Busy days

Do you ever get so busy you feel like you're chasing your tail? That's been me this week, waking early and feeling the pressure of getting this, that, and the other done. So that explains no posts for the last couple of nights--nothing interesting to write about while I chase my tail.
I tell myself that all will get done in good time, to slow down and relax, and I think I'm doing that on some levels--but there's a part of my subconscious that hasn't learned to let go of my lifetime habit of being compulsive about deadlines (many of which I set myself).
Today, I told myself I would have a long spell to work on the novel I'm editing, but you know what? It didn't work. I didn't spend that much time on it. I fixed supper for company in the morning (a cold supper that would keep), I cleared up odds and ends in email, and I read Facebook. And this afternoon, I took a long nap--I mean really long. Think I needed the rest. Woke up when Jordan came to get Jacob, saw them off, and promptly decided to crawl back in bed for another forty-five minutes.
But tonight good friends I haven't seen for a while came, and I served my first "company" supper on the deck--an amazing sandwich made out of one round loaf of parmesan bread, a pasta salad, an appetizer of cheese, curry and chutney, and frozen Black Forest cake for dessert. We sat on the porch, laughed and joked about times past and times present. They are a delightful couple--I've known Linda probably for more than thirty years, and Rodger, her second husband, ever since she married him--can't remember how long ago\. They are comfortable, though always bantering with each other. Sometimes I side with one, sometimes with the other. But it was fun and relaxing to sit outside with them on a pleasant evening.
Watch Potluck with Judy tomorrow for the recipes for my menu.
And will tomorrow be any better? I doubt it. Church in the morning, Jordan and Jacob for a lunch of leftovers, a nap in the afternoon, an early casual supper with Elizabeth. But somehow the work will get done. It always does, and as Linda said tonight, "You put out an amazing amount of work." Somehow I'm not sure how I do that.

One of those days

1. Life is all about a new toy--and joy!

It's one of those days--that's all I can think of to write about. Nice morning at my desk, catching up with things; even nicer lunch with my former boss, dean of the libraries June Koelker--no agenda, just plain catching up and being friends. I really appreciated and enjoyed that.

Dinner with close old friends Carol and Kathie--Kathie just lost her father last week and is busy planning ceremony, taking care of details, all that. We talked and talked, but we also managed a few laughs. I am blessed to have such longtime good friends--we're there for each other when needed, and I think relaxing with friends was a good break for Kathie. Hope so.

But I end the day with no profound thoughts, nothing special to share. Feel like I should have some great wisdom, but I don't. Got to finish the mystery I'm reading, because I have promised myself I won't start another but will turn my attention to my own mystery that I need to revise.

So goes the world. Some days are just so-so.

And that 1. at the top? It appeared, and I don't know how to get rid of it. Forgive me. Too lazy to risk losing everything just to deal with that silly number.

The Seasoned (?) Traveler

Home tonight after two-and-a-half days in El Paso. A seasoned traveler, I'm not. Got the DFW only to discover that my drivers license and debit card were in my blue jeans at home. They settled for a TCU i.d. card, a cedit card, and a health insurance card. Same thing today at the El Paso airport only it was worse--singled out for a mild pat-down because of the metal zipper on my jacket--forgot to take the jacket off and they have the full body scan, which DFW doesn't have yet. Then they announced they'd have to check my luggage--never did find out why, but a polite man rummaged through my small carry-on, passed some kind of cloth-covered wand over all of it, and then said he'd have to re-scan my bag plus two individual items--my metal collapsible walking stick, which I had collapsed and put in the bag and the jar of ceramic bits that are supposed to dry out my hearing aids at night. I had to explain to him what that was. Doesn't anyone else take those things when they travel, of all the hearing challenged people in our world? Finally he asked if I'd like help repacking, and I was tempted to say, "No, you've done a good job of jamming it all back in there," but he was really so polite and so courteous when he wished me a good flight and a good day, that I simply thanked him. And went and had a glass of wine at the airport cafe.
If I'm not a seasoned traveler, I'm not an easy one either. I feel like the little old lady who when taken for her first plane ride and then asked how she liked it said it was fine but she never put her full weight down. I never put my full weight down when I'm away from home. I used to be much more nervous about flying than I am now and I still don't like to fly alone, but I'm pretty much okay on a plane--with some wine. But when the friend in front of me said if the plane crashed, there'd be a whole lot of history teaching jobs in North Texas, I told him it wasn't funny (we had been to the Texas State Historical Society meeting). And in the cafe another history prof managed to tell me that one of the survivors of the Titanic had been inebriated, and he always took that into consideration.
I went to the TSHA meeting to deliver a paper, another thing--not that I'm not good at it (everyone says I am and several people went directly to the exhibits to buy my books where, of course, they weren't available but could be ordered!). But it makes me nervous. Once again though the relaxation of retirement came through, and I really felt better about this paper--very non-scholarly in a highly scholarly atmosphere. At first I said I'd write the paper and someone else could read it  since I wouldn't be in El Paso, but good friend Carol Roark persuaded me to go with her and share a room, and she was a saint about letting me hold on when I lost my balance (which is often in a strange city). I also went because I would see lots of old friends--and I did, including people who said kind words about my work at TCU Press and particularly a historical biographical series that I had helped get started. Mostly though I visited with people near and dear to me, so it ws a good time.
But I'm glad to be home and catching up. I had looked forward to seeing my dog and cat, eating a pimiento sandwich, and settling at my desk, all of which I've done. The animals were ravenous, but I know they were fed this morning.
Tomorrow: adventures in El Paso, because I mostly travel on my stomach, and outside the meetings, our adventures almost all involved food, some good, some not so good.

Three Ladies of Publishing

Fran Vick is the retired founding director of the University of North Texas Press. Gayla Christiansen is the still-working-overtime sales manager and director of rights and permissioins at Texas A&M University Press. And I am the retired director of TCU Press. We call ourselves the Three Ladies of Publishing, and we periodically hold summit meetings, usually at my house where I am expected to provide a gourmet meal--and joyfully do so. Since today the semi-annual sales meeting for the A&M consortium was held at TCU, we were all in Fort Worth, so tonight we had a summit meeting. Part publishing discussion, a bit of gossip, a lot of catching up on families and friends, and a lot of laughter and sharing.
I think my gourmet meal satisfied. When the ladies hit the door about 4 p.m. and asked for wine, I gave them an amuse bouche of tiny rolls filled with anchovy butter. Then they gathered in the kitchen to watch me cook, and I gave them an appetizer of finger sandwiches--cocktail rye topped with cream cheese and diill, smoked trout, a dab of sour cream, and a couple of capers. Dinner was a roulade, with layers of pork, chicken, and prosciutto interspersed with a sauce of olive oil, basil, anchovies, garlic and parsley, and served with a sauce of cream and chicken broth and bacon. Plus asparagus and a salad of beets and orange slices with vinaigrette and feta. No dessert. We sat around the fire and talked far later than I'm used to, and I'm writing this late at night.
We were wondering tonight when we first started these summit meetings and decided it was quite a few years ago. For my 70th birthday, they gave me a proclamation, now framed in my office, that reads "Leader and Chef of the Front Porch Wine Drinking World Problem Solving Three Ladies in Publishing."
Reminds me of last night's post on the value of friendship, but once again it is so true. It is really a delight for me to cook for these two, and I try to outdo myself each time. I have to uphold my reputation. And it's wonderful to sit around and share publishing news and personal news with a sense that these are two women that really care about me and I care a lot about them. Another blessing in my life.

Root canal--and good friends

Today was the root canal that I so dreaded. It wasn't as bad as I thought, because I was determined to relax, lie still and cooperate--the better to get it over with. In retrospect, it seems a lot worse. Jean had used the word tedioius and the dentist said it today, which made me giggle--but it did seem to go on forever. Betty took me to the dentist's office and walked me almost to the door, by which time I was fine on my own. Dr. Ku is gentle, kind and compassionate--and, I'm convinced, a good, conscientious doctor. The procedure took almost two and a half hours, and when I walked out to the office, I was unsteady on my feet--he obviously worried about me and held on to my arm. Jean was there, waiting for me, so I settled up, got an appointment for next week to have a crown put in, and we left. But I was really shaky, and Jean said as I held on to her across the parking lot that she could feel me shake. We stopped to get our flowers of the month--I let her go in--and then to pick up a prescription that wasn't ready. Bless her--she took me home and delivered the prescription later in the afternoon, leaving it in the mailbox because I was trying to nap. Couldn't sleep--my mouth hurt, my head hurt, etc. Finally I took aspirin (which Dr. Ku told me not to do, but it was all I had). Betty called about then, and the next thing she appeared at my door with a bottle of Tylenol. The aspirin worked, and I began to feel much better, so by the time my class arrived I was in pretty good shape, though I had asked Elizabeth to lead the class tonight. Tylenol and more antibiotics and I'm a walking chemistry project, though feeling tired but pretty good. Mostly I'm feeling blessed by good friends--Betty and Jean who both took such good care of me today, Elizabeth who took care of me tonight.
Tomorrow is another day and, I hope, a brighter one. I sure have a lot to do. But as Jean so helpfully pointed out to me, a hundred years ago people died from abscessed tooths (teeth?). So that's another thing to be grateful for. This has just been the week I want to put behind me.

Front porches

Until the mid- or late-twentieth century, people sat on their front porches. Neighbors visited, they howdied the people who walked by with strollers and dogs, and it was all very friendly. Then came the era of the patios and six-foot privacy fences. People moved into their back yards, cut off from the neighbors. And it's hard to be neighborly over a six-foot fence. As people who read this blog know, my 1922 house has a commodious front porch, and this year I've worked hard at making it green and lush with herbs, hanging baskets, a prolific plumbago, sweet potato vines, and impatiens. It's a lovely place to sit in the evening and watch the world go by. My writing class prefers to meet on the porch, even when it's a bit hot, and I often sit out there at night reading.
Tonight my porch was host to what porches were meant for--a gathering of neighbors.  Sue, my former neighbor, came back for a visit, and the rest of us gathered--Jay and Susan, Greg and Jaimie, Jordan, Christian and Jacob. It was BYOB, pot luck--and we had great food--I made bourbon hot dogs (some of which got scorched and had to be thrown out because I blithely walked away and left them to simmer, got involved at my desk, and didn't stir them--when will I learn about electric stoves, which I hate?; as punishment, I had one heck of a time cleaning that pan). But I also offered a cheeseball, toasted baguettes, and brownies left from last night's class; Jay brought hummus and pita pieces, Jaimie contributed a black-eyed pea salsa, and Sue brought a dish I never did get to taste, so I can't tell what it was. We gathered around the table, eating standing up for a while, until I convinced Jaimie that she and I should lead the way to the porch. Everyone followed. Jacob is sometimes shy in the company of adults, but these were people he knew and he was charming and outgoing.
We visited, we argued (discussed?) politics, we talked about food and the weather and the BP oil disaster and upcoming summer birthdays and what have you, but it was relaxed, fun, and really not too hot. Most of all it was pleasant to know that I was among good friends, that we all care a lot about each other.
The rest of the day was good too--got my new keyboard, though I haven't yet worked up the gumption to install it. Went to lunch with my old and dear friend, Jim, and we had a good time, though we joined someone we met at the restaurant, so as Jim said, we didn't get to tell secrets. Still it was good to catch up with him. And this afternoon I worked on updating my web page--not a lot to update, but I like to change the recipe page and wish I did it more often. I'll post when the changes are up and, big deal, I changed one sentence on the home page--but it's now accurate to say I have two mysteries with an agent and am about a third into a new one different characters, etc.
So, as I often end posts, life is good.