Foolish Frugality

Our heavy frost of earlier in the week has been replaced by temperatures in the 70s and predicted to go to 80 by Sunday, so I spent some of the day carting plants back outside and discarding those left out that had frozen--vinca can easily be replaced. Everything else seems to have come through intact--even the dusty miller that Jacob insisted he had to have. We hid the Boston fern and plumbago in a sheltered corner of the porch and watered them thoroughly and while they don't look happy, they don't appear damaged.
Greg carried in my lush pot of basil for me, and I brought in the skinny one from the deck. It seemed senseless to carry them back out, because eventually they'd have to come in, and I know I'll start over in the spring with new plants. We've had about enough pesto around here so I decided to preserve the leaves, using a method I'd read about online. Blanch the cut basil in boiling water, then plunge into ice water. Dry, pull of the leaves, and freeze in a single layer. The whole process took the better part of an hour--talk about the watched pot that never boils! And want to bet I never use them? That's what I call foolish frugality.
My whole day was a foolish waste of time--thinking I had nothing to do today but pick up Jacob and keep him overnight, I piddled my way through the day and accomplished nothing. I did finish the book I was reading. Now I'm feeling more ambitious. I've made salmon cakes for supper and cleaned a small head of broccoli. After Jacob finishes his allowed time on the iPad, I'll enlist his help to pot some herb samples I got on my last trip to Origins and to make mini-muffins for the freezer.
Then I've got a manuscript to read one last time--a reader worries about the shift from past to present tense and what she/he sees as one big gap in logic. I can easily work around that but must read for tense. There is also the allusion to a possible affair between a female high school teacher and the student she coaches in both math and basketball. The reader said this had to be brought to the publisher's attention but the publisher is fine with it. One line in particular bothered the reader--the other boys were jealous just based on their suspicions. Well, come on, that's how seventeen- or eighteen-year-old male minds operate. A senior editor said she thought that line added veracity, so I feel vindicated on that score. After all, we read about this every day in the paper.
Still don't like that it gets dark so early.

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.

Procrastination and the good life

Today Jean and I picked up our flowers of the month--a program sponsored by the AAUW (American University Women). Jean and I exchange certificates for the year each Christmas and always have lunch before we pick up our flowers. Aren't these lovely? White roses kissed with lavender. You can't see it too well, but the vase sits on a coaster hand woven by Jean. Today we went to a classic tea room and had scoops of salad--chicken for her and tuna for me--with fruit. Fun.
This is one of those nights when I start a blog and don't know where it's going. I've had a lovely two days being lazy. Finished (for now) a major editing project, so the chore of digging into my next novel is facing me--it's been simmering in the back of my mind for a long time, but I'm a believer in that simmering process. At the same time, I'm a procrastinator, so tonight I've written a guest blog and am writing this and trying to convince myself to start on my newsletter. Once I get those first words on paper, I know the rest will come easily--it's getting started that boggles me.
But being lazy is kind of nice. This morning, by 10:30 I hadn't done a lick of work--at least at my desk. I'd watered plants, done my yoga, showered, read Facebook and the newspaper and my emails but hadn't settled down to anything serious.
Meantime I'm enjoying the feeling of not rushing, not feeling pressure. There was a blog somewhere today about the need for writers to write faster, produce more. It's true that the more books you have in print, the better each book sells. But several Sisters in Crime protested--one that quality would suffer and another that personal life would suffer. I second both arguments. I'm fairly productive--once I start a novel, I keep at it (probably what's keeping me from starting), but I don't want to sacrifice quality. And I have way too much else in my life--family and grandchildren and friends. Writing is a huge part of my life, but it's not the only thing--my children and grandchildren come first and I will always drop everything to be with one or more of them; I'll also drop things to have lunch or a glass of wine with a good friend. And sometimes, I just want to read someone else's mysteries.
It's a good life. Now on to that newsletter....

It's easy to be lost in April

At least, it’s easy to be lost this April. We never know if it’s winter, spring or summer, at least in Texas. And look at all that snow in Colorado in late April! Yesterday the temperature was balmy, the day delightful and sunny. Today it is overcast and cold, in the upper 40s, to go to the upper 30s tonight, with a chill factor well below that (I do wish they’d stop telling us the chill factor!). By the weekend, it will be 80 again. My plants are confused…and so am I. I have a hydrangea that I want to take outside for brief spells to “harden” it, but there’s no sense doing that in weather this cold. And my sweet potato plants are drooping—in fact, one just gave up the ghost. Glad I didn’t buy those cherry tomatoes yet. My brother said tonight in doleful tones, “Summer is over.” I told him we haven’t had it yet, and he said, “Oh, I thought  it was awfully short.”

And I’m sort of at loose ends anyway. Finished first edits on a manuscript last night. Tomorrow it goes to my mentor (need to think of a better descriptive term)—if he says, “This is trash,” in the trash it goes. If he says it has possibilities, back to editing. I know one thing it needs is a better sense of place, so yesterday I drew a map of the fictional town, one of the university (it’s what Fred calls an academic novel meaning it’s not academic in itself but it’s set on a campus), one of the protagonist’s house, and one of her boyfriend’s house. But I’m on hold until he reads it. Meantime I have a novel to review but it’s hard to pull yourself quickly from one fictional world to another, so I’m stalling.

And this is a doctor week for me. Today I went to the ophthalmologist, an appointment I always dread for several reasons. It went much more smoothly than I anticipated, and I do not need the laser treatment he anticipated I would. Good news. Hope the next two go as smoothly.

Life is always uncertain, even the small things. Tonight we waited to hear if they would cancel Jacob’s baseball game because of weather. 5:30 came, so we all trooped to the Grill for supper, and still no word. The staff asked, “Is everybody going to the game?” “Not me,” I replied. “It’s cold  out.” So after supper I saw them off to the game and retreated to my warm house. It’s a night to go to bed early. Jordan just texted on her way home and said, "So cold!"

Maybe tomorrow will be spring again.

A big day an a lot of ways

A part of me will be relieved when today is over. Don't get me wrong--I've got the TV on, and I'm fascinated by the pomp and circumstance. Yes, the networks try to fill time for all those long stretches whle the President is out of sight--in church, at the congressional coffee, etc. Still, it's history, and I find it fascinating. But this morning on the TODAY show I heard a fleeting mention of the President's safety. Matt Lauer, talking about security, said something to the effect that if anything is going to happen, you'd think it would happen today. Add that to a friend's comment last night that a friend of hers thinks someone will shoot the President--though not necessarily today. It's a dark thought I've heard off and on ever since Barack Obama was elected--and I hope to God that it's wrong. So I'll be relieved when the day is over--maybe he will be too. Jordan tells me tonight that she is pretty sure both the Obamas had bullet-proof vests on because they looked bulky when they walked down Pennsylvania Aveneue--but wasn't it gand to see them walking, holding hands!
The ceremony itself was spectacle and wonder, from the President's brief speech to James Taylor, Kelly Clarkson and James Taylor. Mark Shields of PBS described the President tonight as a "happy warrior"--it fits.
Jacob comes home from his grandparents' today, though I won't see him until tomorrow. I've missed him, though most people say, "What a nice break for you." Only the grandmother of one of his close buddies understood when I said, "I'm having withdrawal symptoms." But I have gotten a lot done during these four-and-a-half days. I've steadily added a thousand words a day to my work in progress. I started that on January 2 with a blank first page, and now I have 25,500 words--so I'm a bit ahead of the game. I have a cushion for the days I don't accomplish it. I've been writing those passages in the evening, devoting the daytime hours to chores and, principally, editing a manuscript for my publisher.
This morning in a moment of personal triumph I sent the edited work back to the author. The editing part is fun for me--I like catching the odd phrase, small inconsistency, shaping a manuscript to be what the best it can. On the other hand, formatting and using track changes are enough to drive me screaming from the computer. I saved the work, properly formatted, last night; this morning it had reformatted itself. And track changes puts blue lines, indicative of a change needed, where there is absolutely no change. I finally sent it off with instructions to ignore those problems and simply accept or decline suggested changes and deal with comments.
Yesterday I was particularly efficient--which always gets me into trouble. Kathie was coming for dinner, and I looked forward to giving her the prayer shawl from the ladies of my church and to sharing memories of Rick and tears with her. So I got lots of kitchen things done in the morning  and about ten went happily to my computer, only to realize I'd left the roasting vegetables in the really hot oven way too long. Charred brussel sprouts, beets, and carrots anyone? Now my garbage smells of brussel sprouts, and I have some sympathy for Christian who can't abide the smell of brussel sprouts, broccoli or cabbage cooking. But the evening was good and today it's a warm memory that I treasure.
All in all, a grand day, one to be proud to be an American and proud of our President. But I think I'll be glad to get back to routine days.

Yoga in two parts

Yesterdy morning I did about half my yoga routine and had to stop, for reasons totally unrelated to yoga. I finally finished the routine about six last night, and I'm wondering if a divided routine does you as much good as a complete one. But that's sort of how my week has gone.
Monday is usually my stay-at-home-and-get-lots-done day, but this Monday I was out the door early to transfer Scooby to his own vet--not only did it take a chunk of time, it set a less-than-efficient tone for my day. Scooby is still dozing and snoozing--eating, drinking, peeing and pooping but he has to be carried to the appropriate place for the last two, although he does stand to do them. No way I can carry a 55 lb. dog up and down even the two stairs to the backyard. I went to see him last night, and he struggled to get up for me, so maybe visiting is not a good idea, though I did stay and love on him. They say sometimes it takes a week for the disorientation to go away--much as I love Scooby, dollar signs are swimming in my brain.
Then Tuesday and Wednesday were routine doctor appointments for me (if you can ever call having your eyes dilated routine!). Both were just checkups, but they broke the rhythm of my days.
And then there were pleasant dinners with friends, occasions I wouldn't miss though once again they took me from my computer. I'm not sure I can justify calling myself a writer.
Finally yesterday I got to stay home all afternoon and evening at my desk--editing someone else's manuscript. Years ago when I started editing, I marked up hard copy, sent it to the author, whose responsibility it was to create a new manuscript incorporating my suggestions and return it. I had to compare the two versions, make sure no new errors crept in next to the corrections--that happened a lot. Well, today we have "Track Changes" which makes it so much easier--and so much harder. I am forever getting tangled up in that program--deleting things I don't mean to, creating little blue "fix this" lines that are unfixable as far as I can tell. This time, somehow I lost all the formatting on the manuscript. Fortunately the managing editor of Turquoise Morning Pres is a lot smarter than I am and could tell me what to do. Now, I hope, I'm on the home stretch--and a bonus: I've learned to make marginal comments.
I'm itching to finish this manuscript--but first there's the post office, the bank, the cleaners, early voting, and lunch with a friend. Sigh. But I've done my yoga.
I'm a writer--honest, I am!

End of the holiday

I spent Christmas Day with my family--eight adults and seven grandchildren. Last night I spent New Year's dinner with my Fort Worth family: Jordan, Christian and Jacob. Sue, who calls me her Fort Worth mom, came by for appetizers and a glass of wine. When Jay and Susan, my neighbors, arrived, they brought wine stoppers--the kind I had asked Jordan to look for. When I said that, Jay said, "We're better kids than she is!" And it dawned on me that this was my Fort Worth family--missing Elizabeth and Weldon, but I'm sure they'll be here soon. We had hoppin john that had quite a kick to it--and I didn't add the jalapeno or the bell pepper. Must have been the Cajun seasoning. The Burtons left soon after dinner, but Jay and Susan lingered, playing with Sophie. We agreed she's a great dog--or will be when she's eighteen months. Today, Susan brought a new Kobo brush over and showed me how to use it--Sophie looked lovely, but was soon rolling in the leaves again. Tonight I looked out and she was lying in the yard like a limp rag doll. I called and she didn't move. So, in stocking feet, I rushed out, got almost to her, and she jumped up and began to run like the Energizer Bunny.
The new year is off to a good start. When I retired I thought I would get to write all day every day, but I soon found life gets in the way. This week, it's a haircut, two lunch dates, a date with a dog trainer, and an eye doctor appt. that I dread--I always feel like I'm failing a test when I can't read some lines on the screen. But today was the gift of an extra holiday. My calendar was absolutely empty, and Jacob did not have school--in fact, he's with his folks, and I haven't even heard from them all day. So I did spend much of the day at my computer and got lots done. Almost through formatting the second Kelly O'Connell novel. But I also had a lovely, lazy nap and did my yoga, took Christmas off the dining table, and mopped the kitchen floor. Now I'm back at my desk.
Tomorrow, the world begins again after a lovely holiday. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did. I"ll be on the porch at 7:55 to hug Jacob and out the driveway at 8:30.

Vacation is here

I'm on vacation--well, sort of. I finished editing, rewriting the third manuscript in the Kelly O'Connell series tonight. I'd procrastinated about this, thinking I couldn't bear to read it one more time. But when I finally made myself do it, I enjoyed the process, enjoyed plugging the holes where something didn't work, fleshing out a scene that I'd cut too short, correcting the inevitable typos--I'm sure there are more. That's always beta reader Fred's criticism to me: stop rushing through the story. Fred is reading it--I gave it to him last week--and I will of course wait for his comments and go through it one more time. I think those times of procrastination or staying away from it are good--they give new perspective. When I went back to this one it seemed better to me; in fact, I was quite pleased with it. Oops, pride goeth before a fall. Tentative title is Wild Things in Kelly's Neighborhood. I would surely appreciate comments on that title. But having done what I've done in the last few days, I feel like I'm on Christmas vacation. I plan to read a lot of mysteries. And maybe cook a lot.
Today started out cold and rainy. The rain stopped, but the cold has intensified, and we're due a hard freeze tonight. My cactus plants are inside, and everything outside will either die to be discarded and replaced next year or survive--some of my herbs survive bitter weather and strong heat. Amazing  plants. It was a split pea soup kind of day, but when Jeannie and I got to Carshon's we decided to share a reuben sandwich. It was also a hot cocoa day, and I fixed that for Jacob after school--he was delighted. We did his homework and he fell asleep in front of the TV. Dry weather tomorrow, but very cold.

A new book plus a food lesson for Jacob and a small triumph

My mystery, Skeleton in a Dead Space, officially launched today, though it's been on Amazon and Smashwords since Saturday. Still this was THE day--and it was anticlimactic. Yes, I'm excited, but I've been excited for a long time. And yes, I got notes of congratulations and all that. Not sure what I expected. Maybe I'll feel different about it when I hold a print copy in my hands. My goal for so long has been to write and publish a mystery, and it's been a long road, maybe five or six years, so I guess it's hard to feel that it's really happened.
Meantime, I'm editing a young-adult manuscript by another author and fighting with Word--if I center the chapter title, it centers the last two or three lines of the preceding chapter; if I go back and justify them, it justifies the chapter title. Plus the track changes function is unforgiving--if I change something and  then change my mind, there's no going back. You end up with red all over the manuscript and it looks as though, as a prof once said to me, somone had bled on it. The one thing I remember from that class is "Never use red ink on a student's paper."
Jacob had a food lesson. While he ate his after-school snack of yogurt, I trimmed the ends off a whole pack of haricorts vert that I got at a bargain. I gave him a raw one to nibble, and he loved it, waxing eloquent over and over about how good they were, the best green beans he ever ate. He practiced saying haricorts vert but decided he would just say haricorts. Then when his mom came, he forgot it, had to be prompted, and ended with "But they're really carrots!" He tells me though that he's looking forward to eating them tomorrow night.  We'll see. I used this little teaching moment to talk about green is good, since his dad generally thinks if it's green and/or a cooked vegetable, he doesn't want to eat it. Salad and green beans are exceptions. Jacob and I talked about how good carrots and broccoli are and I promised to make him carrots Friday night.
Sophie has destroyed the jacket on yet another book, which means a lot of yelling from me--and then guilt. But we make up afterwards. She's clever--she piles all her toys right in front of her target spot on the bookcase bottom shelf, so I can't be sure if she's chewing a toy or a book. She's had three accidents today, all in my office, which I consider too many for as long as I've been working at this. If I happen to catch her at the right moment, she potties outside; if not, the corner of my office is convenient. But tonight a small triumph: she and I spoke the same language. I recognized her signal, rushed her outside, and she pooped. That may make up for the lethargy I felt earlier in the day. Now she's romping with her toys. Me? Chew books? Never!

On Learning to Write

This isn't BSP (blatant self promotion)--it's relative to the point I want to make, which is I apprently don't know how to write yet. I have been a published author for over 30 years, with 60 or more books to my credit if you count all those children's nonfiction books I did on assigment. But I've published fiction and nonfiction for adults and young readers, even a cookbook.
Now I'm writing mysteries (I have mentioned the forthcoming Skeleton in a Dead Space, havene't I? yes, I think so:-) I am doing the final edits on my second mystery manuscript, and the publisher's instructions are to search for those pesky adverbs by looking for words ending in "ly." I did and it was a humbling experience. I found I overuse the word "really" to an unbelievable extent, and "only" isn't far behind. Reconstructing sentences without those words was a challenge but fun. Then I moved on to the next search--for the word "had" to find passive voice. I could not believe the number of times "had been" appeared in the manuscript. I still have "was" and "ing" words to go. So far it's a humbling experience, which leaves me wondering if all my previous books are filled with those grammatical errors. I'm afraid to look.
I do have to say that looking searcing for these things is a long and boring process, so much so that sometimes my mind goes blank. But I'm persevering. When I finish, I still have to read the manuscript yet one more time to make sure I haven't introduced new errors in the process of correcting old ones. By the time I'm through, I'll be able to recite the darn thing from memory.
But the whole exercise is one of the best I've ever heard of for checking your manuscript. Thanks to Kim at Turquoise Morning Press for coming up with it.
The manuscript hasn't actually been accepted yet, but I have a proposal in and am quite hopeful. Keep your fingers crossed for me. The title of this one is for now No Neighborhood for Old Women. Yes, that's a spoof on Cormac McCarthy. When I began writing the manuscript, he had just turned down my good friend Marcia Daudistel on her request for an excerpt of his writing to include in an Literary El Paso, an anthology of the work of El Paso authors. I came up with the title off the top of my head, and she hooted with delight. More than that about the book, it's too soon to say. If it's accepted, I may have to change the title.
A food note: I know, I have a food blog but I can't resist sharing my menu tonight: a ground lamb patty with feta and chopped mint in it from Central Market (actually I ate about a third of the huge pattie) and fresh corn, cut off the cob after I boiled it, and mixed with salt and a bit of chiffonade of basil--no butter. So good!

Palm Sunday--and a bit of calm

I went to church today for the first day of Holy Week--and Jacob went with me. He didn't mean to. He wanted to go to day care, but when we got there--late, of course--the room was empty. The four-year-olds had gone to walk into the sanctuary with their palm fronds, which I think Jacob would have been too shy to do anyway. So he went to church with me. He was intrigued when the choir sang and when a children's choir--some his age, I swear--sang. He lasted through the opening hymn, weekly remembrances, welcome and response, pastoral prayer and Lord's prayer--though during the prayers he began to mouth to me that it was time to go. Later I told him when people bowed their heads in prayer, he must be extra quiet. But after the Lord's prayer, we went to the four-year-old class and found them in their classroom, so I slipped back into the service. It was comforting to me to hear the message that Jesus had come to bring us all God's love and forgiveness. I sort of needed that in this week of bad news. On the way home, Jacob told me he really liked the singing, and later when I began to sing something to him he put his hands over his ears. I told him I thought he liked my singing (which is always off-key) and he said he did in church but not at home.
We had an early but pleasant supper on the porch. I made chicken bundles in crescent rolls--you mix chopped, cooked chicken with cream cheese and green onion--and I added salt, pepper, and Worcestershire--and make four bundles out of one package of rolls. Then top with crushed seasoned croutons. Delicious and easy. Jacob even asked if I would make it again. To make sure Christian had enough, I gave him all the leftovers from last night in addition to the chicken bundle and the salad that Jordan made.
Tonight I'm deep into edits of Skeleton in a Dead Space. Hope to get it back to the editor by the end of the week, though with a large Easter dinner looming that's a bit problematical. But I'm enjoying doing it. Easter already? It's hard to believe.
For those of you who follow Holy Week, may you feel the joy and anticipation of this greatest of Christian holidays!

Snowbound

After blogging last night about needing sociability for happiness, I woke up this morning looking forward to a staff meeting, lunch with the press people, and a reception at the National Cowgirl Museum to view Georgia O'Keefe paintings. But when I looked out, everything was white. There was about two inches of snow on the ground, but kids seemed to be arriving at the school across the street. I debated--did I really want to get out in this? Looked at the computer, and TCU was closed. Usually it's the ISD that closes, while TCU stays open. Then the Cowgirl called to say the reception had been rescheduled for next week. I resigned myself to a day at home--no socializing. I fiddled and piddled for much of the morning, reading emails, unloading the dishwasher, showering, essentially making busy work. About eleven I finally settled down to work and have worked fairly steadily since, going through the manuscript I'm editing for a third and, I hope, final time. To my horror I discovered that somehow the edits I made to one chapter hadn't been saved. It was fairly easy to recreate since I knew what I'd done, but still. My computer keeps telling me the file is "read only" when it is clearly not, so I save it under a new name. Somehow, I guess, in doing all that I lost something.

Back to the snow--it came down all day, and it's still snowing tonight. The picture above is my porch, scene of many happy summertime parties and dinners--looks pretty bleak. Above that is one of the photinia in my back yard, bent down to the ground by the weight of the heavy, wet snow I'm afraid they're broken, but then they needed trimming anway. The snow appears to have stopped now (8:30 p.m.) but Fort Worth/Dallas hasn't had this much snow in one day since January 1964, six months before I moved here, and we have set a record for the most snow in any winter, ever since records have been kept (something like 10.5 inches). It was beautiful today, but toward dusk I began to get a little depressed that it was still coming down.
I got out about three to move my garbage carts to their spot next to the house. The crossing guard had brought them up for me yesterday (now, that's a neighborhly gesture, and I thanked him heartily). He left them right by the gate, and I intended to move them before I got out this morning. If the ice begins to melt tomorrow, I hope to go out the back, work my way along the fence to the garage, and get to the grocery store, but I couldn't doopen the gate with the carts there. And I may not get out--it's supposed to be really bad because it will go into the upper 20s tonight and all that slush will freeze. Another day at home, but tomorrow someone is coming by at one to talk about a book and Jacob is coming to spend the night. Surely by Saturday I can get to the store!
Meeantime, my neighbor Sue, a hearty Canadian by birth and upbringing, said the snow made her feel at home, and she got out and shoveled both our walks. I urged her not to do it, pointing out that it was still coming down, but she said it would take too long to melt tomorrow if she didn't do it this afternoon. Good point. As far as I can remember, this is the first time ever since I've lived in Texas that I thought I ought to shovel my walks. Of course, I have no shovel (and am amazed Sue had one) and lifting two shovels of snow would do my back in.
Meantime I've gotten very ambitious about that manuscript, hope to finish it this weekend. My mom always told me the Lord works in mysterious ways, so maybe the snow was designed to keep me at my desk.
If anyone in the Northeast is reading that, you may justly call us snow wimps. When I lived in Chicago and Missouri, I was as at home on this stuff as Sue is today. But I was a whole lot younger. These days I don't mind driving on it--it's walking that worries me.

Of chefs and restaurants

I always used to laugh that Cafe Aspen, a bistro-type restaurant, was our family restaurant. Colin and Jordan each worked there briefly but Jamie worked there most of his way through college. The owner, David Rotman, became a friend who would do lovely things like take one look at me and say, "Sorry, we're full." I was always glad to go there because I got a nice welcome and the food was good. Betty and I used to go for appetizers and wine in the evenings some.
David took a management position at a local country club and entered into an arrangement with a chef and his wife to run the restaurant. I went there a few times, found the food innovative and good, if expensive, and the chef's wife really friendly. One night she stopped to talk several times, explained terms we didn't know. But this week the chef and his wife walked away from it, leaving David with an empty restaurant that he'd run for twenty years. I called him to say I was sorry, and he sounded down. But interestingly he talked about a chef-driven kitchen. I'd never thought about the difference. David is a manager, not a cook, though I think he did a cooking demonstration for one of our church groups several years ago. But he ran a business and ran it well, leaving the cooking to his staff, though he was knowledgeable about food. With a chef, cooking is an art, the menu changes--they kept none of the recipes longtime customers were used to (I loved the spinach-stuffed baked potato and included the recipe in Cooking My Way Through Life with Kids and Books, after I had to call David to decipher his handwriting). The new recipes were good, no doubt about it, and the emphasis on fresh, local foods was welcome, but the prices went up--and I never did see many people in there. I think the big thing that was missing was David's personality--he table-hopped, greeting customers and making each feel like his favorite. He's hoping, and I am too, that someone will come along and want to revitalize what was a going business.
I always wanted to own a restaurant but got over the bug by running the cash register at The Star Cafe, owned by Betty and her husband, on Saturday nights for several years. Now, with David's example, I'm glad I never got the chance. I'd have lost the family fortune, such as it is.

I've apprently gotten over my lazy fit, at least temporarily. Yesterday I wrote another TIP sheet that includes the synopsis of an unwritten novel that has only the barest shape in my mind. Writing the synopsis made it clearer and brought some new ideas to the surface. Then I wrote about a 1,000 words on the work-in-progress, finally got through the scene I had in mind and a new one popped along. So it was a profitable day. Betty and I went to dinner and I celebrated with lobster roll--really good. Today has been a dreary dull day, the kind that makes you feel cold even though it wasn't actually that bad in temperature. I stayed in all day and got a really good start on an editing project for another press. The book is interesting, and I moved right along, enjoying the text. Braved the weather to see a hospitalized friend, came home for supper,and will get back to my editing. The novel I was reading is on the back burner for now.
A plea: did I loan The School of Essential Ingredients to anyone reading this blog? If so and if you'd just tell mewhere it is, I'd be happy. I read  it on Kindle, liked it so much I bought a copy, now can't find it.

Civility, editing,and where does time go?

Former Ambassador to Sweden and longtime Waco state representive Lyndon Olson spoke to a high-power audience of politicians recently, according to Texas columnist Dave McNeely, and to my mind the most telling thing he said was, "We live life in an era of rudeness." Olson recalled kindergarten report cards where you were graded on comportment as well as math and science and reading. There were places to check for "shows kindness toward others, respects rights of other, shows self-control" and, the most important of all, "Play well with others." We have today, according to Olson, forgotten those lessons. We live in an era that rewards incivility, crudeness and cynicism, and we have lost civil non-hostile discourse. I wish I could have a word-for-word transcript of the speech, for it really hits home. And it's a bipartisan problem, with both sides being guilty, though (okay I'm a confessed liberal) I think when Rush Limbaugh says he judges America's success by Obama's failure, he carries it to extreme. I enjoy rational, calm political discussion with those who disagree with me--but it doesn't happen very often. Sometimes the vehement disagrements are good-natured, but sometimes they're really hostile. And when I read in the media about accusations exchanged at the highest level of our government, I am appalled. I agree with Ambassador Olson: what happened to civility? To me, it suggests more anger in this country than is comfortable--but anger at what? Nobody seems to know; people are just angry. Olson blames the media, but I'm not sure that's the whole answer. Often when I read about today's politics I think of my father--a dedicated liberal but a man of fine British manners--who would be appalled at politics today. I'm glad he can't see it.
I've been re-reading my mystery,Skeleton in a Dead Space, which was rejected but for which I got a helpful critique. To me, the manuscript holds up well, and I found a few typos, a few minor places to change some things, and one major place to change a character's motivation. Tonight I made all those changes, and I'm ready to start querying again. But I'm also ready to update my web page, which hasn't been done in ages.
I wonder where time goes when you're retired. I ran into my former boss today at lunch, and he agreed that he had so much to do every day he didn't know where to begin. Jordan suggested last night, more in terms of budget than time, that I look at all my lunches and dinners out with friends, but isn't that what retirement is about? I do have a lot to do every day, and on a free day, what I call a floating day, when I don't have to hurry to be someplace in the morning, it's ten o'clock before I even think about washing my hair putting on make-up and getting dressed. Tomorrow I am going to the TCU retirees luncheon with Jean, so I'll have to move sharp to get my free writing and yoga done, plus read the paper, shower and get ready for the day. Retirement sure is tough.

Lazy rainy day and hectic evening

This is Jacob at the quietest moment of his whole evening here. Yes, he's sitting on an unmade bed, but that's another story--and it isn't the bed he is now, I hope, asleep in. He arrived in a fever of energy and kept it up all evening. If I tried to "read my papers" as he calls it, he demanded, "Juju! Juju! Come here." We played with his "transformers" (his name for small metal cars) endlessly, and we read books. The only time he watched TV was when I wanted him to eat dinner--his dinner as far as I can tell consisted of one bite of potato, lots of ketchup and three cups of milk. When he pitched a hissy fit during which I couldn't understand what he said, I pitched a hissy fit back so he'd see what it was like (I couldn't tell that he was impressed), then explained he'd have to tell me calmly what he wanted. Well, he didn't want ground beef--he wanted chicken nuggets. I told him beef was on the menu tonight and maybe I'd fix chicken nuggets (yuck!) the next time he comes to visit. For all his energy, he is an angel about bedtime. We set the timer for 10 more minutes of play, and then he went easily to read a book, go to the potty, get his night-time diaper, and then we cuddled for a bit. He always asks, "Will you cuddle me?" I remember that my mom used to cuddle with me until I was five and the night she announced I was too old, I cried for hours. The neighbors heard me. In retrospect, I think she could have eased me into it.

The papers I wanted to read tonight were a bonanza of cooking magazines that arrived in today's mail--both Southern Living and Bon Appetit. I sort of wish they both hadn't arrived on the same day, so I could draw out the pleasure. Jacob wanted to read Southern Living because it had a pumpkin on the cover. I was afraid he'd tear out pages, but he didn't. Still I haven't been through either one thoroughly yet, though I did pull a couple of good recipes. That's me--always pulling recipes, never sure I'll cook them.

Otherwise, it was a lazy rainy day. I did all the chores that I wonder how I did when I worked--Central Market, laundry, dishwasher, changed linens on the guest bed in preparation for company next weekend (explains the unmade bed Jacob is sitting on above), set the table for dinner tomorrow night, and so on. Then after lunch I did a few desk chores and got immersed in the manuscript I'm editing. Since I've been wondering lately about my creative abilities and ability to immerse myself in a project, this was fairly reassuring. In fact, though I thought I'd treat myself to the mystery I'm reading tonight, I think instead I'll keep editing. I really like it when I can smooth out someone's sentence, change passive to active voice, etc. Nothing major. Maybe my own novel will come next!

End of a happy weekend and back to work

The house is quiet, and the girls have all taken their children home. Megan had the longest drive--to Austin--but she reported in when she was about 20 minutes from home and said it wasn't nearly as bad as coming up Friday, which took her an unbelievable five hours. Jordan, Christian, and Jacob came by just before supper to pick up leftover food--taco meat, taco shells, refried beans--all those things I don't want. We went to Joe T.'s for lunch this morning. Christian had hoped to pick up a shift but he didn't, so he got to have lunch with us. I had "the dinner"--cheese enchiladas, small tacos, cheese nachos, guacamole, rice, and beans--but I didn't eat even half of it, and I was full. Sent the tacos, all of the rice, and some of the beans home with Christian. Still by the time supper came along I already had eaten 17 of my 19 daily points, so even though I ate modestly tonight I went 7 points over my daily allottment. I have changed my weigh day from Monday to Thursday--how dumb was that to weigh on Monday, just after the weekend.
We had a good happy morning. Everyone ate Jacob's "awful waffles" and the boys played with those inevitable guns--noisy and loud. Maddie sat at the computer for a long time with Jacob in her lap showing him something that obviously interested him, and Edie made his bed so it would be all ready for him next time he comes to sleep over. I cannot say enough about how good those girls are with their cousins. This morning I heard a little activity, got up to look, and saw Edie had Jacob in the bathroom, taking off his overnight pull-up and sitting him on the potty. Shoot! I can't get him to do that when I first get up. So after that quick look, I went back to bed.
Last year I redid the guest house at some great (to me) expense, and it tickles me that no one stays in it. Of course last night, I wanted all the kids in the house--Mel said the girls could go out there and watch a movie but I really wasn't comfortable with that. They watched the movie on their mom's computer at my desk, after Maddie sweetly said they didn't want to disturb me. They didn't--I loved having them across the desk from me. They ended up sleeping in the guest room where Jacob was on his mattress on the floor, and Mel climbed into the bed later, praying she said that Jacob wouldn't wake up at five; Megan moved the air mattress (with Sawyer) into the living room, so everybody slept cramped when the guest house stayed empty.
After everyone left, I finished straightening the house--they do a good job of cleaning up--and sat at my desk. To my surprise, I jumped into an editing project on my desk and have done 50 pages. It's a book of anecdotes about the oil patch days, and I'm enjoying working on it. A free lance assignment from Texas Tech University Press, which I much appreciate. So I'm feeling good tonight about making progress on the projects on my desk.Hmmm. Tomorrow staff meeting at 8:30. Back into busy retirement.
It has rained all weekend, and we are blessing the moisture. 3.5" yesterday and who knows how much today, though now it has slowed down but everything is very wet! Central Texas, where the drought has been awful, apparently got a lot of rain too and I read that Midlothian, south and east of Fort Worth, got over 8 inches yesterday! Feast or famine.

Ah, Sundays

It's been a long, quiet, but not lonely day. Sometimes on days like this I have to gear myself up to do the little things that need doing. But I planted the cyclamen I bought for the window boxes, pulled up the sweet potato vines that obviously do not like these chilly nights, watered plants, and did a lot of little chores like that. My yoga session was much much better than yesterday, and I experimented with a new routine that Elizabeth tried to teach me. By myself, with no one watching, I do better at new poses.
But it was also a day of mess-ups. I baked peanut-butter cookies this morning, following my mom's recipe. I really did freeze all but the two I'd smushed getting the pans out of the oven. Jordan is on South Beach and so has made me very aware of sugar content--do you realize how much sugar is in old-fashioned peanut butter cookies? One cup brown, and 3/4 cup white. Good golly. And somehow I measured out too much white, and while trying to put it back in the carton--it now comes in something that looks like a milk carton--I spilled it all over the counter and the floor. Sugar is not the easiest thing to clean up.
Then I tried to replace a ceiling flood light in the kitchen. You have to use one of those extenders that wrap around the bulb. I tried and tried last night, decided I was getting frustrated and would try again this morning. First try: I somehow broke the bulb, shoved the screw-in part of it right down into the bulb. So then of course I had to vacuum so the animals wouldn't get glass in their paws. Wywy, the cat, has been acting weirdly the last couple of days--she (he, it) who wouldn't touch dry food, now won't touch canned food but does eat the dry. Still doesn't seem as ravenous as he used to. Maybe the dry has more bulk.
And then, trying to clean green beans, for my stir-fry supper, I spilled salt all over. I clean them by rustling them around in salt water and then rinsing--another of my mom's tricks. Fortunately I rinsed them well enough that they weren't salty--I stir-fried scallops, grape tomatoes, green beans, two bites of broccoli left from last night, and mushrooms. Last week I served poached scallops when I meant them to be sauteed. I learned a lesson--do the scallops first, and dust them with a bit of flour. Remove from pan, saute the vegetables, and return the scallops until all is heated.
But my biggest mess-up was a computer one. I am reading through the edited manuscript for my cookbook (due out in Feburary--everyone hold your breath!) It's one of those deals where you have to position the cursor just right and then click either accept or reject. With recipes and quantities, there's a lot of that, because the editor standardized my haphazard approach to cooking.By late last night I had gotten through the preface, one and a half chapters. Toward the end of the evening I hit something which highlighted eveything in yellow--very annoying and I didn't know how to undo it. Went to bed and was almost asleep when I realized that I might not have saved it. Ever since the installation of U-Verse, my computer has been going to sleep if I leave it for long at all. So I stumbled up and saved eveything. This morning it had the strangest formatting I've ever seen, and I had no idea how to fix it. Fortunately I had the email with the original edited mss. so I had to start all over. I am now well into the third chapter, and I'm quitting for the evening, before I get so tired I goof it up again. It's very repetitious, mechanical work--and yet addictive. You think, "I'll just do one more recipe" and you keep going.
The book--called Cooking My Way Through Life with Kids and Books--is a memoir cookbook and has a long, funny story behind it. But I'm saving that story for when I am, I hope, asked to talk about the book.
I've re-charged my Kindle and found a mystery on it that I'm really enjoying, so that's my project for the rest of the evening.

Books, books, books

Tonight was the launch autograph party for Literary Dallas, edited by my good friend Fran Vick.Fran hunted all over Dallas for a suitable venue and finally decided to have it in the Garden Room/Pool Area of the condo building where she lives. She cooked, her kids cooked, her son served as bartender, and her daughter as greeter. As with most events, the Vicks made it a family affair. Many of the contributors were there, also signing books, though it got to be chaos--we couldn't keep them in their seats, and a few books disappeared mysterously. I sold one old friend a book, he set it down to talk to somebody, and it was gone--I always thought literary people were so honest. And you could tell by the look of the people that this was a literary crowd. I saw old and good friends, met people whose names I know but have never met before, got hugs from the Vick adult children. It was hectic but fun--and good food and wine. Melinda and I pretty much spent the evening at the sales table but that way we got to see everyone.
And today I got edited copy of my memoir/cookbook, so I have a great project for the weekend--going through and either accepting or denying the editor's changes. I'm easy. I pretty mucy accept. Like my book of short stories, I'm really excited about this one. The editor, who also happens to be a friend, called the other day and said he thought it was a really good little book. He also said nice things about TCU Press, such as we are the one doing the best with Texas material! Music to my ears.
This has been the week that was--and I've been a vanishing person in the office. Monday--out of the office all day for the AT&T installation, Tuesday gone a chunk of the morning for the ophthamologist, in the office briefly, then a late lunch meeeting and dinner out, Wednesday--a blissfully calm day though an early lunch date, today in the office early in the morning, but home early to sneak in a nap before the trek to Dallas and the party. And tomorrow--late because of an early haircut appt. and leaving early for the church bazaar, lunch with friends, and then dinner with an out-of-town friend. I love my flexible schedule, but this has been too much. And I' a tad tired. But energized by the cookbook. Glad my life is not boring.