Facebook and obituaries

Guess you can tell from the heading how I spend my first minutes at my desk every morning. I read email and then the newspaper. I would attribute my habit of poring over obituaries to my age--friends and acquaintances show up more often than I like--but I've always read them. I grieve over the children and wonder if the teenagers died natural deaths, were suicides or overdoses (ah, the society we live in). I look at people's ages--those younger make me feel lucky and those older give me hope for a long life yet to come. Sometimes I think it's ghoulish to read the obituaries, as though in the back of the mind lingers the thought, "At least it's not me." And yes, I've rough-drafted my own--when the time comes my children will find it on my computer.
But today I really studied the faces in those pages, and I concluded the photos often give you a clue to the lives the people have lived. Some are joyful, even playful, and you suspect the person lived a good and happy life. But others are plain--no smile, no hint that life was good. Did the family just not choose the right picture or was that how this person lived life? It's like a window into their past, and I hate to make quick judgments. For my part, I leave the photo choice to my children, although one not very flattering photo makes me look very contemplative, like I was a deep thinker. I like that but I think they may choose one of me in western garb looking young and happy. It's sadly out of date but maybe it speaks for my life.
If obituaries are a bit depressing, I find Facebook fun and interesting. I've developed more rapport there with several people I've known for years than I ever had when I saw them frequently. There's a colleague from TCU, now retired and living in Alabama, who reposts all my pictures of dogs in need of forever homes, joins in political discussions, and recounts some of her own adventures. And there's another acquaintance, now semi-retired from Baylor, who reposts those dog pictures, talks about her own dogs, teaching and other matters. Even my best friend from high school--we've kept in touch all these years but FB has brought us closer together and now we also exchange personal emails frequently...and we've had several good in-person visits. There's a man with whom I could not disagree more vehemently about politics and religion, but he reposts my dog pictures and sends me nice, appreciative messages on my non-political posts and wishes me a blessed day. I think I'd like to sit down over lunch with him sometime. And a new friend I picked up because she liked my reply to something the aforementioned gentleman posted. The web of friendship spreads, and I love it.
Sometimes FB is the first place I learn of breaking news--like today the Senate passage of the ENDA bill (wish I knew what that stands for--Employment Non Discrimination Act?). I can't think of other instances but there have been many. I know you have to take posts with a grain of skepticism (and check Snopes), but I still find it a good way to keep current on events and controversies--like the many opinions, facts, and misconceptions about the Affordable Care Act. Things I don't get from our diminished daily newspaper.
I got on FB to keep up with my children but they now post only occasionally. I also thought it was a good way to tell people about my books, and it is. But a friend who posts liberal, feminist messages said she also posts about her grandsons and animals so people will know she's really a nice person. And I guess that's what I want--for people to know me as a person and not someone who is just pushing her books. See you on the 'net.

Late nights on the deck and the hairy puppet

Taken at Elizabeth's going away party

Note Jacob's Phillies shirt, given him by Elizabeth

and the man she's leaving us to be with



Elizabeth and I have developed the habit of meeting on the deck for a glass of wine to end the day. It’s a time for reflection, deep thoughts, silly comments, and whatever. As the time for her move approaches, we find ourselves more often in deep thoughts—a whole new life for her, a big adjustment for me.

But Saturday night Jacob was with us, and we were all downright silly. In packing, Elizabeth had come across a hairy puppet she’d had for years. She gave it to Jacob. At first I thought it was just plain ugly, but that night when she began to make it talk and dance, I was enchanted. So was Jacob, who named it Harry. Sophie thought it was another dog and was less entranced—she went from curious to jealous (she did that last night too with Jordan’s two dogs here—I guess a second dog at my house is not a good idea). Elizabeth is really good at making Harry look and act like a character from Sesame Street, all in pantomime. Harry doesn’t talk.

We sat and laughed and giggled at Harry’s antics and stayed up far too late. Jacob went to bed at eleven-thirty, much to his parents’ dismay the next day. He said he likes to stay here because he gets to stay up so late. Not sure if that’s a gandmother’s privilege or my weakness. He asked if he could still have five minutes TV after he got in bed, and I said yes but when I went to turn it off he was already half asleep.

Jacob slept with Harry that night, but the next day Sophie still wasn’t reconciled to the puppet. If Jacob left it on the bed, she jumped up on the bed to get it. If he carried it around, she jumped at him. I’m glad to say that Harry has gone home to Jacob’s house. Much as I enjoyed his antics, I’d be glad if he didn’t visit too often.

But Harry will be part of Elizabeth’s legacy after a year of living in my garage apartment. She also leaves me a new fridge and a microwave in the apartment…but I’ll talk about her greatest gift tomorrow.

Goodbye, pests!

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

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.

One of those miscellaneous posts

A good friend of mine is in crisis tonight, and it's hit me hard. In fact, sometimes I think she's calmer about it than I am. But I take life changes in those I care about seriously. Maybe it's the mother hen in me, the natural instinct to nurture. If I ever again take one of those personality profiles, I'm sure it will show that I'm a nurturer--from emotional support to feeding people. So tonight I'm doing both, but the pain of people I care about is weighing heavily on me. Then again, that's what you do for friends.
I frittered the day away--took me three hours this morning to run errands that should not have taken that long. Two grocery stores, the post office--okay, that always takes a while and I had to buy mailers and address them, then wait in line. The Dollar Store where I bought some kind of weird Star Wars puzzle for Jacob--it's called a lenticular puzzle. Close as I can figure it looks like a hologram--if you turn the box one way it's one thing, turn it another and the picture changes. Its virtue is that it's a 12x9 puzzle with 100 pieces which means to me that the pieces are bigger. The bargain $1.00 puzzle I bought had 500 teeniny pieces--both Jacob and I were overwhelemed. I think he'll like this better.
We are inundated with statistics, warnings, and advice about mosquitoes and West Nile viirus. Mosquitoes don't seem to bite me much if at all, but they love Jacob, so I keep spray with Deet on hand, much as I hate it. I also have one bit of standing water--an air conditioner drip line or something--that I can't do away with, so I bought some Bti that was harmless to dogs. Put a little bit in the water and now I can't find the rest of the package. So I went to the hardware to get more; they were out and offered an alternative but it said not for drinking water. Didn't want to take a chance. Sometimes it's hard to be a good citizen!
After all that I spent most if not all of the afternoon reading and napping. Tonight I finished No Way to Kill a Lady by Nancy Martin--latest in a series I thoroughly enjoy. But without that to tempt me, perhaps I'll get back to the chili manuscript tomorrow. Though I do have to make potato salad for Monday night and probably will go to church. And my next reading venture will be a contemporary mystery that spins off Jane Austen's work. I've wondered about the various contemporary adaptations of Austen, so I'm glad for a chance to read and review one.
And that's my day. Lazy, comfortable, with a constant twinge of grief...and my ever-present conscience is telling me it wasn't productive. Oh, I did finish one guest blog and send it off. A small whittle-down in my stack of things I must do.

Seeing Texas through Mississippi eyes

Last night in memoir class we talked about the idea that you cannot tell another person's story. You can only tell your perception of it. So I can't tell you for sure how my houseguests reacted to the mini-Texas tour today--but from my point of view, it was a great success and they enjoyed it thoroughly. We first drove to Granbury, where they admired the picturesque courthouse, newly cleaned up and now glistening, and the charming buildings around the square. My eyes have seen the Granbury square many more times than I can count, but I thought it looked lively, a bit more spruced up today. We browsed for quite a while in The Panhandle, my favorite cooking store--and I did a little Christmas shopping. Then on to my friend Linda's store, Almost Heaven. Actually Linda met us at The Panhandle and gave a walking tour as we ambled along the block and a half to her store. Linda's store is a delight with beatiful and clever decorative pieces, mounted sayings--Barbara bought one that said, "Grace is not something we say before meals. It's a way of life"--purses, throws, all sorts of things, but all tasteful.  Linda has a terrific flair for display these things in an eye-catching way.
Then it was on to the old house that Linda and Rodger have redone with the same flair they show in the store--it's a delightful residence. Dee Gormley, who ran a knockout bookstore and put on wonderful literary events for years, joined us for lunch--chicken tortilla soup, salad, cole slaw and pumpking cheesecake. Wonderful company, wonderful food. The ladies came away thinking I have really great friends--which is true.
We went on to Tolar and Musick Road and my brother's ranch. He practically met us at the door with wine glasses in hand.We visited for a bit and then John and Cindy gave us the deluxe tour of the ranch--it is so dry and the stock tanks down, but they still have pastures of little bluestem, now dry and straw-colored, and something I  think he called King bluestem, which lies close to the ground. Both will make excellent forage for the cattle in the winter. John loves to explain the geography and ecology of his land--how they brought the pastures back, the view of the Brazos River valley, the menace of feral hogs--and Barbara and Pam asked intelligent questions, plus Pam took some incredibly good pictures of the cattle feeding. My idea of their story is that this was a day unlike any other they'd ever spent, and they enjoyed it. Pam has traveled extensively to Europe and places in the U.S., Barbara has traveled but not quite so extensively. Still I think this was a new and totally different day for them. And I always enjoy riding around the ranch--the land is beautiful, and today was a perfect day. Back at the house, I rushed us off to Fort Worth fairly quickly, worried about my puppy who had been in her crate all day. She seems none the worse for it.
We went to the Old Neighborhood Grill for supper with Jordan, Christian and Jacob. Barbara knew about the Grill from reading Skeleton in a Dead Space and hearing about my two signings there, so she was delighted to visit it.  And everyone seemed to enjoy dinner.
My house is quiet again--dogs asleep, guests gone to the apartment. But as they left Pam said to me, "Wonderful family, wonderful friends." Yep, that's how I feel about it too--I am blessed with family and friends. And it's fun to share my little corner of Texas with others, particularly with someone who like me grew up in Chicago's South Side. John felt that too, and at one point said, "It's not the South Side of Chicago." Other times he referred to growing up in the city, as we all did, and once said you couldn't see weather coming in the city but out there, you can.
Yes, Barbara and John, we've come a long and good way from Chicago's Hyde Park.

The importance of keeping up friendships

I've known Connie Jenkins since 1965 when my then-husband moved us to Fort Worth so he could do a surgical residency. Russ Jenkins was just finishing that residency and would later be Joel's senior partner in a surgical practice. Fort Worth Osteopathic Hospital was fairly small at the time, and staff and residents socialized a lot. I don't remember much about those early days, except that Joel tried to turn me against Russ and Connie--he didn't much like being supervised and of couse Russ supervised him.
But after Joel left me, with four young children to raise, Russ and Connie became sort of my protectors. I saw them occasionally, though I wasn't included in many osteopathic events. Over the years that changed, and I counted on them to take me so I wouldn't have to go to dinners, etc., alone. We hit all the big events--weddings, anniversaries, banquets, etc. I remember Russ once, at a dinner, coming up behind me (we were seated at different tables). I had finished but everyone else was still eating. "The trouble with you," he rumbled, "is that you ate with Joel Alter too much."
After she retired, Connie, a general practice physician, would call me and we'd meet for lunch. Then Russ began to join us occasionally, and once in a while my 40-year-friend from Granbury, Linda, would meet us. Russ and Connie had known Linda since the day she was born. I once said to Connie that I always had the feeling Russ was looking out for me, and she said, "He was. He didn't think you'd been treated right."
Although I didn't ask Russ to do Colin's hernia surgery--something I regret to this day and attribute to Joel's influence on me--he was enormously supportive as we dealt with Colin's many stomach ailments and finally came up with a diagnosis of Crohn's disease. Russ was still looking out for me.
The last time I saw him, he was in a wheelchair--it was at my 70th birthday party, and he was hearty and jovial. I remember my kids clustering around him and giving him hugs. Russ died, maybe two years ago, after they had moved to a retirement community in a suburb to the north--too far for me to go easily. But I was at the funeral and kept in touch with Connie by phone.
Today, Linda and I went to Connie's retirement home for lunch. We three had a spirited conversation, increased I suppose by the wine Connie served us in her apartment--at 11:00 a.m., a little early for me. But we had a good visit, joined briefly by Connie's daughter-in-law. We talked of our kids and grandkids, of people we'd known, and all sorts of things. Then we had a marvelous meal in the dining room--as Connie's guests. Far more than I usually eat for lunch but really delicious--and more visiting and laughing.
Linda and I left, amid promises to return soon. The day was wonderfully pleasant, and it made me reflect on the importance of maintaining connections with people. Too many times, friendship seems like work, and we put off calling, writing, that lunch, whatever. Connie was the one at first who persisted and maintained our friendship, and I will always be grateful for that. She's a tough, strong lady, and I'm honored to call her my friend. She's also a hero of mine--for her career, her dedication to her children and grandchildren, her always upbeat attitude in the face of diversity.
I'll go to bed with happy thoughts tonight.
And Linda? She's another story of a good friendship maintained over the years--for another time.

A mind-boggling day

This has been a day when three big--and I mean big--things demanded my attention, and my mind is reeling tonight. This morning about 8, Jeannie called in hysterics--I couldn't get much out of her except that her husband was in surgery and she was at the hospital just down the street from me. I ran to the hospital which, like most hospitals today, is a conglomeration of buildings added on then and now and the most confusing place I've ever been. Trying to find Jeannie involved a comedy of errors including opening what I thought was a second-floor door only to almost walk out on space and a construction site. I finally found her, pacing the hall. Jim was in surgery for a ruptured aortic aneurysm, and the surgeon told her it didn't look good. When we went into the waiting room, she introduced me to her daugher-in-law as the friend she WAS going to Scotland with--of course, the trip is off! I stayed for an hour, but Jeannie had family around her--and I had things to do. Tonight I'm pleased to report that Jim is in ICU although he doesn't look like himself at all--Jeannie says she's never seen so many tubes. But he's apparently holding his own after a long and traumatic surgery--and a brief return to surgery.
Sunday TCU Press is giving "Books & Music in the Garden," an event I hope will be memorable. The garden is an acre-and-a-half that belongs to a member of our advisory board and was on the Nature Conservancy Tour in 2006. We'll serve wine and lemonade, chip and dip, cheese, and cookies, and people can wander in the garden, talk with the authors, etc. BUT Jeannie was catering the event--which now means I'm catering it, which is a scary thought. I went shopping today and sort of blindly bought all the food. Wine was easy, because the liquor store guides you but food was a pure guess on my part. We'll see on Sunday.
And, meantime, there's Scotland. There trip we planned for months is indefinitely postponed. We agreed this morning that we'll go--just not right now. But it requires a lot of re-thinking. Suddenly my calendar is bare for two weeks, when I thought I'd be gone. The guest bed is piled high with things to be packed for a trip that now won't be. There are people to notify, tickets to cancel, reservations to change--I've waded into it and done pretty well, but it's daunting. And the most daunting is that it requires a major major change in thinking.
I keep thinking to myself, "You're not going to Scotland. You can relax and fritter away the time." Wrong! I have those 150 people on Sunday to worry about. So before I begin to put away all that stuff on the guest bed, I have to get out serving pieces. Jeannie knew in her head what she was going to use where--but I don't have any such sure knowledge.
I have good support--a good friend and a TCU Press author went shopping with me today, another friend and member of our advisory council is helping with serving dishes and going with me to greet the rental table people tomorrow. We'll all muddle through this, Jim will get well, and Jeannie and I will go to Scotland later. But it sure is mind-boggling tonight--and I'm tired.