Judy Alter's Blog, page 331

A boy and a dog and thoughts on book clubs

I'm particularly proud of this picture because seven months ago Jacob was scared of Scooby--who is the sweetest dog in the world. But Sophie came into our lives, jumping and nipping with puppy teeth, and Jacob somehow decided Scooby was safer. Now he lies down on the floor with either of them. Sophie climbs all over him, licking, and he just giggles. I was afraid of dogs when I was very young--my parents mistakenly told me a Scottie snapped at me when I was an infant. But then my brother brought home a sweet but wild collie mix named Timmy (female). I loved that dog and have loved so many dogs since--and grieved over more than I care to count. I can't imagine living without a dog. My other grandchildren are comfortable with dogs, ranging from strong affection to mild interest, and I wanted Jacob to be a dog person.
My Sophie experiment was selfish, granted--I wanted one of the "doodle" breeds, but I also wanted Jacob to have a puppy, at least part time, and I wanted a companion for Scooby. Sophie (my private name for her is Wild One) has done her job admirably--Jacob is at ease with all the dogs in the family and Scooby is much livelier.
Tonight I was a guest author at a neighborhood book club. Berkeley, I've discovered, has at least two book clubs plus a number of residents belong to a third one. I"ve spoken to the other two about Skeleton in a Dead Space, but I suspect tonight's was the longest-running group, together since 1982--thirty years. Remarkable. One woman had kept a record of every book they've read--but now she can't find it! I knew everyone but one member, and the evening was lots of fun. Most women who care enough to join a book club are bright, interested, and conversational, though talk often wanders from the book under discussion. Tonight I gave them some insights into writing though not what they expected--I am not a disciplined writer who locks herself in the office for at least four hours every day. Even in retirement, there's too much going on. I write when I can, and I admit circumstances make a huge difference: when I have no interest from a publisher, I'm likely to procrastinate; when I have deadlines, I'm much more dedicated. Right now I'm editing, with a fairly distant deadline, so it doesn't seem urgent; when I start a new manuscript I work more consistently at my writing.
I'm also realizing the term cozy mystery is not in general use, nor are plotter and pantser, so it's always fun to explain those terms. And the idea of self-publishing, an agent hunt, searching for a publisher--all the things part of my daily life--are foreign to these devoted readers. I kind of described stages of my career, from the '80s and '90s when I had an agent to the long dry period and then today, when I am happily settled with a publisher who is interested in building my career and in future books in the Kelly O'Connell series. I'm lucky to have found this publishing home--after writing for thirty-five years. Hope I can write  untl I'm ninety or more!
They cut the water off on my street for water repair at three today. I got two warnings that it would be off until midnight, so I stocked up on water, used almost none of it. And lo and behold, it was on when I got home at 9:30. Guess I'll water plants tomorrow with all that stored-up water.
A busy but good day. Tomorrow, house guests.

High times in Frisco

Last night all of the Alters plus many friends gathered at the Londoner in Frisco to suprirse Jamie with a celebration of his fortieth birthday. Jame is rarely blindsided--but he was this time. As he topped the steps to the second-floor private room where we waited, his eyes widened and he pulled back in surprise, effectively taking a part of the stair railing with him. My blog of Wednesday about how I wished we could celebrate was a red herring--devised by Colin and Melanie--to throw Jamie off the track. I dont think he even got that part but he was surprised. Not only his family, but his cousin, some high school friends, neighbors, employees and people I have no idea about.
We dined on chicken and beef satay and shepherd's pie--his absolute favorite.
Jamie is a triathlete, and Mel got the absolutely perfect cake for him. Top layer red velvet, middle layer white cake, and bottom chocolate, all covered with rich butter cream frosting. (Blew my diet, especially the chocolate piece I had at breakfast!) We had a hard time keeping little fingers from reaching out to swipe at the frosting, but finally Jamie blew out all 40 candles in one breath--no small trick because they were scattered on the various layers of the cake.
At eight or so in the evening, the older girls--Maddie, 12, and Eden, 8--along with Maddie's best friend went home with all the smaller children. I was invited to go but wasn't ready to leave the party. By the time we finally went home, after ten-thirty, I was really ready.
The birthday boy with his brother Colin on the left (who told funny stories about Jamie) and his brother-in-law Christian on the right.
Of course, the Alters had to rehash the evening, and all the young children were still up and going. I finally snuck off to bed at 12:30 but didn't sleep well--too far past my bedtime and too much wine and  food.
Hats off to Mel who put the whole party together--we got there early to be "on duty," but she had clearly been there with candles, flowers, tablecloths, a cake server--she thought of everything. And after a late night, she was up early this morning and off to the grocery to put together breakfast for seventeen. A true gift of love to my son--from a multi-talented young woman whom I love a lot.
This morning after breakfast everyone wanted to do something "fun." Do you have any idea how long it takes to organize seventeen people?  We finally left the house about 11:45 and of course had to go eat again. Then we went to Main Event--the kind of place my children and grandchildren love and I deplore (Mel is on my side, as she always is when everyone wants to go skiing). Video games, bowling alleys, pool tables, loud, loud, loud. I found the bar, which was relatively quiet, and had a glass of wine, read emals and Facebook. Jamie was astounded that I didn't want to play games. We were probably there not much over an hour but it seemed forever. We headed home but when we were almost back to Fort Worth, Megan and her family were still back in Frisco--and they had to drive to Austin. Colin left when we did for the long drive to Houston.
It's always an amazing delight to me to be with all my family. I am so blessed. But it's also always so good to be back home, sort myself out, unpack and get into my comfortable world. And this time I have the joy of knowing they'll all be back in three weeks for the Southwestern Live Stock Show and Rodeo.
I think my dogs were glad to see me.

The Further Adventures of Sophie

This morning I was sitting at my desk when I heard purposeful strides on the front porch and a determined knocking at the door. I opened it to find neighbor Jay with his dog and Sophie prancing around them having the time of her life. Jay had to bring Pearl inside to get Sophie in. I slammed the door, grabbbed Sophie by her coat and then got her collar, and thanked them as they slipped out the door. Sophie seemed delighted with herself and her grand adventure. She's lucky Pearl is more friendly on a leash than she is through a locked gate or a screen door. Turns out someone had forgotten the special latch on the dog yard, both dogs got into the driveway, and Sophie merrily slipped under the electric gate. I fixed it and returned them to their yard. If I'd found her gone, I would have panicked--and called Jay!
Sophie is so smart--and sometimes so easily duped. She is definitely an independent wild one. When I call her to come, she looks at  me. We have a stare-down, and she looks like she's considering. But if I either start toward her or turn away, she bounds over to me. She has endless energy for jumping at Scooby andd running circles in the yard, and yet when I leave her alone in the office, she generally lies still and watches for me to return (okay, there have been a few destructive incidents, like the time she chewed a bunch of old family pictures or the time she got on my desk, all four feet, and scratched great lines in a picture of Morgan so that the poor child now looks like she's sprouting whiskers!). When she's in her crate, Sophie never makes a sound, though I can hear her move around in the early morning. Never whines or barks. And if I love on her, she'll sit at my feet all day. She is truly one bundle of love and mischief all wrapped up together.
Today is day 7 of watching my diet more carefully. I have not rejoined Weightwatchers, but I am trying to apply the general principles of one protein and lots of fruit and veggies. For lunch I had tuna salad made mostly with vinaigrette and a touch of mayo (lowfat) and mustard. Pretty good. Along with cherry tomatoes and a deviled egg--that may have stretched the point. But in the last week, I've had chocolate once--anchovies got to me last night and I had to balance the taste--and I've done yoga six days in a row. Color me smug. No, I haven't weighed to see how this is working out.

On Becoming a Recluse

I'm afraid I'm becoming a recluse. I"ve essentially stayed home the last three days with no human company except Jacob after school and his mom's breezy quick visits to pick him up. Did eat dinner with Aunt Betty last night--Jacob was a bit offended he wasn't going. We went to The Tavern on Hulen, and if you live in Fort Worth and haven't been there, I heartily recommend it. I've loved everything I've had. Last night, it was a Maytag blue cheese burger (shades of my mom, who loved Maytag) cooked just the way I like it--charred on the outside, really pink on the inside. Brought half of  it home for lunch today and it was even better.
Back to the recluse business: I forced myself to go to the grocery this morning, a necessity, but sent last-minute regrets to join two friends for lunch. I was just too comfortable being home. I've spent the days checking final edits on No Neighborhood for Old Women and filling out an art sheet about the cover--I do wish I had an idea, let alone an inspiration about how the cover should look. I love the cover of Skeleton in a Dead Space and hope this one will be as wonderful.
I've also been reading Lucy Burdette's first novel in her Key West culinary series, Appetite for Murder. I really want to write a culinary mystery--have one in the works but need to work more food into it. Meantime, I enjoyed this one thoroughly--mention of conch fritters brought back the days when we visited Colin and Lisa in the Caribbean.
What I didn't do: taxes. I keep eyeing all the records I've collected over the past year with distaste.
It was particularly easy to stay home because two days this week the weather was cold and rainy. Today, it was cold but sunny and gorgeous. One friend posted on Facebook that she had the top down on her car. I wasn't quite that brave.
Being a recluse has its downside: yesterday I read a post on the neighborhood email warning of a new scam whereby a Hispanic man comes to the door to tell you he's doing work for your neighbor and would like to meet you in the backyard to discuss how it will impact your property. While you're in the back yard, his accomplice rifles the house. They target elderly women home alone in the day--hello! that's me! I immediately threw the deadbolt, put on my monitor and felt under seige, all of which Jordan thought was excessive. "You're not going to open the door anyway. Are you?" Betty told me they had hit fairly close to her house, in a neighborhood where I lived many years ago. Today the scam is all over the TV news, so I guess maybe their game may be winding down because lots of people are alert to it. I'm still on the lookout. I think I thought with the monitor I could be the local heroine, press it to call 911, and bring the law before they had a chance to escape!
Today was a good day to hibernate for another reason: no school. I didn't have to plan my afternoon and nap around picking up Jacob at three. Monday is a holiday too, so I have a four day weekend--sort of.
Tonight I have the cleanest drivers license and credit card in town--put them throiugh the washer in my jeans pocket. I'm constantly losing them because I don't like to carry a purse to the grocery--caution again, inherited from my mom, so I put them in my jeans and then forget when I get home. Once this resulted in my standing in line at the airport without my drivers license--my TCU i.d. card got me on the plane but I swear I thought they were going to keep me in El Paso! Some lessons seem hard to learn. Hmmm. I wonder if washing de-magnetized the credit card?
I will get out in the world this weekend, and next week looms busy with a day trip to Granbury, overnight house guests and a dinner party. But I sure have enjoyed these three days, good naps, reading, what retirement should be.

Happy Birthday, Jamie.

James Andrew Alter turned forty today. I'm having a hard time with this. He's my second son, third child. Three now have hit the forty mark. I know all parents feel this way, but it seems only yesterday he was dragging a cat by the tail and saying, "This is muh pet." That cat remained "Muh Pet" the rest of her life and when she once scratched him, I asked, "What did you do to Muh Pet?" Reply: "I hammered her." HIs birthday has set me to thinking about incidents and sayings from all my child-rearing years, with all four children. Happy as I am with my life now, I sometimes long for those days.Yes, they were hectic and I was exhausted most of the time, but we were all five happy people.
When I said by email to Jamie today that I carry a lot of happy memories, he replied that he had a lot of his own. We'll share someday, but I know all my children have those memories. They love to play the game of "Remember the time . . .?"
In the picture above of my family, taklen at my 70th birthday, Jamie is on the far right with his hand on his daughter's shoulder. Colin is in the back on my left and Megan on my right; Jordan is kneeling in front.
We normally make a big deal of decade-changing birthdays but we were all together at Christmas and will be again in early February when everyone arrives for the rodeo and stock show. I'd love to have a gathering of the clan to celebrate Jamie this weekend, but we'll do it at stock show time. I remember one year cooking his favorite meal--prime rib--but there are so many of us now there's no way I could afford prime rib for sixteen. I bet we end up with barbecue or chicken-fried steak or, heaven forbid, tacos from Ernesto's when we do celebrate.
I remember better when my brother turned forty than I do when I did. He and his much younger wife were visiting, and I wrote "40" in shaving cream on every mirror in the house. He lost patience. I won't say how many years ago that was, for fear he'd lose patience again. But I think when I turned forty, it wasn't a happy time in my life. For Jamie, it's a happy, good time with a wonderful family, a good business, an active exercise life, and--always--a bit of trickery and fun. He can still prank call me successfully.
So tonight, I'll raise a glass of wine in toast to Jamie, and he'll raise his Diet Coke back at me from Frisco. And then I'll make a second toast to my three other wonderful children, one of whom thank goodness is still in her thirties--okay, late thirties, but we won't quibble. Oops, I'm getting sentimental here. 'Nuf said.

Life without a computer

My computer went crazy about four o'clock last Friday. The cursor took on a life of it's own, darting all over the screen and ignoring my mouse efforts, both remote and on the laptop. If I did manage to coax it into position, clicking on the close sign did absolutely nothing. I called a friend's computer guru who recommended a shop that seemed halfway to Weatherford to me. Took it in Saturday--and there, oh sob! was a weekend without a computer. I literally live at my computer when I'm home and not doing household chores; I read with the email on; if I eat alone I do so in front of the computer. I start my day with emails and Facebook. OK, I'm a junkie, but this was pretty tortuous.
I made do with the iPhone and the Nook, emailing and reading Facebook on both, and spending a lot of time reading mysteries. Finished Julie Hyzy's wonderful Affairs of Steak, the newest in the White House chef series, and started Lucy Burdette's debut novel, Appetite for Murder, about an aspiring food critic--and a murder--in Key West. Hoped the computer would be back Monday but no such luck.
Monday night, the Nook and the iPhone both ran out of battery at the same time; the Nook takes 15 or 20 minutes before it can power up again, and it had the book I'm reading on it. Five minutes later the TV in my office went out. I was stranded in an electronic wilderness!
Today, I got a great review by Terry Ambrose at http://www.examiner.com/crime-fiction-in-national/skeleton-a-dead-space-would-be-realtor-s-nightmare and I could't print it, etc., a friend emailed to be sure I was not sick (nice that people notice when I'm missing) and another, by phone, said, "No wonder you were so quiet all weekend." I got an email that I have a guest blog due in two days. And I had by today compiled a little list of things to clear up once I got the computer back on.
Hurray! this afternoon Jacob and I drove in one of those cold drizzles all the way out Camp Bowie past Cherry Lane. With my back-roads routes, it was a bit of a journey and a cold one because it's one of those days when the car fogs up and you have to defrost with the a/c. Besides, Jacob complains about the heater, says it smells bad.
There's always, for me, a bit of trepidation when I first re-hook my computer, but all is in order, except of course my GoogleSearch history is gone, there's no list of recently viewed files. Oops, I have to see if all my stored email addresses are gone--so far I've just been replying.
But I'm back in the electronic world and happy about it. Tomorrow, I'm staying home and talking nice to my computer all day.

The gift of a day

This morning I worked myself up to go for a long overdue eye examination. I always hate going to the opthalmologist--don't get me wrong.  He's a good guy, a friend of many years. But reading those charts makes me feel like I'm failing a test, and when he tilts me back and uses those prisms to look deep into my eye I hold my breath lest he say, "Omigosh!" or something equally scary. (Actually a previous eye doctor did say, "I don't like what I'm seeing" which I thought was really poor handling of a patient, especially a nervous one, and I never went back to him.). Anyway, today I had gathered my courage and was changing clothes when the doctor's office called to say he was ill and cancelling appointments for the day. So I got a three-week reprieve for which I am only partly grateful--I'd just as soon get it over with. Actually I'd rather go to the dentist.
But there I was with the gift of a day. I worked at my desk all morning and finished final edits on No Neighborhood for Old Women which will be out in April. In the last read-through I found several small inconsistencies and things that needed explaining or clarifying. I'm sure there are more small points and lots of typos--someone pointed out the typos in Skeleton in a Dead Space to me and I replied honestly that there has never been a book published without a typo. But we all keep trying.
I piddled the rest of the day--groomed Sophie with Jacob's not-very-helpful help (she play bites), watered plants inside and out, did a good yoga workout, forced a stubborn Jacob to do his homework ("No,  you're not sick--don't try that"; next minute he was grinning and trying to play a joke on me.). His attention span is still pretty short, and he wants to be outside playing. But it was a lovely day, an unexpected gift.
Betty and I had supper at The Tavern, a great restaurant that I always want to call The Ranch for some reason. We split their huge BLT salad--good, but there are other things on the menu I like better. Like their deviled eggs and their black beans.
Tonight, though I have a list of things to be done, I'm going to start Julie Hyzy's new book, Affairs of Steak, in her series about a White House chef.
Isn't it nice every once in a while to be handed a free day?

Who's Knocking on my door?

Way back when I was in Girl Scouts--I think that was the connection--we used to get on the church stage and do a skit that began, "'Twas a year ago today/that my Nellie went away/She was sixteen, the village queen/The prettiest girl you ever seen." Each person took a role--Nellie, the father, the wicked lover, etc.--and we  recited this in a singsong manner, accompanied by deep knee bends. It's an indelible memory of my childhood, but I never can remember the rest of the words. The story is of course going to be obvious melodrama--Nellie is lured away by a mustachioed villainous actor; a  year later, she returns home bringing her infant. She has been abandoned. Everyone I asked about this looked at me blankly, indeed I think they thought I was a bit addled.
But last night I found a whole web site devoted to it. The poem or skit or whatever it is bears the title "Who's knocking on my door?" and there are countless variations in the wording. But it's more universally known than I thought. Most people remember it from the '40s and '50s. For me, it was like finding an old friend.
Now if someone could track down the Easter hymn we used to sing in children's choir: "One early Easter morning/I wakened with the birds/And all around lay silence/Too deep for earthly words." MY friend Barbara, who went to church and sang in the choir with me, remembers it but she doesn't know any more words than I do. My friend Betty, now retired after forty years as a church organist, never heard of it--and I thought she knew every possible piece of church music! Google doesn't help. Anyone know that song?

End of the holiday

I spent Christmas Day with my family--eight adults and seven grandchildren. Last night I spent New Year's dinner with my Fort Worth family: Jordan, Christian and Jacob. Sue, who calls me her Fort Worth mom, came by for appetizers and a glass of wine. When Jay and Susan, my neighbors, arrived, they brought wine stoppers--the kind I had asked Jordan to look for. When I said that, Jay said, "We're better kids than she is!" And it dawned on me that this was my Fort Worth family--missing Elizabeth and Weldon, but I'm sure they'll be here soon. We had hoppin john that had quite a kick to it--and I didn't add the jalapeno or the bell pepper. Must have been the Cajun seasoning. The Burtons left soon after dinner, but Jay and Susan lingered, playing with Sophie. We agreed she's a great dog--or will be when she's eighteen months. Today, Susan brought a new Kobo brush over and showed me how to use it--Sophie looked lovely, but was soon rolling in the leaves again. Tonight I looked out and she was lying in the yard like a limp rag doll. I called and she didn't move. So, in stocking feet, I rushed out, got almost to her, and she jumped up and began to run like the Energizer Bunny.
The new year is off to a good start. When I retired I thought I would get to write all day every day, but I soon found life gets in the way. This week, it's a haircut, two lunch dates, a date with a dog trainer, and an eye doctor appt. that I dread--I always feel like I'm failing a test when I can't read some lines on the screen. But today was the gift of an extra holiday. My calendar was absolutely empty, and Jacob did not have school--in fact, he's with his folks, and I haven't even heard from them all day. So I did spend much of the day at my computer and got lots done. Almost through formatting the second Kelly O'Connell novel. But I also had a lovely, lazy nap and did my yoga, took Christmas off the dining table, and mopped the kitchen floor. Now I'm back at my desk.
Tomorrow, the world begins again after a lovely holiday. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did. I"ll be on the porch at 7:55 to hug Jacob and out the driveway at 8:30.

New Year's stuff

Ignore the goofy look on his face--Jacob was posing. But we had a party tonight--cheddar fondue and kid wine (okay, mine was NOT sparkling cider). He came up with a toast that startled me, "Go, Jesus!" I thought, "Why not?" and toasted with him. He kept saying it was the best fondue ever--not sure how wide his comparison base is. I have promised that if he's very good he may stay up tonight to watch the Times Square Ball drop at eleven our time.
If how you spend December 31 is an omen about the coming year, I'm one happy person. I did some cooking--hoppin' john for tomorrow--but spent most of the day at my computer working on a manuscript. Mostly, it was formatting work which is monotonously addictive, sort of like Facebook--you keep thinking just one more line, one more entry. But I have a lot of work on my desk, and I like that. And tonight Jacob is with me. Makes for a pretty fine day.
Ordinarily I'm not one to make New Year's resolutions, because who keeps them? But I have three this year that seem important to me, and I intend to keep them:
1. To exercise regularly, either yoga or my exercise bike. I stopped both in July when Sophie came to our house. At first I was outside so much with her because she was too little to let out alone. But now she spends hours outside and loves it. Meantime I got out of the habit of exercising--and I gained weight. My conscience bothers me more than my body, but for the past two or three weeks I've gotten back to yoga sporadically. In August, too, Jacob started coming after school every day--and I can't do yoga when he's around. See? I have all kinds of excuses. This year, I'm planning yoga into each day's schedule as much as possible.
2. I will get control of Sophie who minds so well at some things and ignores others plus is totally a mess when excited. I need to stop telling myself she's just a puppy. She's almost eight months old and needs to live in the world. Last night when she insisted on jumping on me, I put her in her crate; half an hour later I let her back into the office, and she slept at my feet like an angel. After Sue walked her and announced, "She's used to getting her own way," I called the dog trainer I used with Scooby. He'll come next Friday.
3. This one is harder but lately I've been acutely aware of how blessed and lucky I am--with family, friends, meaningful work, a comfortable home, an income that keeps me fed and warm and allows a few luxuries if not many. But there are so many who are much less fortunate, especially in these economic times. So I resolve to do some kind of outreach, probably through my church. Working at a museum or making visitors calls for the church, which I already do, or some of the other things that interest me aren't the same--they reach those who already have. If I'm honest, I have to admit that I'm probably not suited to work with the homeless--my church has a program called Room at the Inn, whereby homeless people are fed and housed for one night a week. I don't think that's my niche. It may take a while to find it. It may be that being politically active during this election fits part of that resolve. I have been actively trying to find my political voice on Facebook.
My friend Subie ended their Christmas letter with a wish that each of us find meaningful and satisfying work--that, to me, is so important. So I wish that for each of you, along with health, happiness, and love. No, I don't wish you wealth--but I wish you security and comfort.
2012--bring it on!