It was a really good lesson, and I thought I learned a lot--if I can only remember it. She was really proud of my boat position and my ability to flow from butterfly to boat and back. Nice to be getting good at something.
After the lesson, she went and got Weldon, her husband, and the three of us went to dinner at Chadra, a Lebanese/Italian place down the street. I had kibbeh, which I'd never had. It's ground sirloin, pine nuts, and I don't know what all, wrapped in ground lamb and deep fried, served with cucumber sauce. Delicious. And we had a delightful visit. As Elizabeth said, when I first met her--she was a work-study student in my office--she was ast a low point in her life. She has definitely blossomed and matured as an adult approaching--ahem--middle age. Tonight's conversation with both of them was lively, interesting, and fun, but I remember when Elizabeth and I used to go to dinner and it was hard to keep the conversation going. She remembers meals at my house, and says only once was she served something she didn't like. I have promised to make them meat loaf, which she thinks she doesn't like (but she likes kibbeh) and Weldon loves. Weldon has turned out to be a wonderful partner for her. They're a great couple, and sometimes I burst my buttons as though I were their parent.
So now the weekend. I have projects to work on, will go to Central Market tomorrow, to brunch with Betty on Sunday, and have neighbors Jay and Susan plus Charles for dinner Sunday. A pleasant weekend looms.
Oh, Facebook! I've rambled on too long tonight, but tomorrow I'll post more about Facebook--and maybe about Nadya Suleman and her exhibitionist pictures of her pregnant belly. Yuck!