The elves in my house aren't always on the shelves

There's an elf floating around my house. He's not your standard Elf on the Shelf in red. Rather, he's a clown who looks like he might do mime. Dinglebell--that's his name--belonged to Elizabeth the year she lived in my garage apt. and I guess when she came to visit at Thanksgiving he flew back hidden in her suitcase. Anyway, he appeared right on target Dec. 1 and has been flitting around at night to odd places in the house. The first thought on Jacob's mind every morning is to find his elf--if he's at home, he looks for Jack, his Elf on the Shelf; at my house he looks for Dinglebell. On his way to school from home he has to find Dinglebell at my house. This morning when I woke him for school and asked what he wanted for breakfast, he said, "I'm not telling you until I find Dinglebell." This took a while. (Note to Dinglebell: please don't hide in such obscure places.)
The other elf in my house is my adorable eight-year-old Jacob. I have to say Dinglebell is a lot easier to deal with sometimes. But Jacob is staying from Tuesday till Friday after school when he'll go to his other grandparents (I get the school and homework duty but then they'll take him to football, and I'm mightily glad to be relieved of that). I woke at three this morning, worrying about getting him out the door to school on time--a worry he doesn't seem to share.

(Jacob can be a bit of a ham)

So far all is pretty smooth. Last night he played with a friend, then they both came here where I cracked the whip about homework and then took them to the Grill. Tonight Betty and I took Jacob to Lucile's for Lobsterama--he tasted a tiny bit of lobster and declared he was ordering it next time but no thank you, he didn't want another bite. He liked his six-inch cheese pizza. I had lobster pot pie which was delicious but didn't really give me my lobster fix. I'm going back for lunch Friday and will probably have the lobster BLT.
I enjoy having Jacob here--though I lose patience at times. This afternoon he did not want to do his math--it was too hard, he'd do it tomorrow, it wasn't fair, it was stupid (I cautioned against using that word again). I explained if it was that hard, he might not finish it in one day and should start today. When he got into it--with my help--he enjoyed it. Same thing with a shower--begged and pled to put it off until tomorrow, told me no one at school would smell his hair (I did). Once he got into the shower, I thought I'd never get him out. He uses the hand-held shower head to spray water all over his body until I call enough.
Lessons learned: tonight I'm discussing breakfast choices before he goes to bed. And if he wallops me in the eye with his elbow again, all bets are off. Meantime I wonder where Dinglebell will end up tonight. Big sigh.

Weird day

A weird day in which I accomplished almost nothing. Jacob has started private swim lessons--by the time I get him from the summer program he attends, get to the pool, wait half an hour (where could I go in that time?), and return him to Clayton Yes! it takes a little over an hour right out of the middle of my morning, including my usual yoga time. This morning I took my iPad, intending to read in the car, which turned out not to be comfortable. So I sat at a table under some wonderful big trees--shady with a nice breeze. But the trees reflect in the iPad and make reading difficult--whine, whine, whine. I did listen to the instructor's talk with Jacob and heard splashes that indicated he was going off the diving board. At the end of his lesson, he demonstrated--he sits on the end of the board and she gives him a gentle shove--but he goes like a trooper. On the way back he asked why he couldn't just come home with me, and I explained his mom wants him to go to the Clayton Yes program. At my house, he'd just sit and watch TV. Tomorrow he'll do that because the Clayton Yes folks are going swimming at 12:15.
I'm loving my free afternoons, though I do miss him. But late, long naps are great, and I do get some work done after lunch--today it was neighborhood newsletter stuff, but I got a start on the July issue. Slept hard and found myself wandering around the grocery at 5:30, still a bit dazed. I never go to the grocery at 5:30--I watch the news. But I was obsessed with getting the ingredients for the potato salad I have to make for the multitudes Friday night for Jacob's birthday. Now I'm obsessed to get a brass stand from the shop where they polished it--think I can do that before I get Jacob tomorrow if I get up early enough. Wish I'd stop setting these deadlines for myself but I hate loose end! Being compulsive is not always easy; neither is breaking your established routine.
I'll probably adjust to this swimming schedule eventually...and then the week of lessons will be over. Oh me oh my.

What could be nicer?

I came home tonight from a lovely dinner to find a message on my voice mail. When I listened to it, a seven-year-old voice said all in one breath, "Goodbye. I love you." I laughed, because when last seen I was dropping him off at baseball practice. He had insisted I put the top down on the car--I think so he could make a showy arrival, climbing out of the car instead of opening the door. When I jokingly said, "I don't suppose you're going to give me a kiss," he gave me the most disgusted look I've ever seen from this normally sweet child. I know, in front of the coach and the other boys! Never! So I guess this was a bit of a way of making amends.
I had just come home from a wonderful dinner with good friends. Sue lived next door to me for six or eight years and we became close friends. Her parents live in Ottawa, Canada, so she calls me her Fort Worth mother (the age difference is about right). Tonight her parents and her boyfriend, whom I adore, were in town, and they invited me to join them at Sera, a relatively new place near my house. We had a joyful evening, and the food was great--I had Arroz something--with roasted tomatoes, greens, a couple of pieces of artichoke and wonderful sautéed scallops. So good. We had Littleneck clams for an appetizer. Now I consider myself a fairly sophisticated eater--didn't I have tartare last night?--but I've never had clams. I wasn't blown away by them. But we had an olive oil cake (much better than it sounds) and a chocolate/orange something that was wonderful. Nothing better than a great meal with good friends.
I am eternally grateful for the life I lead. Of course there was one blip on the day's screen. Jacob was to go home with a friend after school today, and I was peacefully napping when a neighbor called from the school and asked if I knew that Jacob and his friend were in the principal's office. No one had picked them up, but they had called the other boy's grandmother and she was on her way. So I waited a bit and called, and, yes, she had the boys. When I went to pick Jacob up, I told the grandfather, a friend and neighbor, that I'd forgotten the books I laid out for his wife. "That's okay," he said, "I forgot to pick up the kids." We all have days like that.
Feels like spring, redbuds are blooming, and I think--not sure--I saw a dogwood in bloom today. Maybe this time spring is really arriving, even if a little late. I think today was the first day I had the top down on the car.
Life is good, and I feel blessed with friends and family.

Not my finest hour

Tonight was not my finest hour. I expected to take Jacob for grilled cheese at the Grill at six--or possibly six-thirty. It was seven-thirty by the time we got there--I was hungry, cranky, and frustrated. I had a lot to do that I would have started on except I kept thinking the child would arrive any minute. This morning, he was cranky because I said a friend of mine might go with us--no one, he said, would talk to him. Well, the friend didn't go, he and I ate in total silence while he played with his phone--which he'd been told earlier not to do. To top it all off, he wanted his usual sandwich and fries--but it turned out he wasn't really hungry because he'd just had pizza. Definitely not my finest hour. Came home to fix things for a salad supper tomorrow night, and the mangos are still hard as rocks! Oh, well, I'll think about that tomorrow.
I did have a fine evening last night. Went to hear Texas author Tom Zigal talk to TCU's Bookish Frogs group. His new book is Many Rivers to Cross, a novel set in the three days following Katrina. It's about an African-American man who travels to New Orleans (when everyone else is going the other way) to rescue his daughter and her two small children. Zigal said he had the plot in his head before he realized that it had to be an Black man because Katrina was particularly an African-American tragedy. The section he read--first chapter--was powerful, and I'm looking forward to reading the book.
Otherwise my lazy weekend has turned out not to be so lazy. Jacob and I had fun at the grocery, mostly because I bought him a spooky hand with a bag attached to collect treats. Other than that, I spent today running down facts and spellings, adding a bit to my novel because I had an "Aha!" moment in the night, and, tonight, getting ready to serve breakfast to four adults and one child and supper to two ladies tomorrow. The supper has me more baffled than breakfast--though I always end up fishing my scrambled eggs out while they're still soft and runny while others wait until they turn to hard little rocks. The result is I eat breakfast alone and am through by the time others join me. Yep, I'm still cranky.
Going out on the deck to read The Virginian, which I'm enjoying all over again.

A stay in the country

Me with my brother a few years ago

 Jacob and I have just returned from two nights at my brother’s ranch near Tolar, Texas, where we got a good taste of country life. I’m quite sure Jacob and I had different perspectives on it, but for me it was another needed lesson in relaxation. After much internal debate, I took my computer, rationalizing that I had so much work to be done, so many files coming in that I had to save various places on my computer. I might as well have saved the trouble—my email worked once briefly on the computer, though the iPad and phone got emails regularly once I was hooked up to the Peckham home wifi. I did spend what my brother thought was an appalling amount of time at my computer. When I got home tonight, it worked perfectly. I’ll call TCU to see what the problem was.

But it’s so true the pace in the country is slower. Although John and Cindy do run a working ranch, with cattle, he is a retired physician, and he and Cindy do things on their own time schedule.

We were late getting there Sunday—probably six—and John took Jacob to collect eggs, feed the miniature donkey, and I don’t know what else. Then we had a happy hour, delayed by some experiment with the new magic oven and the fact that the salmon was undercooked even for my taste. But we had wonderful salmon, stir-fried vegetables (from the garden, of course), and a bit of leftover rice salad that I brought. By then, all that work I thought was so urgent didn’t seem urgent at all. I read a book before going to sleep and slept late (for me) the next morning.

Next morning, we dallied over coffee—me at the computer again, frustrated by its failure to connect-- and finally we started off on the mile to get the paper. Cindy walks and John follows in the Kubota—a mechanized mule. Jacob walked with Cindy for a good part of the way and then said his stomach started to hurt. Coming back from the highway, where the Star-Telegram leaves the paper, John walked for almost half a mile.  Just when he was about to get in the mule, a neighbor rode up on a bicycle, then another neighbor drove to get his paper, and they stood and “jawed” for a long while. Even I was getting that empty in the head feeling from needing to eat. So John suggested a chow break before they moved cows from one pasture to another, which is a complicated procedure—more about that from Jacob’s perspective tomorrow. But John acquired a shadow--Jacob dogged him everywhere he went, wanted to help, and was mightily disappointed this morning to learn that he'd slept through the successful move of the cows to the pecan pasture. John was firm but full of praise for Jacob's empathy for animals, and the child beamed. Oh, yeah, a couple of times he was too much but mostly it was good.

Moving the cows was only partially successful, but we were hot, dirty, and once again hungry, so we broke for lunch, naps, quiet time. A bit of idle visiting, and we were off to tour the ranch and look for traces of Bigfoot—by then I admit it was hot, and I was wilting.

And the day was gone—it was time to cook the steaks and have happy hour. If I ate that well every day, I’d be a blimp. Cindy made that ubiquitous potato casserole that everyone loves, as well as special home-made fries for Jacob. (The have a restaurant-quality special “magic oven” does everything.)

Bedtime, and Jacob was all excited because he had a very loose tooth. But my point is that the day just seemed to fade away. I never once looked at the clock. Yes, I worked at my computer but without the sense of urgency I frequently feel. I need to do that more often.

Tomorrow, a day in the country from a child’s perspective, complete with jackrabbits, a bull, a steer with horns, and Bigfoot.

Thanks to John and Cindy for hospitality, a great time, and fellowship. I know many families where siblings aren’t close, and I am grateful to John for our relationship and to Cindy for all the things we share—from cooking to grandchildren to animals. We have a lot to talk about when we’re together. What a nice break from my daily life.

A step back in time

 

Back in the day—what? thirty-five years ago?—I did it every day. Got four children off to Alice Carlson Elementary school every morning. I can’t remember if I packed lunches or not, but I suspect I did—I was that kind of mother. Another thing I can’t remember is whether or not I did homework with them. Certainly it wasn’t as intense as Jacob’s is these days. But this last week of school, he has no homework. What a relief.

Today and tomorrow I find myself getting him out the door to school at 7:50 in the morning. He refuses a packed lunch, so I tuck a baggie of money into his backpack. Tonight we showered and shampooed—a major undertaking, if I do say so. Tomorrow there will be the routine of waking him up, not an easy task in itself. Then he tells me he always watches TV while his mom and dad fix breakfast. How long do you think it takes me to toast frozen waffles and pour syrup on them? My kids never got such good sweet stuff for breakfast. I know I insisted on a healthy breakfast, but I’ll be darned if I came remember what it was. I know they did not watch TV while they waited for breakfast.

Then Jacob dresses, brushes teeth, uses mouthwash, and brushes his hair—all of which he does himself with his eagle-eyed grandmother watching and daring to make suggestions which are rejected. It’s that blasted cowlick! Elizabeth walks him down the street and to his classroom, an outing they both enjoy.

Today I went to the grocery, and it seemed like the morning was over before it began. Grabbed lunch and a nap and there I was, picking him up at school. There was a school “cultural festival” tonight, and bless the neighbors who took Jacob along with their two boys. As I said, “I served my time thirty-five years ago.”

I have new admiration for all my children who do that daily. I did it all, but now I can’t imagine how. Having Jacob here is a delight, and it makes me nostalgic for some of the happiest days of my life. But it also makes me tired.

The good kind of New Year's party

Jacob hosted a New Year's party this evening. Okay, it was his mom's idea, but she served six young children formally at the dining table--with my best china that I had given her. Confession: I did not mean her to serve six-to-eight year olds, and at least one mom was heard to say, "You're not serving my two-year-old on good china." But Jordan did it up proud, with carrot and celery stick appetizer in tiny glass cylinders on small plates; mac and cheese, hot dog bites in crescent rolls, and meatballs, plus chocolate pudding in flutes with the rims studded with multicolor shot. Jacob was very proud and told me he was the boss of the party. But he nearly pigged out on the chocolate/banana bread I was trying to slice beforehand--it did not slice well, and he picked up a huge piece and said, "This is a crumb. I'm so hungry!"
Normally I don't go to New Year's Eve parties--it's home in pjs for me. But tonight I really enjoyed myself. While the children ate, the adults gathered in small groups in the kitchen and noshed on a bunch of things from cheese and fruit to veggies and hummus, drunken meatballs, spanikopita, all kinds of good things.
I stayed just long enough--about an hour and a half. Had some wine, nibbled, talked with various of these young people all of whom I've known for years. They are so kind and welcoming, and I'm flattered to be included in their gatherings. When it was time for me to head home, I got warm hugs from them, and I came away thinking, "Now I want to visit longer with this one and that." I had a good chat with Christian's sister who is in graduate school and has moved her husband and two girls into student housing--she says, "We live in the dorm." But I am so proud of her. One of Jordan's friends married a history teacher--high school--this past year, and I so enjoy talking to him but we get distracted. A group of us had an intense conversation about first-grade homework--wow!
I was barely in the door at home when the phone rang--Jordan checking to be sure I got safely home. I took back roads and figured it was too early for drunks to be out. Many of the people at Jordan's will spend the night there rather than brave the roads.
So now Sophie and I are settled in for the night. I wish for each of you a healthy and happy 2013. I don't know that there's anything more important than that. For our fragile planet, I have so many wishes--peace, an end to global warming, an increased guardianship of what the earth gives us, an end to senseless gun massacres, an end to bigotry and hatred. That's a tall order but maybe in 2013 we can take more baby steps toward that. I do believe we grow a little better each year, not worse, and I can only look forward with positive hope.
A P.S. I can't resist: Jacob said the other day, "I kind of wish we weren't having the party. I'd like some of that melty cheese Juju made last year." I'd forgotten that he spent New Year's Eve with me last year, and I fixed cheese fondue! I've promised to make it for our Twelfth Night Supper when we, following family tradition, each throw a twig of greens into the fireplace and make a wish. Do you know how hard it is to find someone with a live green tree these days?

Mishaps and a good time

Dear friends are visitng me. They're from Omaha--a long way from Fort Worth and I'm flattered they would drive this distance to sit on my porch and visit, reminisce and sip a bit of wine. We figured out the other night that we have known each other fifty years--a scary thought in some ways but wonderfully comforting in others. I'm grateful beyond measure for friendships that endure.
We've had a series of mishaps. It began innocently enough Thursday night when Martha and I misjudged each other in passing salad--the result was water all over the table, salad in Martha's soup, and a lot of laughter. Then as we cleaned the kitchen, I took a pratfull--into the dishwasher. Even Jacob came running to see what happened. I was okay, although the next day bruises developed and my knee really hurt.
Friday was a bad day in several ways--I could not, absolutely could not, find my prescription sunglasses. I know they were on the kitchen counter but they had vanished. Dick, in trying to fix one TV, effectively killed another. There were spots on the tunic I wanted to wear that night.
Fortunately all things work out--the TV is replaced, plus a new one for the apartment. My sunglasses suddenly appeared sitting on top of the food processor--go figure! My knee is much better. The spots came out with water, and I wore the tunic.
And we have had wonderful moments--a trip to my brother's ranch, where we had a long, leisurely lunch and visit, a good lobster dinner tonight, lunch at the deli, Plus we've had all those long, lovely visits. It's absolutely the best front-porch weather, and we have rehashed our lives, our children's lives, in-laws, life experiences, causes, beliefs. We haven't touched much on politics not so much because we disasgree but because they are not as fervent as I am.
Best of all, they think Jacob is marvelous, and they love Sophie. I think she adores having a man around, for she will go to Dick in a flash and behave for him in ways that she never would for me. Hmmm--do you suppose they'd like to stay?
Old friends are indeed gold, to be treasured. I am so blessed.
 

Strenuous days, a five-year-old boy, and a rough dinner

I haven't been exercising lately because I had this puppy to care for, a full-time job that gave me plenty of exercise. But more and more she's getting self-sufficient. And I'm gaining weight and feeling the need (guilt?) to exercise. So today I did my yoga routine for the first time in two months. Not as bad as I expected--my muscles seemed to remember what they were supposed to do. Granted, I'm a little less flexible--not that I was ever very flexible--and my muscles quiver more in some exercises. But on the whole, I didn't do badly. I went from that to Sophie's first training session, which proved to be less hard on my body than on my nerves. I worried a great deal about being pulled down between the car and PetSmart, but I managed to control her efforts to run to every person she saw and we made it inside. Lesson was very valuable, from how to use treats to vocabulary. Sophie is, I think, part way through what she should have learned in this first lesson--for instance, she knows "sit" and "down" and I learned a super new technique for dealing with her jumping on me.
Jacob arrived shortly after I finished a hasty lunch--he was not in sympathy with my almost desperate need for a late afternoon nap. Woke me up to "love" on me and for several other reasons.  Finally he kissed me and said have a good nap. When I woke up it was almost six and suspiciously quiet from Jacob's playroom--he was sound asleep. I fed the dogs, started dinner, and then wakened him gently by scratching his back. He never wakes up from naps in a good mood but his bad, whiny mood took a while. Then he began to whine because I'd promised a picnic and it looked like rain; I suggested the porch; he cried and wanted his daddy. Finally he decided on the porch, and we carried our dinners out there, only to have him declare it was too windy. Back inside, where he spilled his dinner on the living room rug. Then he wanted to go back outside--carried our food back outside. Then he was sure there was a tornado coming, and we had to go inside. Long story not very short: I had a cold ground beef patty, salad was okay, he had 1-1/2 chicken nuggets, declared he couldn't eat the corn, and finished his meal with chocolate-covered raisins--half good half bad is my grandmotherly rationale.
Rain is in the air, praise be, and Jacob is obssessed with tornadoes, telling me about the ones he's experienced--yeah, sure--and predicting them outside. We have the weather channel on but it's hard for him to distinguish between videos of past tornados and anything happening here and now. He keeps wanting to go to the bathroom to hide but I have refused.
Writing the great American novel? What's that? I may get to read the John Grisham novel that I'm having a hard time with. My colleague Fred tells me it has a section about an inapropriate develpment project, relevant to my work-in-progress, but I haven't come to it yet and am finding, as I have before, that Grisham just doesn't captivate me. This one is The Last Juror.
In sum, a grandmotherly Saturday. Were my kids like this?
Most of the rest of my family is in Austin for a race of some sort--I can't sort out if it's an ironman or a muddy whatever, but I'm a bit sad not to be with them.

My day started with marching drums about 7:30 in the morning. Sophie got so excited we had to go out on the porch early and listen to the drums--which can get rather repetitive, especially before you've had coffee. But there's something really neat about an elementary school that puts on a neighborhood walkathon instead of selling candy to raise funds--there was so much school spirit. The majority of parents marched with their children, and the Paschal HIgh School Band led the way, behind police cars with flashsing lights. Parents and children alike wore their red Lily B. Clayton T-shirts, and you could feel the excitement in the air. Jacob is lucky to go to this very special school. It was a long day for him, because tonight was family fun night, complete with hot dogs, face painting, bounce house, super-high slides, and all that kind of thing. His mom is out of town on business and pouting about missing all the fun.
I on the other hand had a relatively easy day--after I could get my car out of the driveway, when the parade festivities were over, I ran a couple of errands, did odds and ends, ate an early lunch and had a good nap. Jacob spent the afternoon at the neighbors' playing with three-year-old Abby. They created sidewalk art, of  which he was very proud. I got to stay home and clear stray junk off my desk. By the time his dad arrived to take him to family night, I was able to settle down and get some good solid writing time. Just wish I knew where this novel is going.

Tell me it's a holiday

By nine in the morning today, I was exhuasted--and I'd only been up an hour and a half. But there were the dogs to tend to, in shifts of course, because if the little dog is out with the big one, she forgets what she's supposed to be doing outside. The cat came out of hiding wanting to be fed. There were porch plants to water (that's not a small chore), the bed to make--never did get to the laundry. And then there was Jacob, who wanted his waffle NOW. When he wanted a second, he banged on the table and pointed to his empty plate, I told him I didn't speak that language. Finally, he got his second waffle, after an appropriate, "Please may I have..." and I got a cup of coffee and the newspaper.
Jacob is a wonderful help with the dogs. He loves on Scooby, who needs it a lot, and he plays with Sophie endlessly. She thinks he means fun. When I had her outside this morning Jacob wandered out, barely awake, and she covered him with wet, sloppy kisses. But there are lapses in judgment--forgetting to close a door so the dog I was keeping inside goes out, emptying their water bowl (I know not why), then making a huge muddy mess when I asked him to refill it. Well, he's only five.
Animal trauma: I had to have the cat shaved. He was one big mat. On his rear end and back the fur was matted like a carpet, close to his skin. His stomach was a succession of huge mats, and he even had small ones hanging under his chin so you couldn't scratch in his favorite spot. They asked if I cared how he looked or just wanted him to be comfortable--the mats pulled and hurt him, I know. I said no, I didn't care how he looked, but I was unprepared for the creature I let out of the cat carrier. Like a long-legged rat with a bushy tail and big head. He hid all night and still is hiding most of the day but he emerges occasionally to eat. He has the thin body of an old man, which only makes sense--he is really old. I hope he's grateful, but I suspect he's embarrassed.
This evening, Jacob's gone home, Sophie is playing at my feet, Scooby is outside, and the cat is in his hiding place, wherever that is. Peace and quiet. After a looooong nap--two hours--I'm feeling a bit better about the world. It was about to get me earlier in the day.
Jacob and I did go to Central Market and then to Smashburger's to meet his parents.What a delicious burger! Honest, I don't let myself eat burgers very often, but this was great.
Jacob has the baby thing all figured out. We were talking about apartments--he said he'd like to live in one, and I said houses were so much nicer. But I pointed out that his mom and dad lived in an apartment before he was born.
That, he said decisively, is what they should do. Move to an apartment and then move to a house, and then they'd have another baby. Great logic, from one who wants a baby sister though I guess he'd settle for a baby brother.
Nice day--good kind of tired. Writing? Yeah, I did a little this afternoon but I was so sleepy I could hardly keep my eyes open. I'll reread tonight and see if it made any sense. I doub it. Tomorrow.
Meantime, life is good.

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

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

The world is in its place

Okay, maybe there are a few problems to worry about like wars and extreme politics, drought and an unbelievable heat wave. But my little corner of the world is back in order. It wasn't easy.
I picked up my car yesterday at noon (hot and sunny). Got half a mile from the dealership, and the car died--in the right turn lane of a busy street. Made a lot of other drivers really angry, but I have to say one woman pulled up next to me to ask if I needed help and a gentleman got out of his truck to make sure I was okay. I assured them I had just called for rescue, and the man said, "Okay, as long as you're alright." There are good people in this world. Rescue, from the dealership, came pretty quickly--it just seemed like forever as I stood in the heat, with my anxiety level rising. They pushed the car into a nearby parking lot, and the courtesy driver, a nice young man named Blake who was by now my friend since this was our second visit, drove me home. I resigned to not having the car for at least another twenty-four hours, but they called about 4:00 and said it had been "an honest mistake"--I've heard more technical language than I can possibly understand this week but it had something to do with timing and tension and a belt and a bolt. Third time was the charm--Jacob and I made it all the way home.
The computer was much easier. I thought it would be two o'clock before it came, and I would have to rush Jacob right out there after school, but just as my stomach was rumbling and I was thinking of lunch at 11:30, the TV dealer called and the part came in. I rushed out and got it. Installing it and starting the computer took two minutes--and I was back in business. I've been working like mad most of the afternoon to catch up--and doing well at it.
This has also been my first week of keeping Jacob after school, and it's gone well. Because open spaces sometimes bother me, I worried about crossing the street but it's been a piece of cake. I cross right in front of my house but we have to trudge down the block to cross where the guard is when we come home. Hottest time of the day, and I'm wiped out by the time we get home. Jacob ran all the way up the block today, taunting me. He has also refused to hold my hand--my, how we grow up. But he stops to give me a hug in the mornings and waves happily to me as he comes out of school in the afternoons. We talk, and snack, and he draws. Not much TV which is good.
So tonight I'm back into my routine. Sophie is sleeping at my feet, and I'm at my computer. Car in the garage. All is well at my house. Hope I'm not speaking too soon.
One thing I did this evening was to proof a story of mine, "Prisoners," which will be in Tales from the Backlist, an anthology being produced by BacklisteBooks.com. This sounds like BSP (Blatant Self Promotion) but years after I wrote it, I am surprised and pleased by how much I like it. It's in Sue Ellen Learns to Dance and Other Stories, available in print or from Kindle or Smashwords. How's that for subtle BSP?

Cats, dogs, and grandchildren

My cat is 19 years old. Last weekend, son Jamie who found the cat as a kitten and brought him home, was here and asked why his breathing was labored. I realized that I'd seen his sides really heaving and when he sits on my desk, I can hear a squeak as he breathes. Put my ear to his chest--scientific, no?--and heard rattling. A call to the vet resulted in a likely diagnosis of asthma or allergies but they should see him. Nothing so simple, although no pneumonia. He has a hernia in his diaphragm, so his intestines are all pushed up into his chest, making it hard for him to breathe. Solution is an expensive, difficult surgery, which we aren't doing for a 19-year-old cat. After all, he's the equivalent of 99 or so in our life span. The problem may be congenital but if so, how did he live such a long and happy life. I'm betting it happened recently, for who knows what reason? Something we'll never know.
My dog is also aging--12, but that's getting on for an Australian shepherd. Abused before I got him, he periodically develops new fears. These hot days I bring him in after lunch, so can nap in the cool. Suddenly, he's afraid to come in the house. Today was the worst. He looked at the door, looked at me, stared off into space. I left the door open and went back into the kitchen. He came in but when I went to close the door he beat me outside. I tried putting a treat just inside the door--he snatched it and went back outside. I left and forgot about it for a while. Finally when I tried again, after much coaxing and loving talk, he came hesitantly up the stairs and in. None of this seems to bother him at night, when he comes right in. I wonder if the heat is making him crazy.,
I've had Jacob the last three evenings--at least he has no serious illnesses and no fears. Two of the three days I've picked him up at school--and woken myself from a deep nap to do it. Today I was so sleepy that when I got him home, I went back to my nap while he,exhausted from playing at day-care, watched TV. But we have peaceable suppers and good companonship. This is all training for next year when I'll get him at 3:00 every day.
Oh, and then there was the major car repair. Nope, it hasn't been my most peaceful week nor one full of accomplishment. Hope everyone has a good weekend--stay inside and stay cool.

Somebody please align the planets

My newspaper horoscope today said to let go of pet projects, something I've actually done with a bit of success. But I haven't gone deeper to explore the alignment of the planets and what it means to someone of my sign, Cancer. I don't need to--I know they've been out of alignment for several days.
Yesterday I had to take my car for repair--one of those annoying little warning lights went on. $500 later and at the end of the day I got my seven-year-old VW beetle convertible back, supposedly good as new. Meantime, in the early morning I ended up with five-year-old Jacob, so I took him to the dealership and then shopping with my friend Jeannie. This meant a lot of transferring of the booster seat--not a major problem, just an annoyance. At Tuesday Morning, Jacob spent at least thirty minutes in the toy aisle, walking up and down, commanding, "Stand right there, Juju," and then putting his hands to his head and saying, "Come on, Jacob. Buy something." He finally settled on a really cheap $2.99 toy, which he promptly left at my house.
I had not one but three social engagements last night--and they all fell through. First, two good friends were to come from out of town so I could cook them a gourmet meal and we could have a sleepover. One had a death in the family, and they had to cancel. Then I was invited to a dinner party, with my contribution to be guacamole. I had made a large batch of guac when the host called to say he had gout and was cancelling. I gave most of the guac to my neighbors. They were going to a neighborhood BYOB party and invited me, but by the time I got the car home I decided it was hot and I was tired. Truth be told, I was in a funk.
Today started off better, and I was all geared up to take the cat to the vet. With cats, if you miss that first attempt to put one in the crate, you might as well give up. Yep, I missed, and the cat was on alert. So instead I gave him his hydration treatment, for which he was quite docile--I think he's getting used to it. Then I ran by the vets to exchange their crate for a larger one and went to a TCU luncheon featuring a TCU Press book. While there I discovered that I have double-booked myself for lunch Friday--one appt. at 11 and one at 12. I'm going to camp at the restaurant and the noon people will meet me there. Jordan called to ask if I could keep Jacob after school. A friend had unexpectedly lost her mother and Jordan would be making an extended sympathy call. So I expected her to bring him about 4:15 and happily went to get a nap before that. At 4:30, I woke with a start and called to see where she was--at the friend's house. Where was Jacob? At school. The part of the message I didn't get was that I was supposed to get him. So I rushed off to the day-care, which is only across the street.
Tonight made up some for the confusion. Betty and I took Jacob to The Tavern, which we have discovered is one of our favorite restaurants. She and I split deviled eggs--we'd done that last week and loved them--and then an order of scallops with salad. Jacob had a grilled peanut butter and banana sandwich with lots of good thin fries. Christian came and met us at the restaurant, so I took Betty home and came home to settle down.
Tomorrow doesn't promise to be much better--take the cat to the vet at nine, meeting with a web designer at ten, lunch with a good friend at 11:30, pick up the cat, and come home and prepare for class that night. What can possibly go wrong? A whole lot!

A St. Paddy's Day faux Irish Stew

My original title for Cooking My Way Through Life with Kids and Books was The Faux Gourmet. It came from the fact the one highly critical (but very helpful) reader said she (I'm presuming it was a she) would never cook with canned soup. I make King Ranch Chicken with Healthy Heart Campbells' cream of mushroom and cream of chicken soups.The reader insisted she made hers with made-from-scratch white sauce, which sounded like more work and too bland for me. I honestly read recipes on the internet for duplicating the taste of the canned soups but they were tons of trouble and still had some of the ingredients purists would object to. So I remain a happy faux gourmet.
Tonight I had Jacob, and Betty was coming for dinner, since we missed our usual dinner out for the week. I had meant to open a can of my fancy tuna and make a salad with all kinds of veggies and tuna, but then I realized I had that leftover lamb I've been eating all week and even took to Sue's last night. So I did all those things no true gourmet would do--I made two instant packets of brown gravy that were in the cupboard (that's a whole 'nother story about Norwegian hamburgers, for another time). I added a bouillon cube, dumbed in the cubed lamb with a small can of green beans and a healthy bit of frozen corn. I thought I had frozen peas but I didn't, so the green beans were a substitute and they worked well. Added pepper and thyme but not salt since I figure the prepared gravy and bouillon took care of that. Served it over a mixture of penne and rigatoni pasta, and it was delicious, if I do say so. The leftovers will go to Christian who will love them.
I have been accused--who, me?--of letting Jacob manipulate me, so tonight I was quite strict. No, he could not have chicken nuggets--he was eating stew. He must have gotten a piece of gristle, because he thought the meat was too chewy. But he ate all his noodles and some of the stew, so I gave him ice cream, followed by the banana he wanted. When bedtime came (a little late because I was doing dishes), I was firm: TV off, use the potty, brush your teeth and get into bed. I gave him a few minutes to play with his toys, then let him pet Scooby goodnight, and firmly closed the door to his room, telling him I loved him and "Sweet dreams." He said he'd go to sleep better with a little more TV, but  I didn't fall for it. So at after 9:30 I can hear him on the monitor, having conversations with his toy figures--or maybe himself.
We read a book that had a picture of a goldfish.
Me: Jacob, hows your goldfish?
Jacob, very philosophically: Fine. He hasn't died yet.
Earlier in the evening, we stepped next door to see the new baby--they were out in the back yard. The baby slept so peacefully in his mom's arms. We took his big sis, three-year-old Abby, a pink bunny and for new Grayson, a tiny T-shirt that says "It ain't easy being the cutest cowboy around." Jacob wasn't actually as interested in the baby as I thought he'd be, but he was most interested in being the one to present the gifts.
Grandkids, good friends and good neighbors surely make life sweet.

And a good new year to all

Jacob welcomes in the new year--quite a bit before midnight. We celebrated with a hat, horns, and a Black Forest cupcake apiece. Two-year-old Abby from next door came to play, and her parents and I ate hummus and crackers while the children played. Finally I fixed everyone hot dogs in crescent rolls and then they took a sobbing Abby home--she wanted to stay and play! Now Jacob is up way too late watching the New Year's TV in my office. We're both ready for bed soon but  may make it to 11:00 when the Times Square ball will fall.
And tomorrow--oh, my--the parade and the big game with TCU paying Wisconsin. Last prediction I heard was that we won't win but I think it's pretty special just to be at the Rose Bowl. Seems like half my friends are in Pasadena right now. I've wondered about those who drove with the blizzards in Arizona and the rain in southern California.
Several people have suggestd to me that 2011 will be so much better than 2010--and maybe it will. The stock market closed higher, and the predictions are for the economy to recover. I have too many friends who have suffered the loss or severe illness of a loved one in the past year. If you've had problems in 2010, be they economic, career related, illiness of yourself or loved ones, I do sincerely hope 2011 brings you new times. But I have to say, selfishly and personally, 2010 wasn't all that bad. I finally settled in to retirement and decided I love it; I spent more time than usual at family gatherings, always a blessing; I think I made real progress on several writing projects. So if like me you've had a good 2010, I hope 2011 blesses you with even more of the good you've enjoyed. My thoughts and prayers will be with each and every one for a wonderful year of love, happiness, and accomplishment.
Oh yeah, there's tomorrow. Ham, black-eyed peas, and de-Christmasing the house in addition to that football game. LIfe never seems to get dull.  Now if I can just gt Jacob to admit he's sleepy . . . .

Writing Woes and a good dinner

The end of my novel-in-progress has been kicking around in my head for several days but I just haven't had an unbroken spell of time to work on it (tells you I'm not as dedicated as I should be). Today I sent Jordan, Christian and Jacob off to Smashburgers and to play in the park with the double excuse that I wanted to write and I didn't need the calories of a hamburger (all too true!). I wrote like a blue streak--1500 words in an hour, because I knew where I was going. Got right up to the climactic scene, which I haven't quite worked out in my mind. I may not work it out until I actually sit down to write it. But I realized I'd been writing with a sure knowledge of what was going to happen for some time now and hadn't thought about chapters. I checked and found my last chapter was over 8,000 words--enough for at least three chapters. So I went back to correct that but found in the process that Chapter Fourteen consists of a half of a meaningless sentence. If I ever wrote Chapter Fourteen, it's gone except for that fragment. I knew instantly one part that needs to open the chapter, but I have no clue what else may have been in it (good lesson in learning to outline by chapters). I can only reconstruct on my first edit of the complete manuscript and try to remember what action is left out. I have a vague idea, but that's it. Truly frustrating, and yet I feel quite encouraged about the manuscript tonight. How did I lose it? Who knows? Maybe a mistake in saving, maybe a mistake in putting in chapters because I'm always writing great blocks of copy and then going back to put in chapters--in truth, it may be that not much is missing, although there is an abrupt transition between the end of Chapter 13 and the beginning of Chapter 15. Somehow I feel confident I'll figure it out.
After my mad writing streak, Jacob came back to spend the afternoon while his dad went to work and his mom was busy helping a friend move. I took a nap, leaving him to watch TV. He woke me once to ask when Beth and Weldon would be here, but when I got up from my nap, he was sound asleep. Awake, he repeated the question--he wanted Beth and Weldon. He was so excited by their presence that he ended up being a bit of a brat. I thought I was quite firm with him, but they both shook their heads and said, no, I was grandmotherly.
I did fix a terrific dinner, if I do say so. Porterhouse pork chops that I had brined, then roasted and served with a pan jus of chicken and beef broth, sauteed red cabbage with just a hint of vinegar, and mashed potatoes. Beth and Weldon are gluten/ dairy free (plus she doesn't eat soy or corn) so it's hard to cook for them, and I had to leave butter out. It worked out just fine. I did add butter to the jus after they'd been served, but I honestly don't see that it made that much difference.
Bless them, they helped get the Christmas decorations out of the attic. So now I'm torn--I have the whole day tomorrow. Don't know whether to unpack the Christmas stuff or write. I think Christmas will win out since there's an early holiday event at my house just after Thanksgiving and I won't have time over the holiday weekend.
Jacob has gone home with his mom (having left his beloved "Froggie" behind--she has a backup but called to say he can tell the difference). Beth and Weldon have gone home, and I have cleaned the kitchen. The dog and cat are asleep in their respective places. What a peaceful household. I love it!

Another lemon

Just when I was getting over yesterday's disappointment about my agent dropping me, another disappointment: U-Verse's contract with Food Network has expired, and when I clicked the channel where I usually get it I got a reality show about housewives. Not what I wanted at all. I've voiced as many complaints as I could.
Tonight the new neighbors (wonder when I'll stop using that adjective) came for supper--Meredith, Brannon, and two-year-old Abby. Jacob and Abby played together, and he was really a sweet good boy with the littler child. We had a killer cassereole of beef, noodles, and lots of stuff bad for you like sour cream, cheese, and Ritz crackers soaked in melted butter--thanks to Jenn Riley of Mystery Lovers Kitchen. After they left a bit after eight I did the dishes and went to look at Jacob who was watching a Star Wars DVD--only he was sound asleep. I slipped his jeans add pants off and was about to put a diaper on when he fell off the bed and woke up in full indignation, declared he was not asleep--his eyes were open. So I put pjs on him and dispensed with all othr night-time rituals. Tucked him in and figured he'd fall asleep again watching TV. It's apparently his night for abuse, since earlier we had watched a video of the friendship between a dog and a dolphin--and I went to get the keyboard out to thank the friend who sent it and soundly whacked Jacob in the cheek with the keyboard. Lots of tears, cries for Mommy, but then he spotted a new toy in the bookcase--I'd been thinking it might be his Christmas present, but it came in handy tonight to dry those tears.
Meredith and Brannon are fun--thirty years old, which makes them forty-two years younger than me, but I thoroughly enjoy their company. And Abby is sweet, quite mature for a two-year-old. So it was a pleasant evening.
Cold out these nights--porch weather didn't last long enough.

Mondays

Why are Mondays always full of detail work, catching up, and stuff like that? I spent the morning answering emails, reading the newspaper online, doing not much profitable Taught my memoir class at noon, which went well, though when we ran out of discussion before the end of the period, I read them my piece on panic disorder. They were noticeably quiet, no response. Not sure how to interpret that. I asked how many knew about anxiety disorder and only one or two hands went up, so I hope I enlightened them. They are a good group, faithful attendees,but somehow the bonding of the evening group is missing. I think it's the difference between taking an hour from work and being in a home setting, plus Thursday evenings we loosen everyone's tongue with a bit of wine. I haven't written anything for the evening group in a long time, because they chatter away the whole evening.
I'm still on my writing kick--a thousand words this afternoon and hope to do a thousand this evening. I'm now in that phase of "get through the rough draft." Then I can go back, patch, elaborate, cut, whatever. I bet I add another 10,000 words when I do that. Okay, at least I'm hoping.
Life promises to get hectic toward the end of the week, so I'm doing as much ahead as I can--tonight I did a "kitchen" wash--towels, napkins, etc.
Jordan, Jacob, and Christian came tonight to eat leftover meatballs and mashed potatoes with spinach and gruyere--Jacob flatly refused the potatoes but enthusiastically ate two meatballs with brown gravy while declaring, "I love chicken, Juju." I didn't tell him he was eating beef. His parents, not spinach eaters, ate the potatoes, though Christian said they tasted very "spinachy." Jordan actually ate what Jacob left on his plate. While Jordan and Christian were clearing the table and getting him ice cream, Jacob came over to me and said, "Juju, I like you and I love you." Wonder if he really knows the distinction? Anyway, it was a "Be still my heart" moment.
What this post amounts to is I had nothing significant to say, just wanted everyone to know I am alive and well. Hope all is well in your world.