An Austin weekend

This is how the adult Alter/Hudgeons/Burton children spent Saturday afternoon, glumly watching the deafeat of UT at the hands of OU. And below is how the grandchildren spent the afternoon--caged. It's not as bad as it looks. The trampoline has a net around it for safety, and most of the kids spent all weekend bouncing. We had seven children, one pool, one trampoline, and only one accident: Edie twisted her ankle just before we left for lunch on Sunday and had to be carried, though by the time we finished eating she was putting some tentative weight on it and not nearly as tearful as she'd been when it happened. A much more minor problem: two footballs are now in the yard of the neighbors behind the back fence--Maddie has a powerful arm.

The final picture shows how the Alters celebrate birthdays, with all those children trying to put forty candles on Aunt Megan's cake and then help her blow them out. Of course they were the trick candles that flare up as soon as you blow them out. Megan finally had to say to the children, "Quit blowing. It's just makes them light up again." She resorted to dumping them in a glass of water. I was pleased with my present for Megan--besides a gift certificate for Kindle, I gathered forty of a variety of things--marshmallows, corks, Hershey kisses, gummy bears, scrunchies, jalopeno almonds, etc., each with a note for suggested use.

It was all great fun, and we had a lovely weekend. The weather was beautiful, and mostly we sat around in the back, watching the kids in the pool or on the tramp (strict rules about adults being around for these activities, though Maddie pretty much qualifies these days). We went to a six-year-old's soccer game to see Sawyer play defense and goalie--he did himself proud and was pleased with all the praise. We went for a long walk at dusk--longer than Megan promised me it would be and though I can ride a good distance on my stationary bike in a fair amount of time, this wore me out. Today we had lunch at Salt Lick, the legendary barbecue place I'd heard much about. I'd heard, with some trepidation, that they put barbecue sauce in their potato salad, and I resolved to abstain--but it was good. We ate under the trees, and the kids could run and play, though they spent some time raptly listening to the guitar player.

The nice thing about my family is that they really all love each other a lot, and all the children get along and have a weekend-long play date (bedtime is sometimes hard). But no adults singles out his or her child for attention--they are equally loving and caring--and meting out discipline--with all the children. But I feel so blessed.

Megan and Brandon live in a sixty-year-old house, and this is the first time I've seen the remodeled kitchen, which completely transformed the whole downstairs--it is now open from front to back, with a huge granite slab island that will eventually have cabinets on one side and seating on the other. At the far end, near what is used as the living/family room, there is a bar with higher stools. It's all great for visiting with whoever's cooking, gathering around to eat, whatever. So much more space and openness--and light. In fact, Megan says at night their house looks like a big-screen TV and she must get drapes. But it's really wonderful, with redone hardwoods (dark), dark wood cabinets, multi-color granite counters, and backsplash of variegated glass bricks--I'm not doing it justice. Megan has impeccable taste, and it's all well done.

So, home, tired, with lots to do. But savoring a wonderful weekend. I see someone has already put some weekend pictures on my Ceiva--the revolving picture frame on my desk.

A break is good for you

Thanks to all the nice folks from Sisters in Crime who've said good things about my blog--you've encouraged me to keep at it, and I hope some of you will guest blog for me!
I haven't done a lick of meaningful work today--I've piddled, washing a bit of laundry, wrapping Christmas packages, catching up on blogs I haven't read, and doing I don't know what. Went to see Charles and take him prune bread (his wife's recipe) but he was asleep and I don't know if the nursing home will let him eat it or not. When I talked to him later, he said he was looking forward to it, and he sounded most jovial. Tonight Sue's parents came for a glass of wine, and we had a good visit--and some terrific smoked trout. Yum, good! I'll be gone the rest of their visit, will probably miss them at Christmas, so it was nice to sit and talk. But where did the day go?
Well, I sort of know. I'm leaving town tomorrow--will spend two days with Jamie (youngest son) and his family, and then Jordan, Jacob and I will spend two days with Colin (oldest son) and his family. So I'll be out of my routine (yes, I'm taking my computer and my Kindle--how bad is that?). But I couldn't settle down today to do anything that would require following through--like tackling the edit of the draft of my second mystery.
But then during free writing this morning, it occurred to me that's good. It's good to be away, out of my routine--my subconscious will keep working on the things that are on my mind, and I can make notes on my computer if need be. But I'll be in fresh company, enjoying grandchildren, with such things as writing and the office and all that far in the distance. I'm looking forward to it.
Oh, there are the usual worries--am I taking the right clothes? I never do, and yet for five days, I'm taking enough for a week at least. Have I remembered all my medications and makeup (in Austin, Sawyer asked me why I wore makeup: "Is it supposed to make you look pretty?" I asked him if he didn't think it was working!) The animals and the house will be well taken care of, with watchful neighbors and a diligent pet-sitters. So I can leave with a free conscience, but there's always that nagging doubt. I am determined to put it behind me and enjoy my family because they're all so wonderful. The only ones I won't see are the Austin branch, and I spent a weekend with them over Halloween.
Of course, I already have notes of things to deal with on Monday morning and a staff meeting scheduled for Monday afternoon right during my nap time!
Happy Thanksgiving everyone! I may blog . . . and I may not!

Family fun, pandemonium, and the long road home

Pandemonium reigned at the Hudgeons' household in Austin when about 55 adults and children gathered to celebrate Sawyer's fifth birthday. They were in and out of the pool, traipsing through the house to the potty (I was impressed that so many used the potty and didn't pee in the pool), and grabbing pizza and drinks. I confess I spent much of the time inside--Austin ws miserably hot like most of Texas--visiting some with Sawyer's other grandmother, some with friends who wandered by, and some with people I'd never met. At pizza time, most of the Alter clan--15 of us, missing only Christian--seemed to end up inside, which was fun. And then after everyone left, Sawyer shed his swimsuit and in the buff began to open presents. Then again it was pandemoniuim, and I commented to Jamie that our family sure was noisy when they get together. "Are you just now noticing?" he asked. By 9:45 I thought it was midnight and went upstairs to my lair in the trees (about which all the kids are curious), read e-mails, finished a mystery, and had another glass of wine. But the other grownups stayed up by the pool until almost 2 a.m.--and some showed it this morning.

There were quiet moments. Austin's mornings are cool and blessedly bug-free (mosquitoes soon come out in full force), and I sat on the porch by the pool with a book and coffee, watching my younger grandchildren play--they were exiled outside so they wouldn't wake sleeping adults. Sure, they squabbled, but for the most part they shared, laughed, and played well together. Eventually everyone but a couple of adults, including me, ended back in the pool, eating pizza for lunch while they swam. Melanie, bless her, had made a run to Starbucks and stopped for ham and bread, so I had a sandwich--pizza is not on my diet. I sat on the porch and thought how blessed I am with children and grandchildren. I seem to have a pretty good relationship with all of them, though some of the younger grandchildren that I see less often are a bit uncertain. Kegan, 2, from Houston, will come up and talk to me and give me things to hold but he won't sit on my lap, and his three-year-old sister turns shy when I ask for a kiss, though she gave me a nice going-away hug. I can't imagine how one woman can get so lucky to have four wonderful children, all of whom married wonderful people, and produced beautiful and sweet children. Me, prejudiced? Naw, it's all true.

Jordan, Jaob and I left about 1:15 for what proved to be the long road home. We had to pull off a couple of times, once in Temple because Jordan and Jacob needed hamburgers. When we pulled back on, traffic was suddenly bumper to bumper and stayed that way until we turned west at Hillsboro. And Jordan had to stop at West for sausage. The traffic would be bumper to bumper, 20 mph, and then for no reason pick up to 60 mph and move along nicely, then back to creeping. I told Jordan I felt like I was on Amtrak--slow down, start up, slow down, stop. It took us over 5 hours to get to my house--should be 3 hours on a good day. Fortunately Jordan and I travel well together (Jacob did well until the last hour of the trip when he was pretty much replaced by this whiny child I didn't recognize--though sometimes the Jacob I knew came back briefly). Jordan put my bags on the porch and headed home--no time for even bringing them inside. We were all exhausted, but it was a wonderful weekend.

And we'll do it all over again next weekend when they'll all be in Fort Worth, celebrating my retirement and birthday.

I went quite a bit over my Weight Watchers daily points this weekend (didn't use up all my weekly bous points though) needless to say but I noticed that I ate a lot differently than I would have before I started the program--this morning when others were having cereal, etc. I had a small thing of yogurt. Yesterday I had about 2 Tbsp. of eggs instead of a big helping. And surely my ham sandwich was less points that two pizzas. Saturday night I ate one piece of Margarita pizza which I figured I could count as thin-crust cheese and only about 1/4 of a small piece of cake. The proof will come tomorrow when I weigh.

Three days of work this week, and then I'm retired. I think I feel great about it but of course there's lingering doubt. And it may not hit me until next Tuesday when I wake up and the kids are all gone and I really have to plan the rest of my life. But I do have a lot of irons in the fire, and I'm hopeful. Plus closets and files and bookshelves that really are over-run and need sorting. And friends to have lunch with. It may be what they way is true, retirement can be the busiest time of your life.

If this is what retirement is like . . . .

I may give it up before I begin. This morning I did sleep late and laze a bit over the paper and coffee, but then I did a grocery, hardware, jewelry shop (battery for a watch) run, unpacked groceries and spent about an hour and a half making salmon cakes and mashed potatoes for dinner. Oh, and I did two loads of laundry. I was really ready for a nap. After I napped, Jordan and Jacob arrived, all ready for the potato chip/beer party next door at Jay and Susan's. I took a small bottle of white wine, so I could sip out of the bottle like all the beer drinkers, but it was soon clear that Jacob was not enjoying the party--too many people he didn't know, too hot outside. So of course I was delegated to take him home and fix supper. I cooked all the salmon cakes (having been assured Jordan and her friend Arden would be back in an hour to eat), heated the mashed potatoes, cooked some broccoli, and added blueberries to Jacob's plate because he loves them. He ate one blueberry, spit it out, and said "It's yucky." Thereafter he proceeded into a screaming fit because he wanted Mommy and Addie--I explained they'd come back soon (good thing he didn't hold me to my word bcause at 10:30 I haven't seen them yet). I let him cry a while, then almost dragged him back to where I was eating dinner (darn it, I was hungry if he wasn't); he went back to the front door for some more screaming/crying (worse I've ever seen him do) and finally came to the back room because he wanted his pacifier (he's way too old for that) and froggie, his can't-live-without stuffed toy. He watched TV, I ate dinner and cleaned the kitchen, and then he came into th kitchen and said "I want my dinner." He ate all the blueberries and some of the salmon cake and said, "It's good." His mood improved considerably and, oh great triumph, he used the potty twice. We actually had a fun and pleasant evening, though he is fanatical about finding bugs on the floor and saying, "Get it, Juju." I will have to teach him about Alber Schweitzer. Also he found a plastic gun in the back of my closet that shoots stryofoam bullets, so I spent a lot of time talking about not pointing it at himself or others. Now he's sleeping (I have taken the gun out of the crib--sounds terribly uncomfortable to me), and I'm about ready to follow him. The girls are going to spend the night in the guest house, and I hope they're quiet about coming in.
Have I done a thing today that makes me feel like an author or intellectual person? Nope, except I'm still reading the mystery set in Norway--got to finish it before I go to sleep. And Lisa, with her mother born in Norway and the Norwegian relatives who visit every year, has got to read it. It's The Body in the Fjord by Katharine Hall Page. Full of Norwegian culture and food--the latter being why I started it.

Spontaneity

Tonight I decided that if I was controlling reitrement, it had to be about spontaneity. Tomorrow is Jacob's third birthday but I will be signing books in Albany, Texas. I'll miss the pool party, which doesn't bother me, and I'll get there in time for the heavy hors d'ouevres supper. I called Jamie to make sure they'd drive me home after supper, and he suggested I come home with them to Frisco and spend Father's Day. I said I'd think about it, and after about two minutes thought, I started packing a bag, arranging pet care, etc. I don't get that many chances to see those girls, and they apparently have something "special" planned for Father's Day, so it should be fun. I will probably have to take the train back Monday morning (unless by chance Jamie drives me to meet Jordan and family in Coppell Sunday night), so I might miss work Monday. But, hey, I'm on the edge of retirement. I'm practicing for a new life.
So all thoughts of work went out of my mind tonight. I did odd jobs, like laundry, writing a short piece for the TCU Press newsletter, ordering books for my Kindle--on the topic I want to explore: the use of food in mysteries. It's so prevalent these days, I'm curious about why it works so well and wondering if I should jump into the overcrowded pool. Earlier this week I queried the company that has had my first mystery for six months with no response and got--no response. So my evening project has been revising the sequel but I have given it up for this evening and probably until Monday evening. Good thing to let it burble in the back of my mind.

An Easter/Birthday celebration

I'm just back from Houston, where all of us celebrated the second b'day of Kegan, the youngest among us, and the upcoming 40th b'day of Colin David, my oldest child--no, I cannot believe I have a child of 40. With eight adults (ten one night) and seven children, it was controlled chaos and wonderful fun. I'm not much of a photographer, but I tried--the picture on the top left is Colin (and behind him his father-in-law John), next most of the children gathered around one table for two kinds of cake--Kegan's chocolate and Colin's favorite yellow cake (always drove me wild when he was a child--I want chocolate!), then Maddie, the oldest child, doing some Karioke--she has a charming voice, and I wish now I'd asked her to sing "Michael Rowed the Boat Ashore" And finally my four grandsons, ranging in age from a couple of months shy of five to the two-year-old, three towheads and Jacob with his dark, curly hair--and inability to stay still for more than two minutes. The children all play well together and are delighted to see each other--as I watched them digging in the huge sandpile yesterday or hunting from eggs (hidden in plain view, of course) in the rain this morning, I thought what rich memories they are growing up with. Maddie, at almost nine, is by far the oldest and is the self-appointed caretaker of babies--she cuddles and loves when they cry, changes their diapers when needed, puts them on the potty, dresses them, and seems to enjoy it all. And she and three-year-old Morgan sleep all in a tangle on the pull-out bed in the living room. And then, a thoroughly modern child, she is off to her hand-held computer games.

Lisa, Colin's wife, knocked herself out cooking, and we ate royally--eggs and sausage Sat. morning, grilled hot dogs Sat. noon, and Doris casserole (which I've mentioned here before) Sat. night--Colin's request. We also had Colin's queso: a note about that below. And this morning, sausage and Rotel quiches and that wonderful potato casserole made from frozen hash browns--everything in it you should not eat but oh! so good.

I had been a bit apprehensive about the trip--now I view that as babying myself, but I was so tired much of last week that I was afraid of getting tired. I went to bed early both nights, slept long, and got a two-hour nap Sat. Colin said he felt bad about putting his 70-year-old mom on an air mattress but there wasn't much choice. I had confined quarters in his already overcrowded study, and it was fine except that my hips discovered they really don't like air mattresses. For much of yesterday, one hip didn't seem to want to work right. But I still slept pretty well and am not nearly as exhausted tonight as I expected.

I noticed an interesting thing. Maybe because of my just-past pneumonia, but my kids are--well, careful of me. The boys, Colin and Jamie, are always there to see if I need an arm to lean on and almost always I say, "Thanks. I'm fine." And in passing each child gives me a pat on the shoulder, a quick rub on the back, some much appreciated gesture of affection, and I try to return them. I was always being urged to sit and rest, until I felt useless, and I was always given the stable good patio chair and not one of the collapsible ones--even if it meant moving a semi-protesting grandchild. I love the attention and the affection it reflects but I don't want them to start thinking of me as old--or letting me think that way. And that's why much of the time I say thanks but no thanks to the kind offer of an arm. Of course it was a bit much as we left today when I said I had to go back and get the muffins and water I'd left--Colin volunteered and came back waving the muffins and a bottle of white wine. "Is this what you wanted?"

A word about Colin's queso: a friend gave me this years ago (she has now forgotten it) but it is the best queso ever, heavy and hearty enough that I used to serve it to the kids for supper when they were in high school:

Brown 1 lb. hamb. and 1 lb. ground sausage, breaking up clumps as you go (your choice to use hot, mild, or regular sausage)

Put in crock pot with

1 lb. Velveeta

1 medium jar Pace Picante (again, your choice--choose hot, medium or mild)

1 can cream of mushroom soup

When melted and ingredients are blended, serve with corn chips. Enjoy!

Life Goes on

When you're really feeling bad, so bad you don't have the energy to think about food or brush your teeth, it's hard to imagine you'll ever feel better. But I really do. I'm back at work, going full steam, trying to make up for time lost. I started today with a doctor's appt.--I'm better but not 100% over it; not contagious however so I can go to Houston this weekend. Went to the office and then to meet old and dear friends for lunch--he was my ex-husband's trainer when Joel was a resident and then his senior partner. Years ago I told Connie that when I was a single parent I always had the feeling Russ was looking over my shoulder and would take care of me, and she said he would have. I remember as a resident's wife I was sort of scared of him or intimidated or something, but now we're old friends. We laughed a lot--and were quite honest about some people we've known--and when I ordered the twice-baked potato, Russ changed his order and said he'd have that too, and that's what we all three ended up with. Halfway through the meal, Russ looked at Connie and said "What am I eating?" Connie is a wonderful caretaker but quite forthright with him, as when she said, "Neither one of us know what you're talking about." They're moving to a northern suburb to be near their son next week, so I was particularly glad for today's luncheon--I'll see them again but not as often as I have. It's funny to think how relationships grow and change over the years--maybe as I've grown and changed and become my own person.
After lunch though, boy, was I ready for my nap. John said to me tonight that pneumonia will do that to you, so I immediately began to worry about getting worn out at our family get-together in Houston for Easter. But I think I'll just beg off whenever I need to.
Tonight I cooked for myself for the first time in two weeks or longer--stuffed a zucchini with the core of the zucchini, bread crumbs, sauteed onion and celery, and then put cheese on it to bake. Pretty good, and for once I didn't overcook the zucchini until it was mushy--this was almost crisp enough to need a knife.
Two days ago I wrote in a frenzy on my novel--ideas kept tumbling out of my fingers. But last night I only wrote a dull little piece that covered some necessary business--a funeral. But I have ideas percolating in my mind, and I guess I'll just have to let them percolate. In a way, nearing the end of the novel, I'm afraid--afraid of how to work it all out, afraid of the word count, just downright intimidated. But I am distracting myself with a J.A.Jance novel I hadn't read before.
I'm so glad I live in the technological age--my oldest granddaughter sent me a text message today about whether or not I as getting rid of my convertible. I guess her dad told her I thought, maybe for a day, that I'd get a Smart Car. But I loved writing back and forth with her. Have a few texting questions to ask the cyber folks this weekend--like is message length limited?
Oh, it may be time for another nap!

Goodbye, Christmas!

Jordan, Christian and Jacob came for supper tonight--I traded them for supper if the adults would put all my Christmas bags and boxes back up in the attic--I do not like to go in the attic and don't do it at all when I'm home alone. Jacob wanted so badly to climb the pull-down ladder, but his mother remained firmly at the bottom, handing things to Christian. The staircase is right next to the bathroom, and Jacob kept pushing her toward the bathroom, telling her to "go potty." At one point she let him push her in there, and he tried to close the door on her. Christian promised him next year he could help, and Jordan told him it would soon be his chore to put up Juju's Christmas. Jacob has new shoes--the kind with lights in them--and he is delighted, stomping around the house to be sure they light up. When they left he gave me a sweet kiss and leaned into me--his version of a hug. I've noticed that several of my grandchildren don't actively hug--they passively allow you to hug them.
I fixed chicken piccata, which Christian said was delicious but I didn't feel it was my greatest--the chicken breasts were way too thick, pound as I might. And the green beans had been in the fridge long enough to be a little tough. I made a new salad dressing (a recipe published in the paper from a now-gone landmark restaurant) using blue cheese powder that I had to order online. Delicious.
What started out as a dull weekend ended up being very pleasant--Saturday I went to Central Market, where a minimal list soon grew to an over $40 purchase--easy to do there. Then I had a yoga lesson, and Elizabeth taught me two new poses--for those in the know, they are standing cat/cow and boat, both designed to strengthen abs, in keeping with my desire to lose weight and slim my genetically thick middle. Last night, Charles, Mary Lu and I went to Sapristi's, the local restaurant where he can get his beloved mussels. It was a really pleasant evening.
Last week, maybe Thursday, I followed online instructions and sent my mystery to a company that had previously asked me for anthology contributions, which I happily wrote and supplied. Saturday I got back a letter of instructions for submitting my manuscript to the submissions editor. Not sure if this means a step forward or is routine. One of the requirements is an author tip sheet, all concerned about liability. I answered no to most of the questions--quotes from books, speeches, songs, the Bible, etc.--but yes to this is a book set in a real city and mentions real places. You have to show written permission for everything but casual mention, so I did what I needed to do anyway--started going back through the manuscript. I thought maybe I'd mentioned only three restaurants, but reading I was amazed at the specific places and some brand names I'd included. In some cases I wrote around it--particularly the line where I walked about the cardboard pizza at Chucky Cheese (I said tonight if Jacob has a b'day party there, I am NOT going!). None of that is in my manuscript now. Their carefulness is a good lesson for me as an editor, and I plan to share it at the office tomorrow.
The good thing about rereading one more time, in addition to catching a few typos, is that I'm putting myself back into the world of Kelly Jones and her family and friend. You know what? I missed them!

The aftermath of Thanksgiving

Tonight, it's eight o'clock, and my house is very quiet and pretty much straightened up, pretty much decorated for Christmas. This afternoon, about two, when the last child left, I thought I'd go sit at my desk, have a glass of wine, and then nap. But I kept finding one more thing to do--and tonight there are still several one more things--a load of laundry to be folded, another to be started, a dishwasher to unload, Chistmas lights to be tested. For some unthinking reason, I scheduled my annual Christmas party (it's a no-tree sometimes but not always annual tree-trimming party) for next Saturday, which wouldn't be bad, except that the TCU Press big event of the year--our Annual Autograph Extravaganza--is the night before. I know it will all get done, but oh me!
I hate to see the children leave, but when Megan called tonight and asked, "Have you got your house back?" my answer was "yeah, sort of." She, bless her, was on her way to her office at 5 p.m., expecting to work about four hours--when she's left Fort Worth for Austin about noon.
Jacob is confused. Megan said he looked at her purse this morning and said, "Juju's purse." We have identical bags, because she bought herself one and then bought one for me--they are sort of a camel tan--and then Mel bought herself a black one. So trendy we are. Jacob keeps telling his mom that Gaga is at Juju's house. The Austin grandsons call me Gaga while everyone else in the family calls me Juju. Gaga was an invention of Sawyer's and his family refuses to let go of it, though he once looked at me solemnly and said, "Are you Juju?"
I'v'e thought a lot about my feelings about this holiday, because my self-confidence in my balance went all to you-know-where. At my brother's, when we had to park in a field and then negotiate a gravel path that I know I've walked many times, I was really uncertain, hesitant. Jamie gave me his arm and joked that he was uncertain on the gravel too and we'd hold each other up. This morning, just crossing a parking lot to go to lunch, I had to walk near someone if not holding on, and at Best Buy I simply held on to Maddie, who was most obliging though I am certain is puzzled. I've thought of several things--do I become more dependent because I know my children will take care of me? Gosh, I hope it's not that! Do I get more self-conscious about my balance because I so don't want them to think I'm getting old and dependent? Maybe part of it. But I know my balance is definitely connected to anxiety, and it may be that my anxiety is heightened when they're all here--maybe partly from good anxiety (excitement, enjoyment of their visit, etc.) and partly from worrying about herding all those cats and all that has to be done. I am trying so hard these days to let the visits roll by without worrying about dishes and cleaning up (they do a good job before they leave) and all that. I don't know, but it's something to ponder on.
Tonight I got back to business, reading the final chapter of my cookbook. Next step is to answer the editor's questions, which aren't many.
I've got the basics of my Christmas decorations up, but I need Jordan or Megan's eye. Megan is gone, so tomorrow Jordan is going to come over for brunch. We need to work on white lights, fluffing up the fake outdoor trees at the front door. And of course, she'll critique what I've done-with a huge boost of help from Maddie.
I'm left with happy memories of a good holiday.

Family lifestyle

These pictures are Sawyer and his dad working on the garage door Brandon built for him--after they had repaired their real garage door. B. used a coke carton or something similar for the garage and rigged a slatted door that Sawyer could pull up and down. But the pictures speak volumes to me about how Megan and Brandon are raising their children. They've apparentaly worked out a schedule whereby he gets up with the children on Saturday, while she sleeps, and she gets up on Sunday. Sunday was the day I spent with them rather than going to the book festival, and when B. got up at ten, he went straight to work on the door he'd started the night before. Megan and I spent the morning playing with Ford and the horses and stable I'd sent for his b'day. There was tons of work to be done around that house, but they devoted their time to playing with the boys. About eleven, we were all on the porch admiring the garage door, and one of them asked, "What's the plan for the day?" and the other said, "I don't know. What's the plan?" Then the subject went away--there was no plan. After a while we had lunch, and I asked about the plan. They didn't know and asked about my plan. I said I thought I'd go to my guest apt., read, do my yoga, take a nap and shower. They said that sounded good. When I wandered back to the house two or three hours later, B. and Sawyer were on a bike ride, Megan had gotten on a cleaning and sorting kick, and Ford was happily playing around her. She talked of talking him for a ride on her bike but that never materialized. About 5, it appeared that Sawyer really really wanted to go to Loew's to buy springs for his garage door, so we all went for a trip that was so long Megan and Ford and I sat in the car and watched the sunset. Then it was back home, rush to feed the boys, get them to bed, and dinner for the adults at eight or eight-thirty.

My point in recounting all this is that they don't have a plan. They just play with their kids and enjoy them, and they make me feel guilty. I always had a plan, always had things I had to do. I didn't play with them all the time--I let them play with each other. Of course there were four, not two, and they played amicably, but still I often wasn't part of it.Yes, I took them to parks and zoos and skipped along paths with them and all that, but when at home, I had things to do. How could I have thought those things were more important than my children? They don't seem to have suffered, and Megan pointed out to me last night that it's a different world these days--B. takes equal responsibility for feeding, diapering and all that--this morning, getting the boys fed and ready for school was as much his responsibility as Megan's. And I think that's wonderful. But I am left with this lingering--why didn't I do that? Why was I so fixated on chores and clean kitchens and meals planned ahead of time? I comfort myself that my kids all turned out to be fine people, so I must not have scarred them.

This morning, two-year-old Ford, who was still a bit unsure about me this weekend because he doesn't see me often, brought me a book to read and pointed to a big chair where we could read it together. After that Sawyer brought a book, and the three of us read it together, with Sawyer pointing out to me that he could read because he recognized "the" twice in one sentence. Be still, my heart! Moments worth gold.

I am home and glad to be. My dog and cat are glad to be back in their routine. I'm tired but caught up on mail and email and ready, slowly, to go back to routine.

I've already voted. Have you?

Book festival and family visits

Here I am in Austin, for the Texas Book Festival and to visit Megan and Brandon, Sawyer and Ford. Melinda and I,with her friend K.K., arrived at the house in the middle of trick-or-treat time, so while M&B took the boys, we sat in the front yard and gave out treats. Lots of fun, some wonderful costumes, and mostly very polite, pleasant children. When things quieted down, Megan said, "I'm starving. When I asked what was for supper, she said,"I don't have a clue." We cobbled together a rotini and meat sauce dish with salad and it was delicious. Last night she brined and Brandon grilled pork chops and she made polenta with cheese, while I did a salad. Another delicious meal, and the polenta was great for breakfast, although both boys declined it.
I have forgotten how hectic a household is with a 4-yr-old and a 2-yr old, but these are active boys and something is going on all the time, most of it noisy and happy. They were witches for Halloween and are still wearing their costumes around two days later. Fortuitously "The Wizard of Oz"was on TV this moning. Sawyer is the more serious of the two and ask such questions as how to spell bomb hole, followed by "What isa bomb hole?" He is very interested in explosions. In fact, he's very interested in how everything works. Ford is more mischieivous, with a twinkle in his eye that makes you think he is planning mischief.
The book festival was fun though tiring and hot. Still I saw lots of people I was glad to see and our books seemed to sell well and looked great in our display. I'm hoping Melinda took a picture. We had two books featured and went to the sessions on both to cheer. Met authors, designers, and others I was glad to make the connection with, so it was a day well spent.

A lazy day of fine food

Today when I was at Central Market I decided I'd eat things that I really like today, so I shopped accordingly. For lunch, I had a wee bit of marinated herring, another wee bit of smoked salmon, and a plate of braseola (the beef version of prosciutto) topped with watercress, shaved parmegiano, lemon and olve oil. I almost took a picture of the plate because it was so pretty. For supper I made my favorite new salad dressing (sour cream, mayo, lemon and blue cheese--no not fattening at all), sauteed some grape tomatoes and green beans, and then floured and sauteed filets of Dover sole, and topped them with a lemon butter sauce. My eyes were bigger than my stomach, and the green beans are in the fridge for another day.
Other than that it was a lazy day--the highlight of the day being the grocery store until Jacob came over briefly. I read, I napped, I piddled (still learning), I paid a few bills. Jacob and his mom came about four, and bless his heart--he had the biggest grin on his face as he hurtled himself across the porch and barrelled into me at knee level--I honestly thought for a minute we'd both go down, he hit so hard. Jordan brought goods for the garage sale she's planning next weekend, and of course I picked them over and found one that I just had to have for a Christmas present--it just had someone special's name written all over it. Jacob found ten things he had to have, broke three of them, and when we got into one of our usual contests--him saying, "No," and me saying, "Yes" (we do that a lot and it's a joke), he said 'Shut up." Not once but twice. I explained to him firmly that we did NOT talk like that. His mom was so horrified when I told her and kept saying, "Are you sure that's what he said?" She declared it a time-out offense next time. They trotted off to someone's house to watch a football game--oh, boredom!--and I fixed my dinner, wandered out onto the proch where Sue and a friend were using my grill. They invited me to join them but I have miles to go tonight.
Having not done anything constructive all day, I'm going to proofread, eat a bit of chocolate, and keep reading that mystery which is okay but not great. I rarely put one down unfinished.

A Disappointing Day

I had thought my two oldest granddaughters would come spend a couple of days with me. When asked, they both said they wanted to come, and Jamie said this week, when they're out of day camp but not back in school, would be ideal. But he didn't call, and when I finally got hold of him to ask today he said Edie, five, had decided she didn't want to. I wasn't surprised--her parents both travel on business but they make sure their trips don't concide. I don't know that she's ever spent the night without one or the other of them, and when they're at my house, she usually ends up in bed with them. But Maddie came before and declared it was the most fun weekend she could remember. Now, she said she didn't want to come without Edie. Yes, I'm disappointed. I had made some plans, made out a grocery list, all that. But I agree with Jamie, better not to push it. I just told him when they wanted to come, I'd welcome them. I will have Jacob Saturday night, so that will do for my grandmother streak.
And my children's half-sister, child of my ex's second marriage, was due to stay at Jordan's tonight, on her way from California back to D.C. and law school, so Jordan was going to fix dinner, and I was looking forward to seeing Dylan. No word from Dylan (I wonder if she'll just show up at ten) and Jordan slept all day, doing away with a stomach bug. So I fixed some leftover chicken with blue cheese sauce (yum!), stir fried zucchini and mushrooms, and cut up a fruit salad. Really good, and now I'm full.
I also finished reading The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peeling Pie Society, and you know that feeling when you finish a book you've really been drawn into--I didn't want it to end. I wanted to keep reading about those people, so that's yet another disappointment.
Now I'm going back to work on my own book. I surely hope that's not disappointing.

Family, Friends, and Birthdays

How to say it? Last night was my birthday, and it was a wonderful, wonderful evening. My kids had planned, worked, and schemed to put together a perfect party. Eighty of my nearest and dearest gathered at La Puertita (a former church building with arched ceiling, a nave, and rich atmosphere that is part of the Joe T. Garcia's restaurant complex). Some were people I see frequently; a few, people I haven't seen in a long time. We mingled and visited, the children played--I told people all the children in the room were my grandchildren, until I realized my niece and nephew each had a baby there and my neighbor's children were also there. What struck me most was the party atmosphere--everyone was laughing and having a good time. We went through a buffet line for good Mexican food, and then Colin and Jamie briefly thanked everyone for coming and said, "Thank you for loving our mother as much as we do." Be still, my heart. There were no speeches, northing formal. They had set out a picture album, a guest book, and a computer slide show that rotated throughout the evening. Okay, there were a couple of pictures of me with frizzy hair and a wine jug or some other unattractive attribute but mostly I looked at them and thought what a rich and wonderful life I've led--and while I was never a show-stopper, I didn't look too bad in my prime, though a couple of kind people said I look better than ever now. The group picture above is all of us at our happiest and silliest (darn! I didn't realize how tiny and dark it would come out, and I don't know how to change the size once I've posted it); the other is me with my very protective big brother.

If I was proud of my children, I was grateful for the many many friends who cared enough to come out on a Sunday night, in the heat, to celebrate with me. One couple postponed a vacation trip a day or two to be there, and many others alluded to the times we've had together over the years. It was wonderful to be surrounded by the people that I most value. Of course, I missed the out-of-towners who couldn't come and those who had previous travel plans that kept them away. But I am most blessed with good friends. Yeah, it's been a rich seventy years and looking to get better.

Today I took the day off to reclaim my house and my senses, if I have any left after the high excitement of the weekend. I've had several phone calls about what wonderful children I have and beautiful grandchildren--I couldn't agree more. I've done loads and loads of sheets and towels, and picked up this odd thing and that and returned them to where they should be. Jordan took the day off too, and we had a birthday lunch at our favorite bistro. And then I took a two-hour nap, one of those where I could have kept drifting off if I hadn't been horrified when I looked at the clock.

Tomorrow is my "real" birthday, and I'm going back to work. I was tempted to take the day off, but there's too much waiting to be done. But I will have a b'day lunch with my office group and a b'day dinner with Jeannie and Betty at which we celebrate all three of our June/July birthdays.

And tomorrow I'll also get back to the real world routine, working, exercising, writing--and this blog will get back to being somewhat about writing. I've turned it this weekend into a very personal blog, and I thank you for bearing with me.

Camp Juju

The kids have labeled my remodeled guest apartment Camp Juju, and it's a hit. Last night an overtired Morgan fell down, was instantly pitiful. When asked if she wanted to go home, she said through her tears, "No, I want to go to Camp Juju."

The fun goes on. As you can above, cookie decorating is serious business--Jordan had sprinkles from wall to wall in her kitchen. Running under the hose and sitting in the back yard are serious too. And the picture of me? That's the oldest and youngest of our crew.

We're still having scheduling conflicts this morning. The crew at Jordan's house ate at nine, plan to ride the zoo train at 11. At ten the contingent at my house is waiting for the youngest, a morning napper, to wake up so we can go to breakfast. It is, as Jamie once said, like being in two different cities, and it's the reason I redid the apartment so it will sleep eight. But the babies are still too young. In a couple of years, the schedules should smooth out--but I bet there'll be another baby!

Tonight is the party, and I'm not sure what the kids have afoot. I do know it involves old family pictures, probably showing me at my worst, and this morning when I said I was going to have a bit of cottage cheese (one of my staples) Jamie whirled around and asked, "Did you say cottage cheese?" Then he rushed away as though on an important errand. I admit to much excitement but a little nervousness about the whole affair.

Lazy days on the front porch

Last night everyone was here--eventually. Mel, Maddie, and Edie got stuck in traffice and didn't get here until nine o'clock, long after supper. But the rest of us sat on the front porch, eating watermelon and listening to Neil Diamond played way too loudly. Rednecks.

I am continually impressed by how much all the adults in the family love and look out for their nieces and nephews, with the same degree of affection and attention they show their own children. And the little ones respond by feeling perfectly comfortable and happy, no matter who is holding them, teasing them, chasing them. The party, led by Jacob, migrated from the front porch to the red concrete lions that he likes to ride. It looked like a small army of toddlers, all about the same size, though they actually range in age from four to one. And if the children are having fun being together, so are the dogs. Jamie and Mel brought Mozby, their cocolate lab, and Scooby could not wait to get to Mozby this morning, jumped over a footstool to go stand by the playroom door where Mozby waited on the other side.

Of course today it's a complicated question of scheduling--when one is napping the others are playing, then when two of the others are used to napping, the morning napper will be up and about and ready for the day. It looks like we won't make it to the pool until late afternoon, which suits me. Then we'll all eat barbecue at Jordan and Christian's.

I am thoroughly enjoying them and doing better than ever at not sweating the small stuff. Last night I put dinner on the table, told everyone it was there, and decided if it got cold before they ate, it was their own fault. And a few dishes in the sink? I'll get to them when I can. No need to do them right now. Write? Read? What's that. Haven't done it in two days. Barely remembered to water the plants and dogs.

A Whole Lot of Nothing Much

Jacob is in his crib in the guest room--on the monitor I can hear him talking to himself, Scooby is at my feet, the cat is fed, and the world is in its place. Jacob is spending the night, and he adapts beautifully, only asking twice "Where's Mama?" and satisfied each time when I tell him Mama has gone to a party. Hunter from next door, age seven, came over for a while, and they watched Schreck together. Jacob was fascinated with a "big boy" and threw his pacifier at him, which nonplussed Hunter. His mom and I, with glasses of wine, watched and laughed.
I hate it when little things go wrong or minor errands loom--like I really need to get my car cleaned, and I have to go for a drivers license--I like to clear the slate of such things but they linger. And this week my remote keyboard quit working (probably because I dropped it) and I was so frustrated trying to work on the laptop keyboard. I finally got Brandon on the phone. He said press this, press that, and it was fixed in about three minutes. Made my day.
I haven't been back to my mystery in a week or so. I sidetracked myself reading Lillian Stewart Carl's The Murder Hole, set in Scotland on Loch Ness no less, and then I had work things to do, a column to write, and other distractions. But a couple of nights ago I reread what I've written and began to get back in gear. What I wrote that night struck me as insipid and will probaby go, but I think I wrote good stuff this afternoon. And tomorrow looms long and quiet--I can write. Jacob's parents will come get him about nine--I really want to watch the special "Meet the Press" because I was an enormous fan of Tim Russert. He's one of those figures that each of us feel was a personal friend. Then I have to make banana pudding, and after that the day is mine until 5:15 when Charles will come by, and I'll drive us--and the banana pudding--out to Jordan's for Father's Day, with a stop for the grocery things I forgot today. Until then, I'll eat smoked salmon and leftover cold steak (one of the world's great treats) and broccoflower (really good with butter, salt and pepper) and I'll write and read. Sounds like a wonderful day.
Jordan was watching the floods in Iowa tonight on TV and said, "There's a lot of bad stuff in the world," and I couldn't agree more. The world is in turmoil, and this country certainly is. A friend and I talked about it yesterday, and we see lean years ahead--high, high prices of everything because of the gas crisis and a period of real tough cutting back for most of us. I read a list of things you can do to save money, like stop buying lattes, but they're the things I already do. As Jean said, "I thought that was how we live." But I wonder and worry about trips--will I be able to go to Scotland? I feel secure, but I see some luxuries and treats disappearing. I feel perfectly able to step up and do my part in such a situation, but I worry about the careers of some of my children. Yes, Jordan, a lot of bad things are happening.

Cookbooks, Retirement or not, and Babysitting

This is Morgan (three in August) in a picture that her folks captioned "Who needs a bunny if you've got a garden hose?"

The Grace & Gumption ladies are going to do a cookbook--and then Grace & Gumption II. That book may have become a cottage industry, all its own. The contributors met tonight--on my porch, of course, with wine--and someone said they were told it should be called Grace & Consumption, and I suggested Grace & Conspicious Consumption with a nod to Thorstein Veblen about whom the main thing I remember is he thought sheep should be grazing on the White House lawn. Not a bad idea. Sheep on a cowboy's lawn--makes me giggle.
I sort of engineered the cookbook, because I'm so interested in cooking and cookbooks, but what fun to find the recipes and kitchen habits of the women we wrote about. We figure we can write about household hints--adoption agency founder Edna Gladney had a lot of them, and Ninnie Baird of Mrs. Baird's Bakery has some too, like putting out cucumber peel to get rid of ants, which I recently tried and reported on. Electra Waggoner Wharton, the heiress who entertained lavishly in her mansion in the first decades of the 19th century, probably didn't cook much, but she sure decorated with smilax. And I found a recipe for Hollandaise by a more recent woman in my chapter--she made it with mayonnaise, mustard, soy and one other ingredient. It's not like any Hollandaise I ever heard of! So the cookbook project will be fun.

And then there's Grace & Gumption II: The Unsung Heroines. That's just my working title, but we had a brief article in the newspaper asking people to send stories of their female relatives. I haven't gotten much response, but I intend to pursue it and the ladies tonight were generally interested. G&G takes a lot of our time and lives, but it's fun--and we're such a good group.

Book projects like that are the reason I don't retire. I have so much fun doing what I do, working on these projects--and I can't imagine waking up and wondering what I was going to do that day. I hope, of course, to interest someone in that first mystery, but I think I'll go ahead and work on the second one. And I've been reading a lot about "boomer lit" and older heroines, and I have a start on a novel about a 70-something amateur sleuth. So many project, so little time.

Of course today I had another project and that was Jacob. His mom had a telephone interview, so I kept him while Jordan locked herself in the study and talked on the phone--for a loooong time. Of course this was at the time I was trying to get ready for the ladies--so I was half in the playroom, half in the kitchen. But I didn't want Jacob to wander to the front and scream for his mama, so every time he came into the kitchen, I took his hand and steered him back to the playroom. Pretty soon, he was coming to me, holding out his hand, and walking me back there. Then he'd pat the chair or daybed or wherever he wanted me to sit--when he patted the dollhouse floor I tried to explain that I really couldn't do that! In between I did make a good spread of blue cheese, cream cheese, onion, lemon juice and lemon zest. The lemon somehow softened the blue cheese, and one friend who said she didn't like blue cheese really liked it.

Now it's blessedly quiet, and the kitchen is clean. Scooby and Wywy and I are settled for the evening, and I'm going back to the last part of Eat, Pray, Love.

Saturdays

Sometimes Saturday seems long and dull to me, but not today. I thought most of the day that by now I would have a sleeping (well, I hoped he woudl be) two-year-old in the portacrib, but the babysitter surfaced late in the day, and I am relieved. That's somewhat of a disappointment. I love having him in the evening and don't have a problem putting him to bed. But in the morning, he's like the dog and cat--wakes me early and wants to pee and be fed. I am able to take care of the animals needs rather quickly and go back to bed for another hour or so. But with Jacob, there's no back to bed.
This morning I ran errands all over the place. Sometimes I'm sort of intimidated by doing that. My anxiety makes me afraid I'll encounter steps I can't handle or whatever. But I took myself in hand, told me I could do this in good spirits, and did it (actually Eat, Pray, Love gave me some helpful thought patterns). But I got a long overdue present for my new great-nephew, a hook to hold my new bird feeder, browsed the show warehouse but found nothing I wanted that wouldn't hurt my toe, got some b'day presents (which involved walking all around a huge shopping center), and went to the grocery. Pretty proud of myself.
Ever have a hungry day? I'm having one, maybe because I didn't eat much lunch--but I had two scrambled eggs with salmon for breakfast. Tonight I fixed halibut on roasted beets and greens with an orange/dill gremolata. Took most of it to Jeannie and Jim but kept a helping for myself. It never occurred to me that once Jeannie got Jim home she would be tired to the point of exhaustion and no cooking, but she is--Jim needs medication and help around the clock, and she was most grateful when I offered dinner. I ate my portion and was still hungry--so I heated half the twice-baked potato I got with a coupon at Central Market (I got two for Jeannie and Jim too). And after a bit I was still hungry, so I had ice cream with chocolate sauce. I am going to weigh 200 lbs. if I don't watch out! I did exercise today so that makes so far a steady week. I'm still not doing the arm stretches because my shoulder hurts--sometimes it feels almost okay but then, last night, trimming green beans hurt. Go figure!
Tonight I've sent queries to two agents about my mystery and done some research on a company that publishes for the library market and reads unagented material--with some pretty stringent guidelines, like no sexual tension. Not sure I'm ready to try that. I'll try agents first. Having joined Sisters in Crime and then signed up for the Senior Sleuths Forum (refers to the age of the protagonist and not the author, though I find most of them are senior like me), I find they're lots of help.
But now I'm going to take a vacation from Liz and Eat, Pray, Love--she just left India and arrived in Indonesia, with no contacts, no idea where she was going, etc.--aiyee! a sense of adventure that I both admire and am scared by. But anyway, a friend sent me her latest mystery and that's my book for the evening. A nice, cozy Saturday night with a cozy.

Austin--and grandsons

I'm in Austin, in a house with four adults, an almost-four-year-old, a 22 mos.and an 18 mos. Our days are pandemonium--screaming, yelling, squealing, giggling, tears--and the blessed quiet of nap time (quiet time for the oldest one and naptime for the grandmother). The boys play wonderfully well together, aside from pushing, shoving, grabbing,etc. Sawyer, the oldest, seems to delight in pushing Jacob in the swing, and Ford, the youngest, plays quietly and then suddenly belts out "Jacob!" At 6 p.m. they are fussy and hungry; by 7:30 they're hyperactive, fatigue coming out in silliness and screams; by 8 all is quiet and they're in their beds. It's a joy to see them together. And for me, it's a particular joy to get to know Sawyer and Ford better--and have them know me. At first Sawyer hung back,saying he wasn't ready to give me a hug, and Ford stared at Jordan and me curiously as though wondering who these interlopers were that were sitting in his front yard. (The fenced front yard is their playground with more than enough toys.) But then he looked at me and said, "Gaga." (That's the Austin boys name for me, while everyone else calls me Juju.) Then he looked at Jordan and said "Jojo." The ice was broken, and we were off to high good times. We don't get this kind of togetherness when the whole family is together,and while I miss the others, I value this.
In between I sneak up to the office,where I'm sleeping, to deal with emails and read on my Kindle. Megan scolded me for reading when I don't see my grandsons that often. So I'm trying to limit it.
Last night after we'd gone out for Mexican food at a riverfront restaurant, Jordan announced that after the boys were in bed, the parents were going to have an intervention with me. My first thought, of course, was "Hey, I like my white wine but I don't drink that much!" I asked if I had to move out of my house,quit my job, quit drinking. She said no, it was something good. But then when we got to it she began with, "We all love you a whole lot, but you can be controlling." I heard those as damning words, because I try so hard not to be controlling. It turns out though that ever since I turned my b'day celebration over to the kids--at their request--I've been bugging her about this person and that who knows it's my 70th b'day and wants to be included. She told her siblings I was driving her wild, and they decided to tell me so I could enjoy anticipation and she could have a littlel peace and quiet. They were in part feeling sorry that I missed Scotland and wanted to give me something to look forward to. So here I am, sort of controlling my b'day party and very excited about it.
But determined not to feel my age. When I woke up Sunday after my busy day with Maddie I was stiff and sore, I hurt and I was tired. Depression snuck in because I thought maybe I really was getting old. But the next day I was fine--and at the end of the drive to Austin I was less stiff than Jordan.Since I've been here I've done better on balance--even on uneven flagstone--and I've been free of aches and pains (well, mostly) in spite of sleeping on a mattress on the floor. I'm back to thinking it's in large part attitude.
Big on my mind: I need a writing project, and I want to find a way to market my mystery. But I'll think about that tomorrow.