That kind of a day

It's been that kind of day around here--slow and not much going on. Sophie was so bored she decided to dig into her toy basket herself. She did have some play time with Jacob, and it was fun to see how protective she is of him. When his dad wrestled with him, she got really upset and tried to jump into the fray. She also "talked" in her own expressive way.
I've been editing a manuscript all day--it's probably been ten years in the writing, but I really hope it sees the light of day this year. It's been edited, but I'm going through it again, checking the edits, finding things I want to change. I imagine I could go through it ten more times and find things to change. There comes a point where you just have to trust yourself. This is one I think I want to self-publish as an experiment, so I want to be sure it's perfect. But all editing makes a long day, and Sophie too has felt the boredom.
I need to get back to  yoga--haven't done any exercise in almost a month because I'm not sure how to go about it in an orthopedic shoe. It seems easier to just wait---two weeks and two days--than to figure out what I can and cannot do, but I know that's a cop-out. I have however been very active--from housework to walking, running errands, etc. Not a couch potato--that's my justification.
Last night I made chicken soup--good flavor, funny thick and long noodles that I had in the cupboard. Tonight when Jacob was hungry, I fished out the meat (he does NOT like meat) and gave him noodles--the soup had turned very thick in the fridge and didn't produce that much liquid when heated--guess the noodles soaked it all up. "I don't like noodles," he announced. I reminded him he'd eaten them a week or two ago, and he said, "Well, I don't like them now." His dad came along, liked the soup, and after eating a bowl took the rest home with him. I was glad to send it since I have dinner plans the next three nights and lunch plans two out of three days (ah, the whirlwind life of the retiree).
Nice news tonight--the neighborhood newsletter I've been editing since spring has won an award from the city Neighborhood office. The former editor, good friend Mary Dulle, and I will go to the awards dinner Wed. night.Surprisingly, when Mary posted the announcement on Facebook, it got lots and lots of comments. Nice feeling for both of us.
Tonight I am grieving with young friends who have been dealt the kind of blow that I don't know how you recover from. I have faith they will recover, and I remember them in my prayers, but the devastation they must feel now is beyond my comprehension. I want so badly to reach out, but there is nothing I can do. This winter, with its unpredictable and sometimes miserably cold weather, has been a bad one for sickness and death. As my friend Jim says, "There's a world of hurt out there."
The whole day makes me think that life has its ups and downs--moments of joy, times of great grief, boredom and busyness. I guess we each have to learn to balance them for ourself.

A time for resolutions--or is it?

Jacob and I celebrated New Year's Eve tonight with fondue and wine--sparkling cider or "kid wine" for him, and chardonnay for me. He asked for fondue because we had it last year and he loved it. I had forgotten that it is both expensive and work-intensive--I stirred until I thought it would never come together. And then he said he didn't really like the cheese much but he ate the bread and apples. Truth is, it wasn't as good as I remember either, and it scorched on the bottom. Nonetheless, the idea was fun.
The other night at dinner we were joking about my son-in-law's 2014 resolutions, and I suggested he resolve never to say, "I don't eat ......." He looked appalled and said he couldn't do that. So I said that I had no resolutions to make, and he retorted, "Oh. Because you're perfect?" And I said, "You got it." Truth is I do have some resolutions in mind, though they are only vaguely formulated in my mind--I may blog about them later, but all I can say now is that they have to do with personal growth.
Meantime it occurs to me that New Year's Eve is also a time to look backward and give thanks for the good things in our past year and in our lives. I started a list.
On a daily basis, I am grateful beyond words for my four children and their families, their love for me and pride in my work, their successes in their own lives and families. They make me proud every day--well, okay, there are a few lapses. I am particularly grateful for Jordan, her husband Christian, and their son Jacob who constitute my local family and whom I see almost every day. Because I keep Jacob in the afternoons and a lot of nights I am particularly close to him...and I wish I had that relationship with my other six grandchildren.
I am grateful for my writing, my involvement in the online mystery-writing community, and the shape that work gives to my daily life, though I'm glad I don't rely on it for my livelihood. I'm grateful for my oh-so-comfortable house where I am completely at home, and for those who help me run it--the wonderful woman who cleans, Greg who keeps the garden, Lewis and Jim who see to repairs major and minor. Jacob pointed out it takes a lot of people to run my house, and I said, "Yes, a village." I'm thankful too for wonderful neighbors
I am grateful for Sophie, that wild Indian of a dog who stole a big chunk of expensive tuna off my plate last night and just snitched a Kleenex (used of course). She is daily in her devotion, even lying in the middle of the bathroom when I shower. She is good company, and I love our special tummy-rub time late at night.
2013 brought problems but mostly moments of high delight--there was a marvelous trip to Hawaii with Jordan in late February--a place I never thought I'd go, and I loved it. Thanks to lifelong friends Martha and Dick for hosting us. There was a wowzer of a 75th birthday party, mostly celebrating the new deck in my backyard. For most of the year, Elizabeth lived in the guest house--she was great company, Jacob adored her, and I welcomed not only our late-night wine sessions but also the presence of another person on the property. A corner of our small community here will always miss her. This fall brought a much-anticipated visit from my high school buddy Barbara and her daughter, Amy--too short but wonderful times. We can laugh together as we did in high school.
And there was our Christmas trip to Santa Fe which also brought about a visit with a thirty-year friend I probably haven't seen in ten years.
Do I have worries? Of course--the health of my oldest son is tops on my list of worries, closely followed by what I should do about my career. And there are niggling small annoyances but I feel so blessed by the life I lead.
2014? I think I'll try to grow up--and out (spiritually and mentally but, Lord help me, not physically). God rest ye all and bring you a bright new year.

This, that and nothing

Sunday is the day I post Potluck with Judy and usually don't do Judy's Stew, but I have to say something about how amazing the service was this morning at University Christian Church. The entire service was John Rutter's Requiem with full choir and orchestra--all as background for the offering and communion, with the usual prayer and a brief homily. I'm not a good listener--movies, concerts, events which require me to sit still for long make me antsy. But I went to church alone this morning, resolved to let the music just wash over me--and it did. It was, of course, an All Saints Day service of remembrance for those we've lost, and many people went forward to light candles. Heartbreaking to see one young woman, holding the hand of a child, come back down the aisle in tears. I didn't light candles but I thought about two friends who lost their husbands this year, and then I thought I haven't been touched much by death, except for losing my parents. But as I meditated, with that glorious musical background (The Twenty-Third Psalm was part of it), I realized that over the years I've lost many people who were important and special to me. It was indeed a good day of remembrance, to hold treasured memories close.
And a beautiful fall day, though I still found it chilly. I had the sinking feeling I may be too cold all winter. Sophie has reacted to the cold weather by spending the day sleeping in her favorite chair--I've given up the battle of telling her to get down, because the minute my back is turned she's up there again. So now she can get on three pieces of furniture--the chair in my office, Jacob's bed, and the couch if Jacob invites her.
A bit of unpleasantness--turns out there was a dead possum behind the garage apartment. A neighbor called both me and Jordan, afraid that Sophie would chew on it--I suspect she's far too refined a dog. Jordan suggested I call the next-door neighbor, but I said he's more squeamish than I am. I called Greg, my friend/yard guy, and he came down and disposed of it while I was at church. Grateful for good friends and concerned neighbors.
Depressing to me to have it turn dark at 6:30. I fixed a comfort meal--scrambled eggs and bacon, a roasted slice of cabbage (see Potluck with Judy for this amazingly easy treat), and a Clementine--I bought a whole bag of them and it turns out Jacob won't eat them.
Off to write a book review and maybe turn on the fire in the fireplace. Good night to feel cozy.

Supper and suspended animation

The movers came today and packed up Elizabeth's apartment. She is out there with one bed, two straight chairs, a refrigerator and a microwave. I urged her to come in to read, work on her computer, anything but to be in such a bare, depressing space. She hasn't yet, though she spent some of the afternoon inside, and together we helped Jacob think of rhyming words for his spelling list. He is so enamored of her that he looked to her for every word, and when I ventured something he'd ask her to confirm it. I finally demanded, "Why are you looking at her? I'm the one with a Ph.D." and we all collapsed in giggles. Come now, what can you think of that rhymes with whiskers?
I'm not sure the impact of her leaving has hit him and he will be bereft. The first thing every day when he comes home from school, he rushes out to see Elizabeth. Sophie knows. She sits by Elizabeth's side and stares at her. Funny how dogs can sense these things. Sophie had a high old morning watching the movers at work and one of her favorite people, Greg the lawn guy/neighborfriend, came to say goodbye to Elizabeth.
Tonight we had dinner together and both realized it was our "last meal"--tomorrow night I have class and she has a happy hour with our neighbors, to which of course I'm invited. I said it would probably be going when I get home at 8:30 and she agreed. But tonight we had our favorite meal--salmon cakes. Elizabeth makes them with egg, almond flour (gluten free), salt and pepper--and that's it. I usually add onion, Worcestershire, and dry mustard--but these are so good I think the seasonings are superfluous. My mom taught me to make croquettes with cracker crumbs and then press crumbs into them for a coating. She also taught me to shape them like logs. I think I'll continue to use cracker crumbs but not coat the cakes--the crumbs don't stay on and they tend to burn. And I'll make patties, not logs. Much easier. A cooking lesson from Elizabeth.
We rounded out our meal with asparagus, a bit of leftover cantaloupe, and raspberries, which I ordinarily hide in the back of the fridge and don't share with anyone. Elizabeth knew it was a special occasion. The plates were so pretty we couldn't resist a picture.
I told Elizabeth she'd have to leave something behind to insure that she'd return. So far, she's left a hula hoop (forgot to ask the movers to take it) and a rickety laundry rack which she didn't think would survive the trip. I told her that wasn't exactly what I had in mind, but she's also leaving a cute little metal pink chair. If I put a plant on it. I'll keep it in front of the apartment, with a plant on it.
We live in suspended animation. I finally told her last night that I would be glad when she's gone (she'll spend Friday night with her family and fly out Saturday) simply because the anticipation will be over and her leaving will be a fait accompli. She is anxious for Saturday and her new life because, as she says, "Let's get this show on the road." It's all a funny learning experience.
Tomorrow she and neighbor Jay (the good-looking one) will move my furniture from storage back into the apartment, so it will be less bare. Dilemma: do I want to keep those double bunk beds? They proved to be most unwieldy and they take up a lot of space. As Elizabeth kept repeating, I could do all kinds of things out there if I didn't have the bunk beds. Guess I'll poll my children and see what they think.
Life moves on, and changes are good though they may seem hard at the time. As my mom always said, all things work to some good end. But, then, Mom had a lot of sayings, like "The mills of the gods grind extremely slowly but they grind extremely fine." Go figure!

Goodbye, pests!

For a week or more, Elizabeth and I have been meeting on the deck about nine for "rat watch." She spots them; I don't. Sophie barks at them. As I think I posted the other night, one fell out of the sky right next to Elizabeth, skittered dazedly around the deck, and took off. Fortunately, Sophie did not catch it. Last night Elizabeth activated (that's my right brain again--I don't do well with printed instructions) the sonic rat repeller I ordered. We think it worked! There was much less activity in the trees, and though Sophie sat on alert watch, she didn't find much to bark at.
Neighbor Susan has a theory: hawks are nesting a few blocks away, and they drove the rats out of their area to ours. Her husband keeps offering to go after them with a pellet gun, but I know what goes up must come down, and I'm fearful it will come down on Sophie. So our faith is in the rat repeller. We'll go out tonight to see if it works, and then that's the last joint rat watch for almost two weeks, as Elizabeth leaves for India tomorrow, taking a group of yoga students, including Susan.
Rat watch has a side benefit. Elizabeth and I have always been close, since she was my help-study worker in the office twenty years ago, but now we seem to bare our souls out there while watching rats (maybe it's the wine!). At any rate, I will miss her these next two weeks. And I do feel the bond between us has grown much stronger. Thanks, rats! My mom always told me all things work to some good end.
But there's another pest we worried about--mosquitoes and the ever-present threat of West Nile Virus. We used to slather ourselves with repellent--fortunately Elizabeth put me on to an organic one that doesn't smell so bad and doesn't have Deet. But some guests say, "No, I want the poison, the stuff with Deet." Jordan is obsessive about protecting Jacob, because the mosquitoes love him.
Now we have, thanks to Mary Dulle, a mosquito repellent lantern (boy, those were really complicated instructions and I thank Elizabeth and my good friend Linda for putting it together). We've discovered the last two nights that it's really effective.
So we sit in a rat-free (we think) and mosquito-free environment and listen to the tiny fountain that Katie Sherrod gave me. I mean, is that bliss or not?

One of those days

 

A highlight of my day: Jacob clowning with Sophie

Notice the toothless smile

 

I started out the day efficient and happy, feeling good. By 7:30 I was dressed, hair washed, bed made, kitchen in order, and it was a good thing because the electricians arrived at 7:45 to put outdoor plugs on the deck. But then the morning went downhill: my computer froze for an hour (thanks, Facebook)--which totally disables me for any work I intend to get done. I finally called the Help Desk at TCU and for the first time ever was told that since it was a private computer they didn't support it. Apparently I can only call about email problems. But the guy did give me one hint, and I held down the power button for a long time to get it to turn off. When it rebooted, it was fine, but it happened once again during the morning, and I am now forever leery of Facebook. Then the electrician had to cut the power to  two breakers or whatever they are, and they weren't labeled, so he didn't know what would go off and would I please turn off my computer. I did, and shortly they told me I could turn it on again. The final insult of the morning was spending thirty minutes on the phone trying to get my prescriptions transferred from one mail-in pharmacy to another, since my insurance changed (not through my choice). The people who handle that give the same speech to so many people so many times a day that they rattle it off mechanically at a rapid rate. No matter how many times I said, "I'm a little hard of hearing. Could you please slow down?" she continued to speed through her rote speech.

By the time friend Jean came to get me for lunch, I was exhausted. But we had a good lunch at King Tut--Egyptian food. I had meat sambosa dipped into cucumber sauce (which I love) and really good hummus. And we had a good visit. Cheered me immensely after my bad morning.

And I actually did get some editing down on the manuscript I'm working on for my publisher--have now started on the second time through and it's going much more smoothly because I know what I'm doing and looking for. The first time through someone else's manuscript is like a get-acquainted trip.

Jordan and Jacob came by about 4:30--her happy hours are going to do me in. But we had a good visit, and I've worked all evening. Elizabeth should be home soon, and we'll meet on the deck for rat watch--but that's another story.

It as almost but not quite a day that made me feel I'm a full-time writer.

A deck is changing my life

I bought my house, circa 1922, almost 20 years ago and have always joked I bought it for the front porch, which is wonderful and spacious, partly roofed. I grow herbs and other plants on its wide concrete railings and have served many a glass of wine and dinners out there. I've long been a proponent of front porches, arguing that you are part of the neighborhood on the porch--people walk by, wave and greet you. You can see a wild variety of dogs--tonight we saw a man walking three dogs and a cat--no, the cat was not on a leash.
But the thought of a deck in the back of the house lingered in my mind. I kept it in the back of my mind because the yard was essentially a dog yard, devoid of deliberate beautification, thanks to dogs and the city who dug it up for a sewer line and replaced old flourishing plants with small news ones which the male dogs I had at the time promptly killed by peeing on them.
But then Elizabeth moved into my guest house and began to put flowers and statues around the corner of her little house, bird feeders in the trees, and then a table and chairs in the back under the trees. The idea of a deck looked better. (Someone said the other night they heard she told me to build a deck; she was appalled and explained she doesn't "tell" me to do anything!) I talked to the contractors who keep my house together, and we sashayed around the idea until I asked, "Which one of us is not talking about the deck," and they said, "Not us!"
The results is I have a beautiful deck, 10 x 12, just the right size for my yard, with one of those toppings that will never weather, and my children bought a table and six matching chairs for my birthday. We had a grand party Saturday night, and Sunday morning I read the paper, with coffee, on the deck and talked to the son and daughter-in-law who spent the night (they sent their children with all the other cousins to my daughter's house--so peaceful). I have been having supper out there, a drink, reading, and just sitting. And I love it. It's quiet and peaceful, and close to the kitchen.
The effect on my dog Sophie is great--she can be out there with us, which she can't on the front porch because she'd go exploring the world at a fast clip. And whereas I've always had trouble getting her in late at night after her final potty outing, I've now learned to go sit on the deck, enjoy the quiet, and wait for her to come to me, which she does fairly quickly. Much less frustration for me.
My oldest son told someone Saturday night that in all the years I've lived here he's never hung out in the back yard (he and his brother lived in the guest house at first) and now he loved it.
I think my way of life will change, all because of a deck.

One of those days

1. Life is all about a new toy--and joy!

It's one of those days--that's all I can think of to write about. Nice morning at my desk, catching up with things; even nicer lunch with my former boss, dean of the libraries June Koelker--no agenda, just plain catching up and being friends. I really appreciated and enjoyed that.

Dinner with close old friends Carol and Kathie--Kathie just lost her father last week and is busy planning ceremony, taking care of details, all that. We talked and talked, but we also managed a few laughs. I am blessed to have such longtime good friends--we're there for each other when needed, and I think relaxing with friends was a good break for Kathie. Hope so.

But I end the day with no profound thoughts, nothing special to share. Feel like I should have some great wisdom, but I don't. Got to finish the mystery I'm reading, because I have promised myself I won't start another but will turn my attention to my own mystery that I need to revise.

So goes the world. Some days are just so-so.

And that 1. at the top? It appeared, and I don't know how to get rid of it. Forgive me. Too lazy to risk losing everything just to deal with that silly number.

Letting go

A small spell of anxiety yesterday led me to understand that I'd let things get under my skin. It was a bad week--foot surgery, seriously ill dog, a family upset about which no more needs to be said, a manuscript that I obsessed over getting done because it wasn't coming together as I wanted--or the editor and I weren't in agreement. On top of all that, I reviewed a book about agoraphobia. Now why was I dumb enough to do that--that's like bringing all those old ghosts right up here in front.
Today I woke up with that old feeling--will it happen again? This time I took charge, went happily about my errands, did stuff at home. I decided not to obsess about  that incomplete manuscript? I'll get to it, at a leisurely pace, when I can. I'm supposed to be reading galleys of my 2002 novel, Sundance, Butch and Me, but I put a new cozy mysery on my Kindle--it's my treat for tonight. My choice was Lorraine Bartlett's The Walled Flower. Had a "picnic" on the porch with Jacob, took a long nap, and am relaxing about things. Jacob is with me from noon today until two or three tomorrow. He had such a hilarioius good time at the party last night I thought he'd be bored with me, but he woke me from my nap by saying, "I love you, Juju" (okay, truth was he wanted company while he used the potty) and tonight he said, "This has been the best day." Why am I so lucky?
Yes, I'm still worried about my dog--he isn't eating and therefore isn't getting his pain pills or antibiotics. But I've put all the rest behind me. Sure will be glad, however, when I can do yoga again.
Anybody who struggles with anxiety--and I know there are many of us--will understand. I wish all of you peace and comfort.
Happy St. Patrick's Day to all the Irish from one with just a bit of Orange Irish in her Scottish bloodstream.

Day 2 in the Animal Kingdom

The lion is not exactly lying down with the lamb, though at this point it's hard to figure out which is what. Scooby, my 55 lb. Aussie, is afraid of Sophie, the--what? 5 lb? --pup. She barks at him in that way that dogs have of indicating they want to play, and he panics and comes to me for comfort. Last night, they both lay at my feet while I worked, but tonight was not nearly so peaceful, and I finally put Scooby in his bed, where he is much happier. I suspect Sophie is feeling a bit more secure and agressive.
Wywy the cat also hates Sophie. He hisses and strikes his paws at her--fortuntely he has no front claws. She is unfazed by this and considers him curiously.
But Sophie clearly hates her playpen. I put her in it first thing in the morning with her litter box, for which she has no use at all. She whines and screams and jumps, dumping over food and water. Once in my office, she's pretty quiet--usually. Tonight she had company to show off for, and she was into everything.
This afternoon Jordan woke her (and me) from naps, and she immediately took Sophie outside, where the pup peed and Jordan praised her. I guess I'll try that tomorrow morning. She has peed on the rug in my office twice today--fortunately not a kilim--and pooped on the old rug in her playpen, with the litter box right there. Not a great record. Now she's tapped out under my desk.
First full day. We'll all get better at this.
I'm going to bed very early tonight.

Coming home is hard, gubernatorial campaign, and a dog/child problem

I'm not a good traveler. I don't like to be away from my house, my animals, my own bed for very long. But I often find coming home is harder than leaving. After a wonderful three nights in Austin with Megan's family, Jamie's girls, and glimpses of Jamie, I got home yesterday about 3:15 and had less than two hours before Jacob arrived for the night.
The trouble with me, I confess, is that I'm almost obsessive-compulsive. If it needs to be done, I want to do it NOW. I come home, no matter how long I've been gone nor how much computer access I've had, to tons of computer work to do, bags to unpack, animals to reassure, the "to do" list I made while traveling--and I bigosh have to get it done that day. Last night, poor Jacob suffered from it--he was watching TV but I told him to come get me if he needed me, which he did about ten times. I was tired, and I'm sure he could tell I was losing my patience, because at one point he asked, "Juju, are you happy?" He, poor baby, had an ear ache so wasn't at his best either, and it was not our best evening together. I did get him down by 9:30--pretty good for a school night. And this morning? Nothing on my desk seemed that urgent.
Jacob pounded on my leg to wake me about 7:45, announcing that it was wake-up time and seemed offended that I didn't spring right out of bed. Somehow it was almost nine before I got coffee and my morning yogurt. Finally, at 9:30, he was off to school, and at ten I went to make phone calls for Bill White. I'm pleased to report that I only talked to one person who was voting for Perry and quite a few who were voting for White. And a few undecideds actually listened to me tell them why we needed White and thanked me. My main talking point? The state is $18 billion in debt, a fact that never comes out in Perry's rosy ads about how well Texas is doing. And now more and more of Perry's underhanded deals are coming out. Want to check the veracity of ad claims? Go to shootstraightTexas.com. It gives the truth about both sides and their campaign claims.

I've got a dog problem. Jacob loves Scooby and says "See? Scooby loves me!" but Jacob is also a bit afraid of Scooby. When I gave Jacob a handful of four treats and told him to take them to the office, he kept throwing them at Scooby to keep him at a distance from him. But once Scooby was in the office, Jacob wanted to stay and "play" with him. Well, Jacob makes Scooby as nervous as the other way around. Scooby reverted into the panic mode he used to show during storms, getting under my desk and pawing at me. I finally put both of them in their respective beds, but I'm thinking some desensitization training is needed. Scooby is 11 but I think I can teach an old dog new tricks with his training leash and soothing words. The problem will be to get Jacob to be calm, slow, and loving. Guess I'll work on it this weekend. Scooby is actually the most loving dog in the world, but because he was abused in his previous life, he has some real quirks and fears. A report for dog lovers will follow next week.
Writing a mystery? What's that? I swear I'm going to get back to it.

Cleaning Your Kitchen

Want to know how clean your kitchen is? For a small fee, I will rent out my dog Scooby. Sunday night, after my brisket/grease disaster (see my post for 9/26), he spent a long time licking the kitchen floor that I thought I had cleaned so carefully. Then Wednesday night--three nights after the disaster--he discovered some grease that must have dripped out of the bottom of the oven and spent a good ten minutes licking it, until I finally told him it was time to go to bed. Sort of like a tracking dog, only for food remnants. Every dog has his special talents--and that's Scooby's, aside from being the most loveable, sweet animal ever!
Errands this morning--did you ever realize that you can buy a lot of groceries and spend a lot of money in much less time than it takes to unpack what you've bought? By the time I did that, went by the office, went to the vet for animal food, and took Jordan to the safe deposit box, I was pooped.
Tonight was the first session of my fall session of the evening writing class--I have nine enrollees, though two were absent tonight. A most interesting group--a minister, a psychotherapist, an aspiring fiction writer, four repeats from last session, a woman who took a similar class from me ten or twelve years ago. We had a good time. The talk was much more open and free than at the noon class I taught Monday--I hate to say this, but serving a glass of wine makes a difference. Anyway, it was a happy, encouraging evening, and I have great hopes for this group. I served bourbon hot dogs from the freezer, brownies that were so mushy and moist they were hard to deal with, and pimiento cheese that I bought at the store but spiked with a bit of cayenne that made it really good. I can see my lunch sandwich tomorrow!