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.

Coming home is hard, gubernatorial campaign, and a dog/child problem

I'm not a good traveler. I don't like to be away from my house, my animals, my own bed for very long. But I often find coming home is harder than leaving. After a wonderful three nights in Austin with Megan's family, Jamie's girls, and glimpses of Jamie, I got home yesterday about 3:15 and had less than two hours before Jacob arrived for the night.
The trouble with me, I confess, is that I'm almost obsessive-compulsive. If it needs to be done, I want to do it NOW. I come home, no matter how long I've been gone nor how much computer access I've had, to tons of computer work to do, bags to unpack, animals to reassure, the "to do" list I made while traveling--and I bigosh have to get it done that day. Last night, poor Jacob suffered from it--he was watching TV but I told him to come get me if he needed me, which he did about ten times. I was tired, and I'm sure he could tell I was losing my patience, because at one point he asked, "Juju, are you happy?" He, poor baby, had an ear ache so wasn't at his best either, and it was not our best evening together. I did get him down by 9:30--pretty good for a school night. And this morning? Nothing on my desk seemed that urgent.
Jacob pounded on my leg to wake me about 7:45, announcing that it was wake-up time and seemed offended that I didn't spring right out of bed. Somehow it was almost nine before I got coffee and my morning yogurt. Finally, at 9:30, he was off to school, and at ten I went to make phone calls for Bill White. I'm pleased to report that I only talked to one person who was voting for Perry and quite a few who were voting for White. And a few undecideds actually listened to me tell them why we needed White and thanked me. My main talking point? The state is $18 billion in debt, a fact that never comes out in Perry's rosy ads about how well Texas is doing. And now more and more of Perry's underhanded deals are coming out. Want to check the veracity of ad claims? Go to shootstraightTexas.com. It gives the truth about both sides and their campaign claims.

I've got a dog problem. Jacob loves Scooby and says "See? Scooby loves me!" but Jacob is also a bit afraid of Scooby. When I gave Jacob a handful of four treats and told him to take them to the office, he kept throwing them at Scooby to keep him at a distance from him. But once Scooby was in the office, Jacob wanted to stay and "play" with him. Well, Jacob makes Scooby as nervous as the other way around. Scooby reverted into the panic mode he used to show during storms, getting under my desk and pawing at me. I finally put both of them in their respective beds, but I'm thinking some desensitization training is needed. Scooby is 11 but I think I can teach an old dog new tricks with his training leash and soothing words. The problem will be to get Jacob to be calm, slow, and loving. Guess I'll work on it this weekend. Scooby is actually the most loving dog in the world, but because he was abused in his previous life, he has some real quirks and fears. A report for dog lovers will follow next week.
Writing a mystery? What's that? I swear I'm going to get back to it.

Restaurant choices, candidates, a funny day, and Scotland

Betty and I had our weekly dinner tonight and once again--second time in two weeks--I chose Pappadeaux, which was mistake. Last week, the stock show was still in town and there was a wait. Tonight there were even more cars in the parking lot, and we couldn't figure out what was going on. Duh! Mardi gras. We stood and waited for about 30 minutes--and all I wanted was a baked potato! My stomach was a little off today--I think it was that blasted chili. I'm too Scottish to throw it out, so I froze it, will probably throw it out later. We had a good visit and enjoyed supper--for a seafood place they serve huge and fluffy baked potatoes, which was exactly what my stomach felt like.
I came home to a veritble flock of flies in the kitchen. Got in a couple of good air shots and probably killed three or four but they seemed to multiply before my eyes. Good news of the day is that I found my sunglasses--in the rosemary bush! I had them on Sunday when I was weeding and come Monday morning I went all over the house wondering where I had absent-mindedly set them down. Finally today, I took a broomstick out to the rosemary bushes, and there they were! So I was one for one on good/bad news but then tonight I missed a phone call I was expecting because dinner took longer than I thought. And then in the flurry of trying to juggle two lines, I accidently erased the message. Nolanda, apologies and please do try again. I think this just wasn't my day.
Like a lot of the country I'm watching election returns, though it's often hard to decipher what's really happening from a string of seemingly disconnected numbers. The general impression I'm getting is that McCain will win for the Republicans but not enough to declare victory and Mike Huckabee is doing better than anyone expected. Not sure, but it looks to me like Hillary is doing better than Obama. (Is it a holdover from earlier days that everyone calls her Hillary but him by his last name, Obama? I wonder if feminists are upset about that?) I guess I'll wait till morning to have my guesses confirmed. If I'm right, our Texas primary will have some significance. I've already voted--one of the advantages of growing older is that you can now vote by mail.
Scotland plans are proceeding. We picked a London hotel today and asked Jordan to find out about the cost of first class railway reservations. We'll go directly from London to Inverness in the heart of the Highlands. I've had only one answer from the B&Bs I emailed, so I tried again tonight. On another front, I've arranged to board my animals. Wynona will go to the cat room at the vet's--she won't be confined to a cage all the time, and she'll have people to love her (plus figure out her new weird eating habits). But Scooby is going to Granbury (about 30 miles away) to Canine Fitness Camp--they pick up and deliver. What a deal. I doubt he'll want to come home.
I've also begun a list (I'm a chronic list-maker) of things to be sure I have enough of for the trip--medications, makeup, etc. And a list of questions for Jeannie--what clothes should I really take, what do we do about currency, etc. I'm thinking ahead about comfortable shoes and am relucantly getting into buying "old lady" shoes that will protect my hammer toe. Clothes are a big concern to me because everyone talks about how cold it will be but it's hard to pack many warm clothes in a suitcase! And a biggie--I who never go anywhere these days without my walking stick have ordered a collapsible wallking stick (it's really a cane but I hate that word). This one has dogwood blossoms on it--none of that black-and-aluminum stuff for me! This trip is really becoming a reality, and I'm terribly excited--and a wee bit trepidatious. (is that a word?)

Babysitting and Baby Love

I babysat with Jacob last night, and he had a hard time going to sleep. He'd fuss, then he'd cry, then he'd be quiet, and I thought I was home free. Then he'd start through that litany of sounds again, and I held my breath. But after 20-25 minutes, all was quiet, and I thought he was asleep. Well, he probably was for about 45 minutes, and then he awoke screaming--I was on the phone with my brother. When I went into his room, poor little Jacob sobbed and held his arms up to be picked up. Well, discipline and good habits be darned, who could resist that? So I picked him up, and he clung to me like I was the last and only port in a terribly scary storm. I sat in the rocker and talked to him, and soon he was asleep--a great snuffly sleep because his nose is still stuffy from whatever attacked him earlier in the week.
Grandmothers have to realize--and it's hard--that we aren't the primary people in our grandchildren's lives. It's not the same as when we had children, and they instinctively turned to us--we were the anchors in their world. Grandchildren turn to their parents in the same way, and since I'm usually around my grandchildren and their parents at the same time--after all, they live far and I love the parents' company too--I'm not alone with the babies. So it's probably been over 30 years, when Jordan was a baby, since I've had a warm little body press itself against me in that kind of desperate hold. I've got to admit I loved it. I rocked him long after he'd gone to sleep, probably at least 30 minutes--and friends will tell you I'm not one to sit in a chair and rock for thirty minutes. But that warm, snuffly little body was snuggled into me. When I did finally put him in his crib, he cried, but I patted his back and he went to sleep.
Of course, he woke up about 1:30--the monitor was still in my bedroom, though Jordan later moved it. So I went to check on him. This morning Christian said he too checked on him. I laughed and said Jacob would figure out that if he cried in the night he'd get a parade of people into his room. But babysitting was a lovely event last night.
Here it is September, and we're not going to Scotland until April, but we're already shopping. I bought some shoes today--Jeannie insists they must have good arch support because we're going to walk a lot--and a hat (Scotland can be cold in April apparently). And I found a fling and a corduroy shirt that I want for the trip--I'm going to blow my budget on clothes beforehand and not have any left for the trip! I've also been exploring the web to find b&bs near Loch Ness. I guess planning is half the fun. Jeannie, on the other hand, worried most about tickets. Being a former flight attendant and the wife of a retired pilot, she flies on miles all the time and knows the ins and outs, mostly, of reservations--I don't give it a thought. But she insisted we figure it out yesterday, and we did. She's flying miles and I'm buying a ticket business class (don't ask!) but as of yesterday we are both ticketed. I'm really getting excited about this. Doing lots of reading about Scottish history and the MacBain clan. I even paid my clan dues, as though it would make me legitimate.