A normal day?

I managed to write 3,000 words today--2,000 in the morning and another 1,000 in the evening. I have no idea how many words other authors accumulate in a day's time, but I was pretty darn proud of this. Whereas a week or so ago I was in the broken middle, I seem to have found a plot line to carry the story forward. I am actually full of ideas for tomorrow's writing, but  I think I'll quit for tonight. Running out of gas for one thing, and I want to start a cozy that I'm going to review in hopes of winning a contest--grand prize is some sort of digital fancy kitchen equipment that I probably don't undertand but it sounds wonderful. The book is Liz Lipperman's Liver Let Die about a non-cook who ends up being food critic for a small paper.She also ends up in the middle of a murder--my kind of book.
Not that I've cooked in the past two days. Yesterday I had lunch and dinner out but managed to eat modestly. Okay, I ate chopped liver for lunch--but only a small scoop and I didn't have it in a sandwich. Last night I had a salad. Today I ate all three meals out and once again really tried to be modest--one scrambled egg and a half piece of toast for breakfast, one brat, potato salad and kraut for lunch (doesn't sound like diet food, does it?) and half a serving of meatloaf, black-eyed peas and green beans for supper (the other half of the meatloaf is in the fridge calling my name for lunch soon). If my social life doesn't slow down, I will be a) late with my manuscript, and b) fat as a pig.
Tomorrow, I speak at a monthly book luncheon at TCU for staff and then will fix a chopped steak dish for the Burtons. But Thursday, aah, I get to eat the meatloaf for lunch and Linda will come for supper before the memoir class. I think she'll get creamed tuna, but shhh! don't tell her.
Right now the weather in North Texas is beautiful. Great top down days, and I love the freedom of driving with the wind blowing my hair in my eyes so I can't see--a visor cap helps with that. By 12:30, the sun was almost too hot to have the top down but I soldiered on. By the time I got Jacob, it was too hot for the shirt I'd started the day in. He managed to create a mud puddle in the back yard--the puppy, thinking she's a pig, wallowed in it. I have laid down the law about turning on the water. Hope it works.
Life is good.

Writing my way out of the doldrums

This morning I had the doldrums, maybe a hangover from my bad day yesterday. But my horoscope said if I wanted to accomplish things and live fully or whatever I had to get out of my comfort zone. So I put on my black velvet jogging suit (instead of jeans) with a deep pink turtleneck (always my best color) and a fuzzy pink/red scarf. Then instead of mailing my bank deposit at a drop-in box, I went to the office and put the letters in their secure mailbox--plus had a short visit with everyone. Then off to Central Market where I made sure I had enough food for the coming cold snap (probably only one day, and I could survive a month on what's in my pantry and freezer!).
Part of the reason I was in the doldrums was that I feel stalled on my chili project. I'm putting words on paper, getting the basics down, but so far it simply hasn't come alive. Like fiction, non-fiction should have a spark that makes it leap off the page at the reader. So far, my chili manuscript is, at best, pedestrian. I'm working on the theory that if I just get all the information down, then I can go back, revise rewrite, capture that spark. I usually can do it, but each time I write the first draft of nonfiction I think an idiot wrote it. (Jacob would tell me that's not a nice word, and he's right). I'm plugging away, but it is plugging, and I find myself looking for any distraction. Tonight I went through all my own recipe files for unusual chili recipes--vegetarian, lamb with lentils, white chili. Frank Tolbert is rolling in his grave.
When this book is finally done it will be great. I know it in my bones but I'm surely fighting to get there.
In a big departure from chili, Betty and I went to a new sushi place tonight--very modern, very slick, and we looked at each other and said we'd prefer the old neighborhood place where we usually go. Anyway, it was an adventure--even just finding it was an adventure.
In Fort Worth, eating out is going to be iffy for the next few weeks, and we'll all have to choose our destinations carefully--places that don't get stock show business, plus during Super Bowl week--who can predict where those people will eat? Everywhere!

Another food day--and a bit of philosophy about that

Food seemed to dominate my thoughts and activity today. This morning I fixed my house guests breakfast--an experiment of course. I buttered and toasted pieces of French bread, put one in the bottom of each of three ramekins; topped it with sauteed spinach, crumbled bacon, and an egg, and then drizzled it with just a bit of cream. Lesson learned: you have to make a nest for the egg--they all slid to the side of the dishes and didn't make a pretty presentation. Baked them for 14 minutes at 400. Another lesson learned: they came out hard-cooked, when the whites should have been solidly cooked but the yolks runny to mix with the spinach and bread. I'll try that again.
Jeannie and I were supposed to go to lunch but I felt so full I didn't know if I'd be hungry by noon. Instead of going out, Jeannie came here and we each ate a bit of roulade with sauce and a bit of asparagus. I sent some roulade home to her husband, who is confined to bed with pneumonia, and I stiill have enough to give Jordan the leftovers she wants. It was, I say modestly, perhaps even better today than last night.
Tonight Betty and I went to dinenr--see? I told you it was a food day! We went to a German restaurant where she had a huge entree of beef wrapped in red cabbage and topped with a sauce or gravy and the biggest helping of cottage-fried potatoes I've ever seen. I had potato pancakes, which made up for the fact that I haven't had latkes in several years. Crisply fried and delicious--I didn't even need the applesauce and sour cream.
Jeannie and I were talking about friends and eating out, and I said I can go along for days eating modestly and healthfully but then a couple of days like the last two come along and I eat too much of the wrong things. But I'd rather do that and enjoy friendships and people and going out than sit at home and think about whether what I am eating is good for me or not. Jeannie agreed absolutely that without her small group of good friends she'd be boring and bored. So I guess we'll grow old and fat eating out together.
Needless to say I didn't get much work done today--I did ride my bike and have a good nap. I keep telling myself next week will be better.

Cooking

I said last night this blog had veered away from its origins--writing, cooking, and grandchildren (well, not the latter). Tonight it's purely cooking, and its bragging on myself. It was one of those days that I didn't know what I wanted--nothing struck me as right. So when I came home I defrosted two boneless chicken thighs and decided I'd figure what to do with them later. About six, I snapped some green beans and put them on to steam, and then looked at the chicken, remembered I had a recipe Jordan and I had liked. Got it out and it called for browning, making a sauce and reducing it, and then roasting for 45 minutes. Sorry, it was six and I wanted my supper. So I pounded the thighs flat, floured them, browned them, and took them out of the skillet. Added some garlic to brown, then some chardonnay--not quite half a cup--and cooked it down a bit, added a half cup chicken broth, a bay leaf, and some thyme, and simmer the whole thing util it thickened. Put the chicken back in to warm, rewarmed a few of the beans with butter and salt, and had the most delicious dinner. I was tempted to lick the pan that sauce was so good--okay, when I got it back in the kitchen, I really did lick it. And I have one thigh left for when I eat lunch at home Friday.
I've been eating out more than usual this week--lunch Tuesday with a colleague and friend, breakfast today with an author from Arizona, lunch with an old friend from TCU administration, lunch and dinner out tomorrow. Tis the season.
Tis also the season when I feel things piling up but don't know what to do in advance--can't pack now for a trip ten days from now. Can't eve pack tonight for my one-night visit to Frisco this weekend. Packages are all wrapped, and I'm figuring about getting them to people. Can't get serious about writing with the holidays looming. So I guess I'll read. Am in the midst of Carolyn Hart's Death of the Party and enjoying it.