Patrizio's, work, and gardens

For years, Patrizio's at Highland Park Village was my favorite restaurant in Dallas, and I ate there every chance I got. I loved their appetizers, Megan loved the bellinis, and Jamie, the crab claws. Now, Patrizio's has come to Fort Worth. Betty and I ate there tonight and considered it a winner. She had a penne pasta dish, and I had a chopped salad, both excellent. Service was good and so fast it almost made my head spin, atmosphere good. I couldn't talk Betty into dessert, so I had to forego the double chocolate mousse, which would, of course, have required a second glass of wine. I'm not forgetting it for next time, and we've already settled on our menu next time--splitting crab cakes and the hearts of palm salad. The restaurant is one of several in a new very sophisticated high-rise develoment area that includes lots of condos, gyms, a movie theater, etc. The only drawback is that parking is really really difficult. We never could locate the valet parking for Patrizio's, though last week we used the valet service at Bailey's. We decided tonight was one of our better adventures--and the prices are reasonable.
I worked today, though this morning I ran errands--to the office to drop off a manuscript, to Coldwater Creek to check out the 70% off sale (nothing grabbed my attention, and I doubt it was all 70% off), and then to Albertson's for groceries. But after lunch I wrote about 770 words on my novel (now that's become my daily standard--I had an older colleague who said a page a day is a book a year, but I figure I'm outdoing that--and some days I get in more words as I may tonight but then other days I get none written, so it's probably a wash).
Tonight I had my usual evening stint of reading on the porch with a glass of wine and glorying in all the greenery. Boy, do I have a list for Greg tomorrow--I discovered that a fern-like plant in the planter box is overshadowing a struggling oregano plant (and I don't think the fern is edible--Greg know what it is, but I think it needs trimming). My fig tree has more figs than you can imagine, some of them enormous. I watch them carefully because I want to get to them before the birds and squirrels do, but they're just not quite ripe yet. Greg is supposed to put down grass in the way back part of the back yard, where it had all died, and I need to call his attention to the weeds and sprouting trees in the narrow space between my house and my neighbors. It seems every time I go out in the yard, I find something else that needs attention.

Retirement the way it ought to be

My pictures didn't come out quite as I intended--the plumbago in the second one doesn't show off its glorious blue color, and in the third the coneflowers that are thick in the front yard don't really show unless you look in the foreground. But the whole garden and porch are so pretty that I just delight in them. Tonight I sat out on the porch--there was a slight breeze, for a change--read a book, and thought a bit smugly how good my life is. (I hope it's not a case where smug goes before a fall!)

This morning it was 10:45 before I was dressed and ready for the day--I am learning to putter. I read my emails, read the newspaper online (how I hate that!), did my yoga, straightened the house a bit, and showered--and there went the morning. More emails, and it was time for lunch with an old friend.

After a good visit over a delicious lunch--I had lox and cream cheese, and he had smoked trout and cream cheese--as I was gettingout of the car, he said, "You're doing everything I hope to do in retirement." And a friend from Omaha emailed me to say she thought I was handling retirement with grace. I do hope so.

This afternoon I actually did some work on the proposal for a nonfiction book that I am trying to put together and ran into that bugaboo for which I'm always on to authors--inadequate documentation. I can't believe I cut out newspaper clippings without the date and page # attached, but I did. All I know is they were published in 2008 in the local paper. A hunt will ensue.

Last night, it seemed hot in the house, and I discovered that though the a/c was laboring, it was almost 80, when I had the thermostat set at 73. My a/c guru told me to turn off the a/c and turn on the fan--the unit had frozen (the filter was wet on one side). It worked, but someone from the company came to check it all out late this afternoon, and all is well, though his ominous words were "It will probably make it through the summer." It was nice tonight to hear the unit kick off--which it hadn't done for over 24 hours. My mind runs to the electric bill.

Betty and I had an adventure tonight--we went exploring in a new upscale condo/restaurant/you name it district. We had eaten at a Mediterranean restaurant there that we didn't really like, so tonight we ate at Bailey's Prime Rib--I had misgivings because it sounded pricey and like heavy food. My misgivings grew when we got inside--most elegant, one of those places with with menus that are as heavy as most books. I whispered that we might have to eat pbj sandwiches for the rest of the month, but we split a fried avocado stuffed with a lobster mixture and each had a small salad, plus a glass of wine. With tip, it was under $30 apiece, though I always feel that people in such places are looking askance at us, as though we've wandered out of our proper milieu. Only when we got up to leave did I realize that Betty was wearing jeans! It was fun, the food was good, but we won't go back. I prefer a more casual atmosphere.

Yesterday I spent the whole day reading The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo--I had read a lot about it some time ago when it received high critical praise, so I bought it for Megan for Christmas 2008. She took a long time before she got around to reading it, so I thought it was a bust as a gift, but when she finally got to it, she absolutely loved it. I asked her to bring it when she came up a couple of weeks ago, and I too loved it, couldn't put it down. It's suspense, intrigue, with a couple of gory scenes, but it's so well done, so well written--and the characters are amazing. Because I read the book trade publications, I keep thinking everyone knows the story but apparently not. Swedish author and magazine editor Stieg Larsson turned in three novel manuscripts and then died of a massive heart attack at a young age and before the novels were published. I am now reading The Girl Who Played with Fire, the second one. I can't remember the exact title of the third (The Girl Who . . . Hornet's Nest). The first is definitely set in Sweden, and I imagine the others are too though the second opens in the Caribbean. After publication in Swedish, they were translated into English. I recommend them heartily. You get lost in the fictional world (the best kind of reading), but it's also a little like reading To Kill a Mockingbird or The Angle of Repose. I know I'll never write anything that good--but I can read and enjoy.

Diet Gone awry and other sundry problems

Today I had a wonderful lunch at Nonna Tata--a salad with corn kernels in it and just a bit of balsamic vinaigrette and braseola (the Italian beef version of proscuitto) dressed with lemon and olive oil and thin shavings of grana cheese. It was sided with a vinegary potato salad that I reallly like--so there went points for the diet. Tonight I had leftover filet of sole in a half sandwich with tomato and onion and then went back to finish off the bit of sole that wouldn't fit in the sandwich. And then, by gosh, I decided I was tired of being hungry and ate a piece of chocolate, thereby blowing my points for the day all to smithereens. I suppose it happens to everyone who diets, but I can't help equaiting my mid-day extreme anxiety to the diet, and I'm beginning to wonder if it's wise, notwithstanding the 5 lbs. I've lost.
This morning when I drove up to work, Sandy, one of the two insurance consortium peole who office in our suite, came out to give me a hand in--so thoughtful of her. And once she helped me up the step I walked confidently into the office. She'll never know how much I appreciate the gesture. But when I left for lunch, I went out the other door where the only "open space" is perhaps three feet from a stone wall to a railing--froze, couldn't do it, finally did. Struggled along the fence and then, with difficulty, down the step. Once on the ground, by cars and railing, I was just fine. Jean sat in her car and watched all this, then drove up behind my car--maybe four feet from it. I tried, couldn't walk that four feet, asked her to come get me, and she shook her head--"You can do it." Finally, she back up, drove closer, and of course I walked easily up to the car. It makes no sense, but I am very tired of it. The trouble going in and out of the office is clearly a sign, and the best I can do is laugh about it. Yes, Marcia, I ate a banana at 10:30--no nuts though.
A bright note: the man who has been doing my lawn told me he's going out of the lawn business. I am only partly sorry--I was paying him a lot of money, and he didn't do flower beds, didn't understand flowers, etc. Jay suggested that one of our neighbors (who has a beautiful back yard) does yard work, and so Greg came by tonight. I'm delighted. He told me what he'd do, what he charges (very resonable), and we agreed on native plants, etc. He has apparently watched my front yard as he walked his dog over the years and admird most aspects of it but knew what needed to be cut back, weeded out, etc. He's coming Friday, which couldn't be better because Jordan is bringing 22 women over for a book-signing late Friday afternoon.
Think I"ll go sit on the porch and read--and maybe blow the diet more with an extra glass of wine--and then I'll come in and work. I'm at a difficult part in my novel--but oh so near the end of the first draft. Much more work to be done.

Long silence and busy week

I haven't posted for the last few days because, frankly, I've been busy. I've even been so busy my exercise program has fallen apart for a few days. It's one of those weeks when work gets in the way of what I really want to do. I find myself at 9 p.m. reading and critiquing proposals, writing news releases, etc., when I really want to write my mystery. The good part of busy is that Betty came for supper Tuesday (leftover chicken and rosemary roasted potatoes, along with a good salad), Jacob and his parents came last night (poor boy sandwiches), Jacob and his mother and a friend are coming tonight for grilled salmon and salad, and Jacob is spending the night tomorrow night. He's so used to staying here that last night he asked his mom, "What time Mommy go home?" She explained she was staying and when she went home he would go with her. He was sort of grumpy and tired last night, but when I asked for a hug as he left, he gave me one and then raised his little face and said "Want a kiss." Be still, my heart.
My really big news is that Lewis Bundock, the contractor who keeps improving my house for me, has installed plantation blinds throughout the house (except the playroom where there are way too many windows) and half-plantation shutters (they only go halfway up the windows) across the front of the house--living room and my office. It looks so awesome that yesterday when I came in I just stood and admired them, until I almost let the alarm go off. The new window treatments update the house a great deal--after all, I've lived her 15-16 years, and it was time. And I was tired of either washing the curtains or ignoring the fact that they were dirty. Also, the house, which has good natural light, is so much more open now, and yet I can close the blinds in my bedroom pretty tightly against the morning sun. I don't know why I always buy houses with the bedrooms on the east but I do.
Today Melinda and I toured the garden where TCU Press will hold its 2nd annual "Books & Music in the Garden" event--and it was lovely. Lots of nooks, crannies, hidden corners, a huge swimming pool, a guest house with bathrooms for those who need them and a kitchen out of which we can work, lots of seating. It was beautiful even today in late February, so I can just imagine what it will look like in mid-April. And the owner who is graciously hosting the party was charming and accommodating--she kept acting like we were doing her a favor, when we were overwhelmed at our good fortune at her willingness to let us use the garden. The house, sort of a Tudor style, was built in 1929 by the present owner's grandfather. It's of clinker brick, which she explained was used a lot during the Depression--it's imperfect brick and there were tons and tons of it available because it was regarded as inferior. This was one of the first houses in Fort Worth built of clinker brick. She also explained the various gardens, showed us the old chicken house (city laws about keeping animals were once very different), and it was a fascinating tour. The only flaw was that my situational anxiety (I've decided that's a good term for it) came flying to the foreground, and I found myself clinging to Melinda, although she dismissed it saying it was really uneven ground and paths, etc. But I hate it when I have those spells and feel so uncertain. Yet by the time I met a friend for lunch I was perfectly fine.
Meantime, I'm working. I really am. I managed to write about three pages last night and hope to do that again tonight. Tomorrow's our Amazing Book Sale--we sell damaged books for $1 and $2, and everything on our shelves is 20% off.