Phobias and an epiphany

Scooby has phobias--last night he was frightened by the deflating birthday balloon that had detached itself from the playroom ceiling and was floating eerily around the house at waist level. But his real phobia is storms. He must have misjudged this morning, because when a neighbor triggered the light outside my bedroom about six, he was raring and ready to go. Not half an hour later, it was thundering and still ominously dark. Usually he senses these things a couple of hours in advance. This afternoon after our nap--the dog, cat, and I all nap together every afternoon--he refused to go out, though as far as I can tell it's sunny and fine.

But I can sympathize because I have phobias too, lots of them. When the kids were home the last two weekends, my fear of open spaces came back gangbusters. I think just because of general excitement. No one could have convinced me to walk across a parking lot alone--you might as well have asked me to walk across the Dead Sea. I had a mini-panic attack at the thought. If one of the kids held out a hand, I barely touched it but it was enough to get me going, and I crossed whatever lot it was. But if open spaces sometimes scare me, closed in ones always do. And today I had an MRI on my shoulder, which meant going into that tube head first. But I impressed the heck out of myself by walking across open spaces alone with confidence to get into the office and doing very well during the procedure. Okay, I was clutching the panic button, but I didn't use it. Kept my eyes closed, prayed for strength, and practiced some meditation--not as bad as I expected it to be. For one things, it's so noisy, I got intrigued trying to count the different "takes" and listening to the different sounds--at least one was like the beat of heavy metal music. But I did it. The technician was proud of me, and so was I! So tonight I'm feeling strong and confident--which is a wonderful feeling.

And I've had an epiphany or, as my mentor Fred more calmly called it, a significant insight. I finished the Julia Spencer-Fleming novel--finally!--and went back to my own novel, determined to add to it the depth and insight that I found in hers. It didn't work. "Depth" and "insight" are not quantities you can paste into a manuscript with a sentence here and there. I began at the beginning and read again, for the umpteenth time--and found what I'd found before. The story flows--and there's no place to stick in this line or that of deep emotions. I decided my manusript is what it is. I'm not Julia Spencer-Fleming or Deborah Crombie. I'm writing in my voice, from who I am. My stories will appeal--should they ever reach the light of day--to a different audience, but they are me. So now I'm back to it.

My web page is almost ready to post, and I am most excited about it. Watch this space for a url.

Oops. Scooby was right. I got him outside, with a bit but not too much of difficulty, and fed him, gave him fresh water, and cleaned his yard. Ever since I fell on him, he cringes and slinks away when I pick up the pooper scooper to clean the yard. But now there are storms just barely to the west of us. I'll have to go let the poor dear in again.

What a day!

This morning just plain did not start out well. I could barely walk on my right foot, the one the doctor says is probably a slight sprain. Probably I was on it too much this weekend and have what the podiatrist called my Monday "footover" as opposed to a hangover. Then, out of the blue, standing at the sink, I had a rather persistent nosebleed--I've no idea where it came from unless I unconsciously sniffed wrong or something. Finally got that stopped, amidst my hurrying around to get to an early dentist appointment.

The dentist relieved my mind, telling me that yes, there is major work to be done in all four quadrants of my mouth but it's not the desperate case that the earlier dentists made it sound. And peridontal disease? I have a few pockets of minor problems, which they will treat. So while I'm not looking forward to all this work--or the out-of-pocket expense, I'm relieved that I don't have to have every filling in my head replaced.

Then it was on to the office where I tried to concentrate on great books and actually made some good headway--only the mail brought more manuscripts, more work to be considered. Lunch with my mentor cheered me a great deal, and then I slipped home to get ready for dinner guests and have a much-needed nap. I think I'm still a bit exhausted from my two big weekends. Megan and Brandon stayed all day yesterday, though we were pretty much lazy, and we all went out for Mexican food last night before they took off for Austin.

I've been laughing about the differences in housekeeping approaches. When Meg comes home she can always find two or three things that she pronounces "nasty" or "gross." For starters, she's opposed to the whole idea of a house cat, but this time it was the cup I used in the bathroom to brush my teeth--okay, I don't wash it as often as I should and it gets mineral deposits on it--and the rubber gasket lining the door to my washer. I am of course glad to try to meet her standards, but let's be real--this is the child who was rivalled only by her oldest brother for the messiest room in the house as a teenager. And she still doesn't pick up. The dining table may hold some electronics Brandon is working with; the breakfast table has purses, mail, whatever they carried when they came in; dishes may be in the sink, and laundry may be on the couch waiting to be folded. So I've decided Megan cleans and I pick up. We'd make an ideal team but I think we might kill each other before we got to that point. Good thing we love each other a lot.

My friends Kathie and Fran--both from university press publishing--came for supper. When I got up and scurried around this morning, I wondered why I'd planned that for the Monday night after a big weekend--I was so tired. But it was such a pleasant evening and they cheered me a lot. Supper was easy--a platter of chicken strips, grape tomatoes, avocado, sugar snap peas, and grilled nectarine slices (that was delicious). Dessert was Blue Bell ice cream cups and I set the jar of chocolate sauce on the table--really elegant. But we had a good time, laughed a lot, caught up on everyone's families, and talked politics. A lovely, relaxing evening.

Back to that novel! I'm going to be sad when I finish it.

Distraction, Procrastination, and Writing Habits

A big distraction! This is how I'm spending the weekend. Megan and Brandon came from Austin for her 20th high school reunion--who can believe?--and I babysat Sawyer, 4, and Ford, not quite 2. Jacob is the one in the middle. I owe Jordan a fancy lunch, dinner, whatever, because she came over and helped get everyone fed, diapered and pajamed, and all tonight. I know--I used to do it all myself with four, not two, and others would come into my house amazed at the pandemonium amidst which I was, so they tell me, fairly quiet as I explained that 5:30 was the "fussing hour." Hungry, tired babies. But that was almost 40 years ago, and I'm a tad older, a tad less resilient. Still, I did the cooking, Jordan marshalled the kids, and we had an almost sane dinner hour--one biting incident, much jumping on beds which is a no-no in my house. But then we settled down to read and all was well.

The boys are fun, but they are exhausting--and the Austin boys are not as used to being here as Jacob, so Ford cried long and hard before he went to sleep tonight. But I'm loving it, because I haven't known these boys as well as the others, and this has been a great weekend for "bonding." Now they not only know "Gaga" but they know my house, the toys I keep (including the train set I thought was going back to Austin), the animals--"yes, you may give the dog a bone, no, don't touch the cat!" I hope they'll come more often now.

One of the Sisters in Crime listservs has been full of discussions of distractions, and how you prevent them from keeping you from your writing. With all those comments about writing habits, naturally I examined my own. I have, as readers of this blog know, not been writing for over a week--a "big" birthday weekend, recovery from that--cleaning up the details at home, writing thank-yous, generally getting my feet back under me--kept me from writing as did anticipation of this weekend when I would again be distacted. And I've written about the Julia Spencer-Fleming novels that have me so engrossed that I'm neglecting my own writing--like I can't live in two extra worlds at once. But I think there's even something else going on. I think I tend to put my writing on the back burner when I'm not sure where it's going. Yes, I have some notes, but I'm uncertain about what happens between here and there, when it is time to introduce yet another element, am I making the people real enough. The latter is a question the Spencer-Fleming novels make me ask, because her characters are so real to me. I know the cure for this--and it's hard work. Start on page one, read the whole thing over again, make notes, and move on. Even if you move on in the wrong direction, at least its movement. Maybe I'll think about that Monday.

Meantime, I have the last of a novel to finish reading, I think maybe both Sawyer and Ford have gone to sleep--Ford screamed for probably half an hour. I rubbed his back, gave him more milk, told him Mama would be home soon, but he was pretty much inconsolable.

A technological genius--well, sort of

Like many people of my generation, I'm not super smart about computers, remote control programming of televisions, and the like, though I think I do better than some. Still, I've had a spate of disasters--don't they say bad things happen in threes? The other day my TV in my home office, where I religiously watch the news, told me the smart card was not inserted correctly. What smart card? Nobody had touched anything since I turned it off the night before and it was fine. A lengthy phone call to the tech people (I have DISH) determined that the receiver had gone blooey and they would send me a new one, for only $14.95 shipping (isn't it their fault?). It arrived yesterday, and I took one look last night at the directions and threw up my hands--okay, it was late and I'd had a glass of wine. But I'd wait for Brandon, my son-in-law with a graduate degree in computer software, to arrive for dinner tonight. First big glitch: Brandon had a mandatory work meeting at four and they didn't get out of Austin until five or worse. So today I decided to be bold, and I actually disconnected the old receiver and got the new one hooked up. Only two problems: I have one cord left over that I don't know what to do with, and there's no picture. But still, I'm pretty proud of what I did do.
Then last night my wireless mouse stopped working. Not a big deal--I've changed the batteries a hundred times. Only this time, it didn't start working with new batteries. Talked to Brandon, who told me what to do--it didn't work, and I told him I'd wait till he got up here. Well, the poor thing does not want to be hit with all my problems when he walks in the door. I tried his solution again, and then I rebooted--it worked! So that's back in business.
Third one: this afternoon I was fixing lunch and decided to change channel on the kitchen TV. It told me to choose a favorite. Well, my favorite is 5.1 which is the Channel 5 High definition channel, but you can only choose 5, not 5.1 on the remote.5 comes in fuzzy. And every time I try to change it, the TV makes the new one the "fav." I honestly don't want a "fav"--I want all the channels. I've fiddled with it but can't do that one.
So I figure it's win, lose and draw for me and technology.
I had planned a great dinner for the family that won't get here untiil 9 tonight--hot German potato salad (my very favorite), Kosher hot dogs, and three bean salad (already made). I went ahead and made a smaller potato salad for me and had a wonderful dinner. Who knows what I'll feed those boys tomorrow night when Megan and Brandon go to her 20th high school reunion. Jordan and Jacob are coming over to play with the boys and have dinner. Another nice weekend of grandchildren.

Straightening up my life

It's nine o'clock and I've frittered away another day--well, not at the office where I got a lot done, but at home, where I haven't done much. It seems odds and ends took up my day. But I decided this was the final clean-up day from the weekend. So if I saw something that needed to be picked up, moved, put away I did it, rather than putting it off for another time. I emptied the dishwasher--clean dishes for almost 24 hours and I hadn't yet emptied it! I took the clean linens out to the apartment--no I didn't put them on the bed, just got them out there. Put away the gifts that I was at a loss to store and stashed the wrappings for another time. The only thing I didn't find a home for are the two dishes shown here. The one with handprints was made by nine-year-old Maddie--she even used tape to get that green line just perfect. The smaller one was made by five-year-old Edie--that's a bumblebee in the middle. She used to be called Edie-bear and now she's called Beast, but either way it's often shorted to "B." So she thought a bumblebee would be perfect. Both dishes are inscribed on the back, and I'm as proud and happy about them as I can be. But I have to find the perfect, safe, chip-free place to put them--and I haven't found that yet. Otherwise, the house is in pretty good shape. And its blooming with flowers. Jordan arrived Monday with an arrangement of red roses and greens that she said Jacob just insisted on. That same day I got two arrangements from the New York Alters--when I thanked them I said I guessed the florist had goofed but Amy said she had. Didn't think the first order went through. So on my desk is a beautiful and striking arrangement of orange lilies and pink roses. I'd take a picture but I just developed technical difficulties--the wireless mouse and keyboard won't work. The TV in my office won't work either. Thank goodness Brandon, our electronic genius, is coming tomorrow.

For now, I quit.

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.

Family, Friends, and Birthdays

How to say it? Last night was my birthday, and it was a wonderful, wonderful evening. My kids had planned, worked, and schemed to put together a perfect party. Eighty of my nearest and dearest gathered at La Puertita (a former church building with arched ceiling, a nave, and rich atmosphere that is part of the Joe T. Garcia's restaurant complex). Some were people I see frequently; a few, people I haven't seen in a long time. We mingled and visited, the children played--I told people all the children in the room were my grandchildren, until I realized my niece and nephew each had a baby there and my neighbor's children were also there. What struck me most was the party atmosphere--everyone was laughing and having a good time. We went through a buffet line for good Mexican food, and then Colin and Jamie briefly thanked everyone for coming and said, "Thank you for loving our mother as much as we do." Be still, my heart. There were no speeches, northing formal. They had set out a picture album, a guest book, and a computer slide show that rotated throughout the evening. Okay, there were a couple of pictures of me with frizzy hair and a wine jug or some other unattractive attribute but mostly I looked at them and thought what a rich and wonderful life I've led--and while I was never a show-stopper, I didn't look too bad in my prime, though a couple of kind people said I look better than ever now. The group picture above is all of us at our happiest and silliest (darn! I didn't realize how tiny and dark it would come out, and I don't know how to change the size once I've posted it); the other is me with my very protective big brother.

If I was proud of my children, I was grateful for the many many friends who cared enough to come out on a Sunday night, in the heat, to celebrate with me. One couple postponed a vacation trip a day or two to be there, and many others alluded to the times we've had together over the years. It was wonderful to be surrounded by the people that I most value. Of course, I missed the out-of-towners who couldn't come and those who had previous travel plans that kept them away. But I am most blessed with good friends. Yeah, it's been a rich seventy years and looking to get better.

Today I took the day off to reclaim my house and my senses, if I have any left after the high excitement of the weekend. I've had several phone calls about what wonderful children I have and beautiful grandchildren--I couldn't agree more. I've done loads and loads of sheets and towels, and picked up this odd thing and that and returned them to where they should be. Jordan took the day off too, and we had a birthday lunch at our favorite bistro. And then I took a two-hour nap, one of those where I could have kept drifting off if I hadn't been horrified when I looked at the clock.

Tomorrow is my "real" birthday, and I'm going back to work. I was tempted to take the day off, but there's too much waiting to be done. But I will have a b'day lunch with my office group and a b'day dinner with Jeannie and Betty at which we celebrate all three of our June/July birthdays.

And tomorrow I'll also get back to the real world routine, working, exercising, writing--and this blog will get back to being somewhat about writing. I've turned it this weekend into a very personal blog, and I thank you for bearing with me.

Camp Juju

The kids have labeled my remodeled guest apartment Camp Juju, and it's a hit. Last night an overtired Morgan fell down, was instantly pitiful. When asked if she wanted to go home, she said through her tears, "No, I want to go to Camp Juju."

The fun goes on. As you can above, cookie decorating is serious business--Jordan had sprinkles from wall to wall in her kitchen. Running under the hose and sitting in the back yard are serious too. And the picture of me? That's the oldest and youngest of our crew.

We're still having scheduling conflicts this morning. The crew at Jordan's house ate at nine, plan to ride the zoo train at 11. At ten the contingent at my house is waiting for the youngest, a morning napper, to wake up so we can go to breakfast. It is, as Jamie once said, like being in two different cities, and it's the reason I redid the apartment so it will sleep eight. But the babies are still too young. In a couple of years, the schedules should smooth out--but I bet there'll be another baby!

Tonight is the party, and I'm not sure what the kids have afoot. I do know it involves old family pictures, probably showing me at my worst, and this morning when I said I was going to have a bit of cottage cheese (one of my staples) Jamie whirled around and asked, "Did you say cottage cheese?" Then he rushed away as though on an important errand. I admit to much excitement but a little nervousness about the whole affair.

Lazy days on the front porch

Last night everyone was here--eventually. Mel, Maddie, and Edie got stuck in traffice and didn't get here until nine o'clock, long after supper. But the rest of us sat on the front porch, eating watermelon and listening to Neil Diamond played way too loudly. Rednecks.

I am continually impressed by how much all the adults in the family love and look out for their nieces and nephews, with the same degree of affection and attention they show their own children. And the little ones respond by feeling perfectly comfortable and happy, no matter who is holding them, teasing them, chasing them. The party, led by Jacob, migrated from the front porch to the red concrete lions that he likes to ride. It looked like a small army of toddlers, all about the same size, though they actually range in age from four to one. And if the children are having fun being together, so are the dogs. Jamie and Mel brought Mozby, their cocolate lab, and Scooby could not wait to get to Mozby this morning, jumped over a footstool to go stand by the playroom door where Mozby waited on the other side.

Of course today it's a complicated question of scheduling--when one is napping the others are playing, then when two of the others are used to napping, the morning napper will be up and about and ready for the day. It looks like we won't make it to the pool until late afternoon, which suits me. Then we'll all eat barbecue at Jordan and Christian's.

I am thoroughly enjoying them and doing better than ever at not sweating the small stuff. Last night I put dinner on the table, told everyone it was there, and decided if it got cold before they ate, it was their own fault. And a few dishes in the sink? I'll get to them when I can. No need to do them right now. Write? Read? What's that. Haven't done it in two days. Barely remembered to water the plants and dogs.

Company Weekend

All my kids will be home this weekend. They'll celebrate my 70th with a party Sunday night at a local Mexican favorite--Joe T.'s. They've rented a separate small building the restaurant owns and have invited lots of my nearest and dearest. I'm excited about it, so excited that I've decided I'm wound tight and that accounts for my recent lack of balance, a fear I'm now letting go of. And tonight, the first of the family arrived--Colin and Lisa, Morgan and Kegan. Morgan is just old enough to remember that she's been here, likes it, knows me, etc. For Kegan, I'm unexplored territory, though we snuggled on my bed while he had his bottle and he gave me lots of smiles and a kiss when he went to bed. Both kids thought my playroom was a delight--toys that while many times recycled were new to them. I hadn't expected the kids so early, so I rushed and defrosted bison ribeyes (medium report--gristly but flavorful, not as juicy as a beef steak). And I meant to make two King Ranch casseroles tonight, then decided I'd just cube the chicken, and got none of it down. My new resolve is not to worry about things like that. Lisa will help me, and we'll get it done tomorrow. I'm certainly not going to start cutting up three chickens at ten o'clock at night!
I was thinking about frugality today. With the state of the economy, rising gas prices and grocery bills (would you believe I spent $170 today?), everyone is feeling frugal--except me. For the first time in my life, I'm indulging in the little things--the slightly better wine, the bigger package of something, the shoes I really want even if I don't need them. And if it's for my grandkids? Well, why not two packages of ice cream cups instead of one? I bought makings for smoothies and makings for a trail mix type of snack, and I bought some new little toys for the playroom--self-inking washable stamps, crazy colors, and so on. It's a wonderful feeling to think that if I want something I can buy it--within limits of course but without the frugality that has governed my whole life. Oh, sure, I've wasted a lot of money along the way--bad purchases, bad investments, but don't we all? And no use crying over that. I think my motto today, in view of my non-frugality and my kid-filled weekend, is "Carpe diem!"
Tomorrow, pictures of the babies.