This, that, and the Democratic Debate

I have so enjoyed the three-day weekend. Stayed home all three days, slept late (Sophie has developed the habit of jumping on the bed and getting in my face when she thinks I’ve slept long enough), did a bit of cooking, and got lots of desk work done. The trouble with that is the more you do, the more there is to do. Writing is an uncertain life—one day you may think your desk is relatively clear, and the next you’re inundated with a thousand small projects. That’s where I am now—inundated.

I think I’m becoming a piscatarian—one who eats fish but not other flesh. Saturday I had salmon for dinner; Sunday for lunch I defrosted a tuna pasty; for dinner I had marinated tuna; today I made salmon salad for lunch because Jordan was coming on her lunch hour, and tonight I finished the marinated tuna. Tomorrow I’ll finish the salmon salad for lunch, but then by time for dinner at the Grill, I’ll be ready for beef or turkey.

Tonight good friends were coming for happy hour. I started a fire, put out three wine glasses, even put on lipstick…and then went to my computer to find they had to cancel because he’s had health issues. Disappointing but I have enough on my desk to keep me busy—and a book I’m really enjoying.

If you read this blog much you know I am a dedicated progressive, liberal, Democrat—whatever term you want to use, whether or not it’s a pejorative to you. I watched the debate last night, and frankly I was disappointed. I had hoped the Democrats would continue a collegial discussion of issues that concern us all. But instead Hillary Clinton went on the attack against Bernie Sanders.  They weren’t as ugly and angry as the Republicans (frankly I don’t watch those debates because of the anger level and the lack of concern for the common good). Occasionally both Clinton and Sanders managed smiles and chuckles, but there was an acrimonious tone to the debate that dismayed me. Poor O’Malley was left sort of off-stage, but I do like him, think he's a voice of common sense. I guess conventional wisdom is that he’s in this for a vice-presidential spot—and that would please me.

Which of the two forerunners am I going to vote for? I’m still not decided. Friends in politics tell me Sanders can’t win a national election, but didn’t they say that about Obama? And doesn’t his campaign echo Obama’s 2008 campaign? I know Hillary has the experience and the knowledge to do the job, but sometimes a bit of mistrust creeps into my mind. And an occasional photographer manages to catch her with a cold, unpleasant look on her face.

I don’t know, but if Trump wins (which I sincerely doubt but am afraid to say out loud), I’ll begin to make plans to move. Now he’s taking credit for the release of the Iranian hostages, claiming they were freed because Iran is afraid of him. So much for President Obama and diplomatic negotiations. As a good friend would say, “Give me a break!”

A time for resolutions--or is it?

Jacob and I celebrated New Year's Eve tonight with fondue and wine--sparkling cider or "kid wine" for him, and chardonnay for me. He asked for fondue because we had it last year and he loved it. I had forgotten that it is both expensive and work-intensive--I stirred until I thought it would never come together. And then he said he didn't really like the cheese much but he ate the bread and apples. Truth is, it wasn't as good as I remember either, and it scorched on the bottom. Nonetheless, the idea was fun.
The other night at dinner we were joking about my son-in-law's 2014 resolutions, and I suggested he resolve never to say, "I don't eat ......." He looked appalled and said he couldn't do that. So I said that I had no resolutions to make, and he retorted, "Oh. Because you're perfect?" And I said, "You got it." Truth is I do have some resolutions in mind, though they are only vaguely formulated in my mind--I may blog about them later, but all I can say now is that they have to do with personal growth.
Meantime it occurs to me that New Year's Eve is also a time to look backward and give thanks for the good things in our past year and in our lives. I started a list.
On a daily basis, I am grateful beyond words for my four children and their families, their love for me and pride in my work, their successes in their own lives and families. They make me proud every day--well, okay, there are a few lapses. I am particularly grateful for Jordan, her husband Christian, and their son Jacob who constitute my local family and whom I see almost every day. Because I keep Jacob in the afternoons and a lot of nights I am particularly close to him...and I wish I had that relationship with my other six grandchildren.
I am grateful for my writing, my involvement in the online mystery-writing community, and the shape that work gives to my daily life, though I'm glad I don't rely on it for my livelihood. I'm grateful for my oh-so-comfortable house where I am completely at home, and for those who help me run it--the wonderful woman who cleans, Greg who keeps the garden, Lewis and Jim who see to repairs major and minor. Jacob pointed out it takes a lot of people to run my house, and I said, "Yes, a village." I'm thankful too for wonderful neighbors
I am grateful for Sophie, that wild Indian of a dog who stole a big chunk of expensive tuna off my plate last night and just snitched a Kleenex (used of course). She is daily in her devotion, even lying in the middle of the bathroom when I shower. She is good company, and I love our special tummy-rub time late at night.
2013 brought problems but mostly moments of high delight--there was a marvelous trip to Hawaii with Jordan in late February--a place I never thought I'd go, and I loved it. Thanks to lifelong friends Martha and Dick for hosting us. There was a wowzer of a 75th birthday party, mostly celebrating the new deck in my backyard. For most of the year, Elizabeth lived in the guest house--she was great company, Jacob adored her, and I welcomed not only our late-night wine sessions but also the presence of another person on the property. A corner of our small community here will always miss her. This fall brought a much-anticipated visit from my high school buddy Barbara and her daughter, Amy--too short but wonderful times. We can laugh together as we did in high school.
And there was our Christmas trip to Santa Fe which also brought about a visit with a thirty-year friend I probably haven't seen in ten years.
Do I have worries? Of course--the health of my oldest son is tops on my list of worries, closely followed by what I should do about my career. And there are niggling small annoyances but I feel so blessed by the life I lead.
2014? I think I'll try to grow up--and out (spiritually and mentally but, Lord help me, not physically). God rest ye all and bring you a bright new year.

Charging ahead

A book is the greatest gift you can give a child

I seem to have rushed headlong into 2013 without a backward glance. It's only January 5, and I have a deskload of projects and am feeling the pressure of work--started a new novel and want to do something on it every day, a book to review, blogs to write, Facebook to keep up with as well as I can, and an edited collection of my blogs to work on for possible publication with a small press--their request. Trouble is I set my own goals and deadlines, and then have trouble convincing myself that the pressure I feel is self-generated, and the world won't end--nor will my career--if I don't make those deadlines. I think it's part of being a compulsive personality--I've never really learned to piddle well.
The novel is waking me up at five in the morning, my mind full of plot ideas. This morning I almost go up at six, but I really resent getting up before seven. When I got up though, I wrote down key words so I'd remember all those ideas. I now have enough to write way more than my daily thousand-word quota--but when will I find the time?
This morning was taken up by the mundane--empty the dishwasher, take out the garbage, water the plants, grocery store, dollar store (doesn't everyone have to have new hangers for the closet?), and do my yoga--first time in a week, and I could tell I was stretching muscles that had been stressed and not stretched. I've had a lot of company this week--last batch tomorrow--which means I've been on my feet and my low back hurts. Yoga was almost painful but I trust helpful.
Reading back blogs has been interesting--I find that I didn't used to feel obliged to post on my blog every night, and I may go back to that. My new plan is to post in the mornings, along with doing all other busy work such as yoga. But I'm trying to pull out the blogs that have to do with writing and collect them for a book on a writer's journey--haven't asked the publisher about this, but I shall in due time. My brother wants me to pull out all the blogs about family, and I think what discouraged me on the project was trying to do both at once. So yesterday I started with just culling posts or excerpts from posts that had to do with writing, and I got through about six months. But I have a long way to go--I've been blogging since July 2006.
On a sad note, my oldest son, Colin, and his family had to put their dog down today--a wonderful "island dog" they got as a puppy fifteen years ago on Grand Cayman. He'd had a great life-a Lisa said, he'd lived in three countries and two states--but was painfully arthritic and a malignant tumor had recently been diagnosed. No matter how much you know it's the right decision, it's a hard one to make. And particulary hard on young children--they were showering the dog with love with this morning and giving him more Begging Strips than was probably wise. I like to think he's running on the beach now, just as my Scooby is herding sheep in some heavenly pasture. I've heard it said that when you die, all the dogs you've ever loved are waiting to greet you.
And on a frustrating note, Blogger has changed the way they insert pictures, and I can't add the picture that I wanted to this blog. I wish they would stop "improving" things.

Fridays--end of the week

Jacob is asleep. He apparently took a bad fall in the playground at school today, and though his mom said he had a bruise and not to make a big deal of it, I couldn't see it. But he did keep putting his hand to his forehead. Having not too long ago bruised my own forehead, I understand how he felt. But he was a couch potato from the moment he got here--lay on the daybed and watched DVDs. When I fixed his dinner, he got up, sat at his little table instead of with me, and ate a few bites. Then it was back to the daybed, and I had to chase the cat away from his chicken. I ended up eating his carrots.--I love cooked carrots with butter and a bit of brown sugar. So about eight, I thought I'd brush my teeth, clean my face, and we'd both go to bed early (I napped this afternoon and had the hardest time making myself get up--I swear I could have stayed there all evening!). While I had a mouth full of toothpaste, Jacob appeared in the bathroom, as lively as could be, wanting to discuss many topics. I promptly dripped toothpaste on my sweatshirt which led him to ask, "What happened, Juju?" So we played and cajoled, and I finally got his diaper changed and pajamas on. He didn't want more milk, but he wanted a treat, so I gave him a small bowl of cinnamon toast cereal crisps, which he loves. When I suggested he get the stool and climb into his bed, he did so willingly, but kept waving me away. "No, Juju, no." I stood by in case he tumbled the wrong way, but he tumbled into his bed--rather hard. So now, on the monitor, I can hear him moving around but no complaints.
I got going like a house afire this morning and went to the grocery a little after 7:30--no perishables except tuna salad, which I put in the fridge at work. We had our every-so-often Absolutely Amazing Book Sale today. We get a bunch of damaged books from A&M and sell paperbacks for one dollar and hardbacks for two. There were some really good bargains there, but we didn't sell as many of those as we did our active books in print, which were 20% off. (Considering that if we sell them in a bookstore, we give a 45% discount, this was a deal for us.) We had about twenty people come by, not as many community people as in previous years, but I think we made a bit of money.
Somehow on Fridays I'm always tired. The world has been too much with me this week--dinner guests Tues., Wed., Thurs., and Jacob tonight. Plus my Kindle froze which was a great trauma, though I called their help number and it ws fixed quite quickly. Anyway, I'm looking forward to a lazy weekend. Tomorrow I have nothing to do but one grocery trip and then work on my mystery. I'm really looking forward to it.

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.

The kind of date I hate

I had to stay home today to wait for the AT&T person to install U-Verse on the kitchen TV. All the other TVs in the house are on the system, but the original installation guy ran out of time, so he said, for that last one. So the man was scheduled to be here between 8 and 10--he arrived at 11, after I called to check, and worked until 4. He was really nice, polite, helpful, and all those good things--sincere about doing it right. But he spent a long time trying to take the cable across the attic and down the kitchen wall (and drilled a huge hole in the wall). Then he discovered because the way the house is built, he couldn't get the cable down, so he had to come in through the outside, which leaves a sort of ugly cable wandering around on one end of the counter. But the TV works.
Meantime, I was sort of trapped, juggling work, dog and cat. At one point I had both animals locked in my study with me, and they decided to spat. I think Scoob was playing, but Wywy was serious--good thing he doesn't have front claws. And Scoob got very needy about wanting attention from me, nosing my elbow until I couldn't write on the computer. I actually did get a lot done--mostly writing rejection letters or, as Jim Lee used to say, breaking hearts. I reviewed the month's financial reports and carefully read a short manuscript that I hadn't yet had to time to look at. Working at home gives me time for such things, whereas in the office I'm often distracted by phone calls, questions, emails etc. The result, however, is that I have a book bag full of copies, manuscripts, memos, etc. to be sorted, filed, letters to be mailed, etc. tomorrow. Probably take me all morning.
The evening ended better. Betty and I tried a new restaurant, Buttons. I wasn't crazy about it--struck me as a thirty-ish pick-up bar, and there was a stage where something was going on but I'm darned if I know what. Betty thinks they were giving cowboy boots and maybe a key to the city (I have one of those) to the chef. The dinner we both had was delicious--an appetizer portion of fried oysters on creamed spinach and then on thick, crusty bread. There was something just a tad spicy, probably in the batter for the oysters. One of the restaurant's signature dishes, brought from the chef's previous venue, is chicken and waffles. I can't quite bring myself to try it, but Betty wants to. As she said, you don't put syrup on the waffle.
Tomorrow is another busy day, starts with a meeting, then sorting all that stuff in my book bag, and trying to get some other work done. I guess the first week back after vacation is always hectic, but this has seemed worse than ever, probably due to doctors' appointments and today's work-at-home. I'm glad tomorrow is Friday.

Twelfh Night

Tonight being Twelfth Night, Jordan, Christian, Jacob and I held our usual pine-burning ceremony. I'm sure Jacob didn't know to make a wish, but he loved throwing the pine into the fire and wanted all of them Wrong! It goes from youngest to oldest, so naturally he was first. Then Jordan, Jacob, Jay from next door, and me--naturally mine sort of simmered but didn't burn until Christian kicked it into the flames. Jacob was full of himself--talking, running, throwing himself at people and occsionally throwing things--which is a definite no-no. But we had a good time--I had, over two days, fixed the best meatball recipe I know. It involves mixing all the ingredients by hand, then putting them in the blender, then shaping bigger meatballs then usual and baking them. Yesterday I quit at that point, but tonight I floured and browned them, made a sauce of wine and a bit of tomato paste and let it boil down a bit, then added beef broth and the meatballs. They were really good, and I'm glad to report I have leftovers.
It was a busy day--went to work and struggled like mad to get as much done as possible before 9:45 when I had to leave for a doctor's appt. Came back in time to go to a library lunch. Then did a little more work and came home. I've been working on pieces for my submission of my mystery to a publisher, and I'm going back to that right now.
Happy Twelfth Night to everyone--you can take your decorations down now, if you haven't already done so.

Dogs, food, and I don't know what else

Jeannie sent me an email early this morning (or late last night) forwarding a message that there was a year-old Australian Shepherd male at the local PetSmart, sweet and responsive (aren't they all?), and about to be euthanized if he didn't find a home in a week. I did note it didn't mention manners, training, or housebreaking, and I don't think PetSmart euthanizes but I guess they keep dogs for the Humane Society or something. Anyway I called a friend who has talked about getting another dog and got voice mail, which she never answers; I emailed Colin and got no reply; I emailed the DFW Aussie Rescue Group and got no reply. Finally tonight, I called the store--they didn't know a thing about such a dog, though the guy I talked to didn't sound particularly sharp--asked me if an Aussie was a cat. I swear if I thought the dog was still out there and if I wasn't getting ready to be gone for ten days, I'd have gotten him myself and then worried about how Scooby would feel about a companion. Actually I think he'd like the company--he is happy when his "cousin" Mozby, Jamie's chocolate lab, comes to visit, though Mozby, much younger, lets Scoob be the alpha dog, something I can't imagine since Scooby is so sweet and sort of mild.
Speaking of emails, I guess the flood from that contest I foolishly entered is over--the deadline was 4 p.m. Pacific Time today, which has now passed. Best I can figure from the agent's blog, he got over 1400 responses--and I got every last one of them. One good thing: I learned how to delete permanently from the inbox without having to go to the deleted items box and delete all over again. You hold down the shift key when you hit delete. Everyone one in the world probably knows this except me. Jeannie had tried to tell me once, and I thought it had something to do with clicking twice, which only opened the offending email. Got an email today about a company I'd never heard of that didn't want query letters, only first chapters. I decided I'd had enough of that kind of thing and held the shift key while I deleted.
I overserved myself today. Had lunch with friends at a place where I can't resist the gorgonzola burger, although I almost never eat a burger--ate half, but the big sin was I ate a bunch of waffle fries with ketchup. I know better than that. Took the other half of the burger with me and of course left it in the office fridge. A weekend lunch though. Tonight Betty and I went down the street to Chadra. She had chicken in a vodka sauce--it did look lovely and she raved over it. I had spaghetti with meat sauce--I love their red sauce and, contrary to some places, they're generous with it. So I brought over half of it home for another weekend
meal.
Rushed into work early this morning because I had so much to do. Found I'd already done one of the big projects--getting estimates on a book, communicating with the editorial board for approval, and drawing up a contract. So that put me ahead of the game, and I finished the other big project by ten, managed to collate the corrections on a manuscript so Melinda could get it off to the designer. Went to lunch fairly early and came back for the meeting, which was about a project that looks very promising. A productive day.
Now I'm going to finish that mystery!

Post-party recovery

The other day we ate Sunday breakfast at Ol' South Pancake House, a local institution that Jamie particularly loves. I was reminded of Jordan's wedding day when we ate there. The waitress found out that Jordan would be married that evening and arrived with a single pancake topped with whipped cream and strawberries and a lone candle. As she presented it, she sang, "The party's over . . . ." That's how I feel. The party's over, but the glow lingers on. And for me, my birthday continued through yesterday--the actual day--when the office gang took me to Cafe Aspen, the same favorite place Jordan and I ate Monday. And last night, Jeannie, Betty and I celebrated at Lanny's Alta Cocina, an upscale (to put it mildly) Mexican restaurant--haute cuisine from the amuse bouche to the chocolate whatever that came as the birthday dessert. Betty and I shared rack of lamb, and it was absolutelly delicious.
But I am getting back to work. At the office I've been busy catching up on details and dealing with a load of acquisitions--rejecting some, considering some at length, and asking, so far, for two complete manuscripts and a formal proposal.
At home I've gotten things done too, but it gnaws at me that I'm not back to the mystery. The Guppies listserv (Going to be Published) has been full of peole offering their writing schedules and how to avoid distractions. It makes me realize my schedule is very haphazard most of the time, unless I'm burning with an idea. I wonder if I'm committed enough to the project to really make it happen. On the other hand, if I have a chance to play with grandchildren or have dinner with friends, I hate to pass up the opportunity. Part of my philosophy these days is "Carpe diem!" In that mood, I fixed dinner for Jordan and Jacob tonight--Jacob was in a sweet affectionate mood (grab it while you can!) but he'd had a rough day. Another kid bit him, hard enough to break the skin. He didn't want to talk about it and wouldn't let his mom look at it (I imagine she will at bath time tonight).
Julia Spencer-Fleming is part of my problem, part of the reason I'm not writing (I hope she has one of those services that alerts her every time her name or books are mentioned anywhere on the web). I read the first two of her Clare Fergusson/Russ Van Alstyne mysteries about a month ago and really got wrapped up in them. Then a friend brought me not one but three more, and I've almost been unable to tear myself away for constructive work. Tonight I must polish a column and get it off and respond to a request for a partial manuscript from a publisher--I should be more excited, but all I can think is I want to read tonight. Spencer-Fleming has constructed a wonderful fictional world, and she tells compelling stories. Wish I could write like that.
Excuse me. I'm getting to work.