Retirement is busy

For years, I put off retirement because I was afraid of waking up in the morning and thinking, "Omigosh, what am I going to do today?" Everyone told me that I'd be busier than ever but I couldn't believe it. Last night I told my brother there just aren't enough hours in the day, and he said, "I hate to be one of those people who says I told you so, but I did." So he did--and so did many others. And it's proving true.Yesterday I was a day late and a dollar short all day, so much so that I forgot to bring up my garbage carts from the curb last night and am indebted to my neighbor, Sue, who sent her kids to do it for me.

This morning I was at the office at 8:00 for meetings until 9:45 and spent the rest of the morning working there, until an 11:30 lunch with a friend's brother who has a background in publishing and is interested in the press directorship when it's posted. I couldn't give him any encouragement but I did tell him how the press operated, and he told me where his strengths were. He could well be a viable candidate, and besides that we had a pleasant visit and lunch.

Came home, did emails, slept for an hour, and boom! Jacob was here, which was almost a vacation. He was NOT in a good mood--storms scare him, and he arrived in the middle of one, plus he was tired after a day at school. When he demanded a second cup of milk, I told him his dinner was on the table. He whined and cried and said he didn't want his dinner--he wanted milk. So I ate by myself and pretty soon asked if he didn't want his supper (big deal--pbj sandwich) and he came and ate quite cheerfully. After tht the evening got better, and he was more fun, but mostly he preferred to watch TV, so I got to read. When he left I spent an hour spitting out email after email for the office, and now I'm tired and ready to call it quits. But I'll read for a bit more. There are so many good books out there to read--but I have to clear out my shelves. they're ridiculous, with books stacked every which way. Here's a picture of the sloppily overcrowded shelves in my office--they're the worst, but there are bookshelves, filled to capacity thoroughout my house. Someday, I'm going to reluctantly part with some books. It was one of my retirement resolutions. But not soon.

Weight Watchers, geriatric medicine, and the president's health care speech

Yesterday I really blew my Weight Watchers points by having one egg, one piece of toast, and a bit of butter for breakfast, then a half tongue sandwich for lunch (tongue is really high in points, but I do love it). In the evening I had a really low point supper--a bit of smoked salmon (low points), and hearts of palm, grape tomatoes and blueberries (no points). But today I ate much more and came in one point under my daily allowance: went to the TCOM retirees luncheon with Charles and had a small piece of really good, moist, tender chicken, roasted veggies, and salad (of course I dropped a piece of lettuce, dripping with dressing on the front of my white shirt and wore a stain the rest of the luncheon). Tonight I had a Hebrew National hot dog (no bun) with kraut, German potato salad, and pea salad. If you just put pea salad in the Weight Watchers search it comes up with a lot of points, assuming it has cheese and egg yolk in it, so I listed it by ingredients--egg white only, no cheese, peas, a pinch of dry mustard, a tiny bit of sweet pickle relish and a fourth tsp. of mayonnaise. It was delicious and no damage to my diet.
At the retirees luncheon today, a geriatric physician spoke about the new grant the osteopathic college had gotten to infuse geriatric training into all four years of medical school, residency programs in all specialties, and continuing education for practicing physicians. She talked abut the tsunami of elderly that will hit with the baby boomer generation. I thought I was too old to be a boomer, but they say it covers people born from 1936 to, I think, about 1960, so I squeaked in. The main speaker, however, was her husband, an administrator who specializes in geriatric studies. He emphasized two things: life style and financial arrangements. Apparently we elderly live longer according to our lifestyle choices--movement, diet and exercise, involvement in activities, etc., and we live better if we have planned ahead and made good financial arrangements. He urged people to test-drive their choices--don't sell your house and move into assisted living; keep the house and try assisted living for two or three months. Made good sense to me. It was a long program, but most interesting. He was good, too, at audience involvement, asking everything from how long people had been retired to did they regularly use email. Charles said he did, and I told him he was a cheat.
It was interesting tonight, after that luncheon, to listen to the president's address on health care. I admit I'm not savvy on all the issues, but he sure made good sense to me. Once again, I'm reduced to saying I don't understand it all, but I know something has to be done, and his plan is the best option I've yet heard. I was amused to see that Michelle Obama wore a bright pink outfit--you could easily spot her in the visitors' gallery. But both Hillary Clinton and Nancy Pelosi had on bright red pant suits, so they too really stood out. But don't they know red is the Republican color? I'm not sure but tonight I didn't see as many Republicans sitting on their hands as usual when the Democrats stood to cheer--oh, sure, there were some. I'll be interested to see the feedback from what is called the make-or-break speech in the next few days.

Quick and easy dip

This is the dip that I made for our block party. You just dump all the ingredients into a bowl and mix--be warned, it takes a very large bowl. I used the one I knead bread in.

16 oz. jar salsa--you can use mild, medium, or hot, depending on your taste--I used medium chunky Pace salsa (okay, I've been influence by the Pace ads on TV)
24 oz. sour cram--arghh! Use light sour cream
Small red onion, chopped
1 bunch fresh cilantro leaves chopped--(have you noticed how when you chop them in the blender they go all over the kitchen and you find bits of cilantro for days?) Save out some for sprinkling on top to make it look pretty
1 8 oz. pkg cheddar, shredded (I hate that pre-shredded stuff; use a grater and shred it--it doesn't take long)
15 oz. can black beans, drained and rinsed
Tortilla chips

My own note says to cut this in half because it makes enough for Cox's army, but I ignored it Sunday night and made the full recipe. Threw half of it away today (and there were about 15 people at the party) because sour cream dips don't keep well. I had hoped it would keep for this weekend when all but one of my girls come with their children. No way. It didn't taste good the next day.
So now I'm worrying about weekend men to feed four women and five children--most won't be here Friday and those that are will get hot dogs; Saturday I'll fix turkey tacos. Not inventive, but good for children. And my vegetarian granddaughter can have all the taco stuff except the turkey.
Meantime I overate today--an egg with toast for breakfast, half a tongue sandwich for lunch (tongue has lots of Weight Watchers points), and a conservative supper of gravlax, grape tomatoes, and hearts of palm. Too late by that time--the point damage was already done!
Got some work done today for the office, both at home and at the office, finished Bordeaux Betrayal by Ellen Crosby (I like her wine books), had lunch with an author, and am now ready to settle down with a manuscript to read for the press.

Osteopathic Medicine

Today I finally got serious about the chapter I am to contribute, called "Humble Beginnings"--and believe me, they were humble--to the 40-year history of the Texas College of Osteopathic Medicine. Reading the 20-year history, which I wrote, obviously 20 years ago, took me on a real trip down memory lane. As the preface says, I was born into the "osteopathic family" as was my brother: when we were kids we could count 18 D.O.s in the famiily--uncles, fathers, even a cousin or a cousin married to one. John's father was one of four brothers who studied osteopathic medicine; my father was the president of the Chicago College of Osteopathic Medicine for 40 years. No wonder I married an osteopathic student! People today still ask me what osteopthic medicine is, which astonishes me in this day and age. Basically (and if John is reading this i hope he thinks I got it right) it's a system of healing developed by Andrew Taylor Still in the nineteenth century in Kirksville, Missouri. Still discovered, according to legend, that a headache would ease if he lay sideways in a hammock, with his head hanging over the edge and the border of the hammock putting putting pressure on the back of his neck just under his skull. Eventually he came to the theory that many bodily ills were the result of misalignment of the body, hence osteopathic manipulation (of which chiropractic medicine is an offshoot). The theory has been refined over the years, and osteopathic physicians are now trained in all the sophisticated specialties of medicine such as surgery, neurosurgery, orthopedics, and on down a long list (look at the phone book of any large city). Unfortunately, manipulative medicine has disappeared from the repetoire of most D.O. physicians, although that was John's specialty toward the end of his practicing years--he's now ten years or so retired. Theoretically, though, the osteopathic emphasis is on health as a way of life and treating the body so as to achieve maximum well-being rather than treating the disease. Aha! Preventive medicine, which M.D.s came to late in the game.
Back to TCOM--as I reviewed my earlier book, I ran into all kinds of memories and people now gone--George Luibel, who had the idea of a Texas college in the 1960s and the vision to make it work, enlisting two other doctors as co-founders; there was a saying going around in those days, "Let George do it"--and he did! Legislative work, dealings with the American Osteopathic Association, all those things. He was also a good friend of my father's and the man I went to when my back hurt--I can still hear him demand, "Who in the hell taught you to sit that way?" when he discovered me in his waiting room with my feet twisted around each other--his motto was "Eyes and toes in the same direction all the time."
And Ray Stokes, the pr man who was the college's first employee, and did all the organizational work; Dr. Henry Hardt, the first dean, a wonderful man who faced doing what few have done--building a medical school from scratch--and did it with a sweet dispoisition but a German hard-headedness. My good friend Dr. Mary Lu Schunder, who taught anatomy to twenty students that first year in a garage appartment.
I am not really a part of the osteopathic community these days. I've been divorced from my surgeon/husband for almost thirty years, and many of my friends in the profession have died--though I remain close to a few. Wednesday I'll pick up Charles and we'll go to the TCOM retirees lunch--he likes to take me as his guest, and I see a few people there I recognize from the "old days." I guess I'll always think of myself as part of the community, though the college has now grown to a sprawling campus with several hundred students and faculty. From humble beginnings indeed . . . tomorrow I'll call a couple of friends who were students in the second class and try to interview them over the telephone. I'd put this project off, but now I've got my teeth into it, I'm enjoying it. Memory Lane is a good place to stroll.

Blogs and block parties

Thanks to Krista Davis (The Diva Runs Out of Thyme, The Diva Takes the Cake) I was invited to be guest blogger at Mystery Lovers' Kitchen today to answer some questions about my cookbook (http://www.mysteryloverskitchen.com/) Most of the questions were food-related, but one stumped me and still has me puzzling this morning. Why, with my success and awards as a western writer, did I decide to switch to mysteries? The first part is sort of easy--the market for the fiction I was writing disappeared, the editors with whom I had good relationships moved on, and my agent died--I have never found an agent since and got tired of hearing "You write so well, I wish I could sell it." But why mysteries? Because I love to read them and have read some that I thought I could better. But that's a shallow reason for jumping into a large pond. LIke the world of western writing, authors in the mystery field (Sisters in Crime, Guppies) are incredibly supportive of newbies. But the mystery pond (to stick with my metaphor) is deep and cold--I bet it's no exaggeration to say at least a thousand writers, never published, are trying to get an agent at any given time. Think of all those agents fending off submissions--since I do acquisitions for TCU, I know exactly how they feel. It takes me back emotionally to the days in the late '70s when I never had a book published. Many of my fellow Guppies (Going to be Published) make a science out of querying--sending out fifty queries, keeping careful charts of queries, rejects, requests for partials or, blessed moment, a full manuscript. Even then, contract offers are the exception and a cause for great rejoicing among all. Attending cons (conventions) and the like is a good way to meet agents, but it may result in merely a polite request, not one that the agent takes seriously. I've about decided cold querying agents who know nothing about you is an exercise in futility--maybe I lack the persistence that I hear so much about. I had hoped my credentials as a western novelist would transfer but they seem to carry no weight in the mystery world.


Will I give up, with one mystery completed and in the hands of of a small publisher for eight months now and the sequel ready for revision? No, I won't give up, but I don't have the fire in my belly that I did when I started this, and I welcome other projects that take me away, like the cookbook. I did query the publisher in late June and was asked for more time. I would query again but a couple of weeks ago my horoscope said to be patient and not ask a question I might not like the answer too! Wonder how long horoscope advice holds true?

Jacob continued in his exuberantly cheerful and energetic mode this morning, and every time he said "I want" and I got up to get what he wanted--more milk, another waffle, to peepee--my feet ached like anything. He was so cheerful and happy I couldn't complain, and he's far too young to say, "So go get it yourself." So I hobbled on sore feet. At one point he told me he loved Wywy, and I said, "You're so noisy you scare Wywy." He said with a sad look on his face, "I'm not noisy. I'm a good boy." I assured him he was, but his happy noises scared her.

Tonight I truly didn't want to walk two blocks, over rough sidewalk, to the block party--Jay said it was only four houses away, but that's not true. Anyway, he gallantly offered to drive, so off we went and had a great time. It was fun to meet neighbors I never knew, though one knew Jordan and another knew I was at TCU, so as always there are not six degrees of separation in Fort Worth. Everyone brought appetizers, and I ate sparingly, thinking they would not do my diet any good. We sat and visited, though I was fidget-y and ready to go home--it was 10:30 before I got home. I'm not used to staying out that late!

Mr. Sunshine and a lazy, reading day

Jacob has had some rough days lately, working through something in his little head. But tonight he was Mr. Sunshine, cheery, playful and happy from the moment he walked in. He was excited about his new big boy bed, which he has laden with so many toys there's barely room for him. Periodically during the evening, he would disappear and go to his bed. He was reluctant to actually go to sleep tonight but we made a game (and a song of "Time to go to bed") and he went happily. I haven't looked to see if he's asleep, but I don't hear a peep on the monitor.
Some months ago I noticed that when I turned on my computer I got a picture on the remote monitor but not on the laptop, and I was used to having both. I asked Brandon, but he said it was hard to tell long distance. Not a big deal, since I could still see what I was doing on the remote, which is preferable. Tonight Jacob walked up to the laptop, said, "Your 'puter isn't working," and before I knew it gave it a whack! Guess what--I now have a picture on both screens.
Started the morning by meeting an out-of-town author for breakfast at the grill down the street from my house. Closed. He was waiting in the parking lot. So I said, "Follow me," and led the way to Carshon's deli, my mouth watering for lox and eggs. Closed. So I took him on one more drive (he later claimed he enjoyed the tour) and we ended at Ol' South, where he had a Dutch baby (Jamie's favorite) and I had--oh, splurge!--a blueberry waffle. I'm afraid to count my points for the day, though I had tuna salad and just a bit of potato salad for lunch and for dinner, sauteed scallops, tomatoes and sliced mushrooms--and didn't eat it all. I felt sort of efficient as I fixed two entirely different suppers in about 25 minutes--blueberries, cheese toast, cottage cheese, and green peas for Mr. Sunshine, and my saute plus a bit of reheated squash casserole. Jacob ate all but the cheese toast--apparently his mom doesn't cut it into strips and he wasn't willing to try when I did. I relented anyway and gave him a treat--a half piece of chocolate-banana bread Elizabeth had brought. Forgot how much mess a three-year-old can make with chocolate. He insists now on cleaning himself up, so it's sort of a half-job.
Between breakfast, Barnes & Noble, and the grocery store, I spent the day reading and napping. Lovely. I finished Wormwood by Susan Wittig Albert and have started The Bordeaux Betrayal by Ellen Crosby. Tomorrow night watch for my guest blog at Mystery Lovers' Kitchen. I was scheduled to be a guest later in the fall but they had an emergency, a guest blogger they couldn't find, so at 5:00 I saw an email asking if I could do it by 10:00 (which I think is 9:00 our time). Jacob cooperated beautiully, sitting in my office while I answered the blog questions, so I sent it off by six o'clock.

A food post

Do you remember how good hot dogs are? I rarely eat them, thinking they're not on my diet, but tonight Jordan and Christian and Jacob came for dinner and I grilled Hebrew National hot dogs and made German potato salad. Christian walked in and said, "My favorite potatoes." The hot dog tasted soooo good, with Dijon, kraut and a whole wheat bun. And it wasn't that many Weight Watchers points. One night, months ago, I was having neighbors in for a hot dog dinner, and I have lots of Hebrew National left in my freezer. I'll start eating them now.
The reason for this dinner visit was to fix Jacob a "big boy" bed in what he considers "his" room--my guest room. It messes up the arrangement of furniture, but I hope it will only take a few months before he can sleep on the trundle bed in the famiily room--we stole the mattress for his big boy bed. He seemed thrilled with it. We'll see tomorrow when he comes to spend the night. Ever since he's slept in a big boy bed at home, he has quit the tantrums and trashing the room. I face tomorrow with a bit of trepidation.
Today was a day when I was a day late and a dollar short all day--a haircut, errands to the TCU library, the vet and the grocery took me all morning. Then I came home to watch a webinair on the Google Book Settlement--and ended, as I always do, more confused than ever. I seemed to have a lot of odd ends and bits on my desk to take care of. So tonight I'm going to read that book I keep trying to get back to.
The furor over President Obama's address to school children amazes me, although Christian said tonight that the same thing happened when George W. Bush made the same address early in his administration--has my memory become partisan? I don't remember that at all. But I am appalled by the outrage. My son Jamie put it well on his post on Facebook, saying he thought it was time for that kind of outreach from the White House. Last Sunday on the George Stephanopoulus show George Will, the arch-conservative, was asked a question (about health care, maybe?) which he side-stepped by saying, "We conservatives believe that things are the way are for a reason." Implicit in that, to me, is a resistance to change, when I believe, with many others, that change is healthy and the only way we can move ahead. Is our health care system in trouble? Absolutely. Is the proposed legislation the right answer--who can know, but you have to start somewhere.

A writer in the famiily and yoga for wimps like me

Today, when I checked phone messages after my nap, there was a breathless message from Maddie, ten years old and my oldest grandchild. Her teacher last year had submitted a shape poem she wrote (around a musical note) to a company that does anthologies of children's poetry, and Maddie just got word that hers would be published, probably next January. When I called back, her mom said that after jumping up and down in excitement, the next thing she did was to say, "I have to call Juju!" I was approriately proud and happy for her when I called back--my goodness, the thrill of publication at the age of ten. The anthologies are sold to libraries, but she assured me would could buy copies. I will have to tell her that I was about her age when I wrote my first short stories--my mom saved them, and I swear I have them someplace, but I wish I knew where. I can still tell you--and do sometimes tell audiences--what the stories were about. Meantime, I'm excited for Maddie. She's a wonderful student--said today yes, she's getting all As in 5th grade--and still such a sweet and loving girl. The girls in that family are coming for our girls weekend the 12th, and Maddie promised to help my babysit.
Jeannie was telling me about a new, young, temporary yoga instructor in the class she takes. She makes them do the table position--from what I know you bend your knees, put your arms down, and lift your torso flat like a table. But then the instructor had them raise on leg straight in the air and hold it for one minute, then extend it for one minute. I will never achieve that and decided I do yoga for wimps, though Elizabeth always tells me, "If it hurts, don't do it." My muscles no longer quiver, except for my legs on down dog. Elizabeth recently had me increase my program to include the mermaid position, the breast stroke (like swimming on the ground) and supine walking. And some days when I do my yoga I am truly worn out. But the table with a leg raised? I don't think so.
Went to a staff meeting today and came home loaded with so much work that my plans to finish that mystery went out the window. I'm now reading the first pages of a manuscript and liking it, but that's an acquisitions problem. Once again, retirement is not dull!

Jacob in transition

I may have to write a novel with that title. Jacob's father tells me earnestly that the child is in a real period of transition. My diagnosis is that he never went through the terrible twos, so now he's doing it at 3 years, 3 mos. For the past two nights, he has climbed out of his crib (well, I've been saying he should be in a bed) and trashed his room; one night he threw a full-fledged tantrum. I asked about something hurting him, bad dream, and Jordan said no, it was a pure tantrum. So tonight he sleeps in a big boy bed--a mattress on the floor. I was keeping him tonight and Jordan arrived with sweeping orders about how we'd have to rearrange the guest room, move the table (I have no place else to put it), etc. So Friday they're coming to do all that, and we'll put the mattress from the trundle bed in the guest room against one wall. But I had a good taste of Jacob's transition tonight--when they left he screamed and clung to them, would not be held back. They finally made it out the door, and I would venture Jacob screamed for the next twenty minutes (I want my mommy, I want my daddy, I want my Addie--a friend who was with them). I pretty much ignored him. Trying to quiet him, his mom had given him a lollipop and when he finished he sweetly handed the stick to me. Then he announced he wanted another lollipop. I told him I didn't have any, and we were about to eat dinner. If he ate a good dinner (which he didn't) he could have ice cream (which he didn't get). Then he began to scream all over again, and I once again went about the business of fixing supper and ignoring him. He didn't want his supper, but finally came to the table, looked at some squash I'd sauteed and anounced it was yucky. I think he ate one bite of chicken loaf and a few blueberries, but his disposition was better. Throughout the evening, however, he reminded me that he loved his mommy, his daddy, and his Addie but not me. Of course by the time he left I got a sweet hug and kiss and when he was in the car, we had an "I love you!" contest--he considers it a challenge to see who can yell it the loudest. When he left, I felt like I'd been through a tornado, and I'm not nearly as excited about keeping him Saturday as I usually am. This too will pass.
Otherwise the day had one hight point--a lovely lunch on the patio at Ellerbe with my friend, Fred--and one low point--a long dental cleaning appointment. The hygeniest said I had bad staining; I protested I drink one cup of coffee a day and no tea. Suddenly she asked, "Do you eat blueberries!" and I had to confess that I eat a lot of them. So there's the culprit. But as Fred said, he's not giving up blueberries to prevent staining his teeth--me neither.
One good aspect of Jacob's visit was that he finally settled down to watch TV, so I could read Wormwood, the Susan Wittig Albert novel I've been trying to read for days but only fitting in bits and pieces. That's how I'm going to spend the rest of my evening.

A day to bask in

This morning was my official retirement reception at TCU. I had to be dragged kicking and screaming into this. I told my boss, June Koelker, dean of the library, that I did NOT want a reception. She finally told me she would be criticized if she let me retire, after 28 years with the press and 22 as director, without a reception. So I said okay, how about a morning coffee, which somehow seemed less pretentious to me than an afternoon tea. (Susan asked this morning where the mimosas were!) Susan and Melinda picked me up at home and delivered me to the Kelly Center. And you know what? It was a wonderful affair. There were people there I didn't expect, a lot of TCU people but a lot from outside the university. I was flattered beyond belief. June, who had insisted on this event, was home with the flu--probably swine flu, since we have an outbreak of it on campus, and the provost was kind enough to come but couldn't stay long because the board was in town, so Jim Lee got to be emcee. Well, now, that's another thing--I could have done without a formal program. But Jim called randomly on people to speak extemporaneously, people like Fred Erisman who told Jim he was definitely not going to speak. But they all said lovely and kind things about me--okay, Jeannie told the story about the time I watered her fake phicus tree--and I am in danger of getting the big head. Many brought cards, which I have put in the memory book the kids started for me, and Susan brought the most lovely emboidered guest book which everyone signed, so I have momentos of the day. I got lots of hugs and good wishes and had to explain over and over again that this really was the last time I was retiring, and that I had resisted because I was afraid of waking up in the morning wondering what i'd do with my day--which has not happened so far at all, far from it. Jordan came, although she had to leav early, and endured people who said the last time they saw her she was--and they would make a gesture low to the ground. Someone said, "I never knew she would turn out so pretty," and I said, "Neither did I the first time I saw her." She makes a lovely impression and is so gracious to people--my friend Mary Lu, now distant in Dallas, once said, "Jordan makes you feel like you're the person she's been waiting all day to see." I was sorry none of my other kids were there, but I understand the distance problem. I did display a copy of the cookbook (shameless promotion) and had some of my cookook business cards on hand. I am grateful to June for insisting, and to Susan and Melinda for making it happen, and to Susan for the kind words she said about me and the press.
Afterwards, Jeannie and I ran an errand--she needed to stop at a stationery store and since I actually need new informals, it was a good opportunity. Then we ate an early lunch of sushi. This evening, Betty and I went to Cafe Aspen and I had a hamburger, sans bun. Still, I'm way over on points already for the week. I'm beginning to despair of this diet business.
I am finished with the cookbook, at least for now, and can turn my mind to other projects--next is a 3500-word chapter on the beginnings of the Texas College of Osteopathic Medicine (another pro bono job) but today I actually picked up a paying editorial job from Texas Tech Press. So no, I won't be waking up wondering what to do. Tomorrow, a dental appointment (cleaning only, thank goodness) and lunch with Fred, then Jacob in the evening. No, retirement isn't boring at all. I keep trying to find time to read the book I'm in the middle of!