Judy Alter's Blog, page 332

Two days as a grandmother--and trying to be an author

After a Christmas holiday full of grandchildren, I've had a two-day Jacob experience. His parents went out of town--which really burned him, because he thought they should have taken him with them. We didn't tell him they'd gone to the Alamo Bowl to see Baylor play--and win--because he's an avid Baylor fan. But he was here from six Wed. night until seven tonight. I was never a mom who played with her kids much--they were four of them and they kept themselves busy together. So entertaining one grandchild is a challenge--yesterday we ran errands all morning, which didn't please him except when we picked out special desserts for New Year's Eve at Central Market. Never mind that he was so sad tonight he ate his and I promised to share mine tomorrow--I don't need all those calories anyway. Last night we went to a German restaurant with his Aunt Betty--and he talked incessantly and acted up, but ate chicken strips and fries. The food at Greenwoods, by the by, was delicious. Betty and I shared schnitzel, fried potataoes and salad.
Today Jacob and I had a battle over the Baylor shirt he'd been wearing for three days--it's filthy, but he refused to take it off. So I took this ragamuffin urchin to Origins and Staples and then back home where he decided it didn't matter if he played with the dogs in a dirty shirt. His folks expected to be back about four but didn't arrive until seven--awful traffic on I-35. So we fiddled away the afternoon--I worked and napped, Jacob played and watched TV--and napped. We were both soooo glad to see the parents arrive:-)
My good friend Subie came by this afternoon--haven't seen her in a couple of years (Jacob finally put on a clean shirt for the occasion). We had a glass of wine and a good visit, albeit around a talkative five-year-old. Her visit was a bright spot in a sort of uncertain day.
In my work periods today, I'm checking edits on the second Kelly O'Connell mystery--accepting or declining insertions and deletions on the Track Changes program is always problematic--and frustrating--to me, but I'm learning some things as I go along. My editor is in Wales, and sometimes I wonder if that doesn't lead to a difference in idioms, etc. And I have always followed the Chicago Manual of Style--which she doesn't. She thinks I include too much description about houses and foods, but my feeling is the Kelly books are cozies and people want to have this sense of being immersed in Kelly's world. (Any opinions are welcome!) So I'm battling with these differences and trying to be accommodating. I have miles to go on this manuscript and then on the next one, though I'm lunching with Fred on Tuesday and will get his comments on that one. 2012 promises to be busy.

Home again, home again

No matter where you go--be it to an exotic foreign land or a relative's house thirty miles away--and no matter what a wonderful time you have, it's always good to be home. I'm back from a wonderful Christmas in Austin, still savoring memories, but gradually settling into being home--unpacking, sorting mail, loving the dogs (Sophie seems ecstatic to see me, Scooby more contained about it), throwing out a dead flower arrangement. Tomorrow I have several loads of laundry to do, a thousand leaves to sweep out of the house (Sophie is a magnet for dirt and leaves), and lots of other "reclaiming" chores. But late this afternoon, I had a nap in my own bed, which was delightful.
Jordan, Jacob and I managed to make a fve-hour trip out of the three-hour drive from Austin--we stopped at the outlet mall in Round Rock, then at the Elite Cafe in Waco only the parking lot was so crowded we moved on, with the Czech Stop in mind for quick sandwiches. But as we exited another place in Waco to do a bit of shopping Jordan wanted, we passed a Collin Street Bakery restaurant, and I voted for going back there for lunch--it was not outstanding but good.
So now I'm home savoring memories--Ford and Jacob taunting me this morning with mischief in their eyes, then running screaming when I said I'd get them; Sawyer's intense concentration on building a rocket; Maddie's wonderful voice and guitar music; Eden's taattoos that she plastered on each child; Morgan sliding down the pole from the circular staircase I don't know how many times and Kegan finally following her lead. Kegan at four avoids me and some of his aunts--I think he's shy, because he'll grin but back away. They are all wonderful, and I am so blessed.
On to 2012 which will be a good year. God bless one and all.

Family, family, family

My two sons have a running "thing" about who is my favorite. Colin will call me with "Hi, Ma, it's me, your favorite son" and Jamie will post on Facebook, "Mom, I know you love me a lot but we have to remember you have another son and we don't want to hurt his feelings." So I got two shirts that said, "Mom likes me best" and made them open them simultaneously. They thought I had scored, so thanks to friend Sally for finding these.
Have you ever slept on an air mattress? One with a leak? We air it up before I got to bed but it gets quite soft during the night--then it's hard to move in the bed because it seems to envelop me, and it's hard to get up. I can't get the support to stand up. I finally decided it's best to roll off, get on all fours, and stand up from there. But the corker came this afternoon when I took up a nap. I had pushed the mattress close to the bookcase and put the phone on a shelf so I could check the time. Rolled over to do that and the whole mattress came with me, standing on its side. I was trapped by the covers. After two tries I extricated myself but I had visions of having to call the children, which would have a) made them laugh, and b) convinced them I need a keeper.
The funny thing about all this is that my grown kids are on a protective kick about me. Yesterday, as I took rolls out of the lower oven, my hand brushed the rack and got a tiny burn, momentary discomfort. Meantime Megan demanded that I let go of the pan--she was sure I was falling and about to put my hand on the oven door. In truth, I only needed someone to push the rolls back onto the rimless cookies sheet. But it was "Mom, after this, let us get things out of the lower oven!"  My reaction was a vehement "No! I'm capable." I've had a cold, the kind that makes you snort and snuff in the morning and leaves a lingering cough. So I've dealt with threats to take me to an ER clinic in spite of my protests that feel fine and it's just a cold.
I'm protesting that if they keep this up, they'll make me old before my time. Their argument--mostly Colin--is that I'm of an age where a fall can have serious consequences (didn't tell them I tripped on bed clothes yesterday and took a hard fall) and pneumonia can be serious, etc. Compromise: I will call my doctor's office tomorrow.
A Christmas Eve photo that I find beond sweet: They're staring at the reindeeer food they put out, waiting for reindeer to appear. Unfortunately it rained and as someone said the reindeer food turned to oatmeal. Still, the hopefulness of children is so much a part of Christmas and its joy. I've read posts that say "Okay, we're done with Christmas. Let's move on." I'm not ready to let go of the spirit. The first child left today, a whole family will be leaving in a few minutes, but we've had three glorious days together.

Christmas and grandchildren

I started to write that Christmas is all about grandchildren--but of course, it's not. It's about the gift of Jesus and God's love for his people. Jordan and I agreed tonight that the thing we miss in our big family gatherings is the late night trip to church--but no one wants to keep the children up that late. And I'm afrad the magical "reason for the season" gets lost in tracking Santa Claus and begging to open just one present.
But an underlying theme to this sacred holiday is the joy of children and family traditions. All seven of my grandchildren have at most a two-minute reacquaintance period and then they're off and running. The noise level in the house is worse than ten jet planes and there are of course occasional tears, accusations, and fits. But on the whole it's happy. Their Uncle Colin made a gingerbread house for each child and each decorated his or her own today--and each won a prize in a different category. Then there were running gun battles throughout the house not only encouraged but led by two men in the forties. The children hardly stop to be loved or hugged.
This is an Alter Christmas--every other year my children go to their in-laws but on "our" years we celebrate the way I grew up and the way my children did. That means no, you don't open presents until  Christmas morning--Sawyer announced we were take a vote tonight but I nullified the vote.
We've had chicken parmesan (my turn to cook), chili (Brandon's turn but Megan made it) and tonight I made my mom's everlasting rolls and turned them into sticky buns that are waiting to rise enough to be baked. I set the rest of the dough on the porch--it will be in the 30s--and will make dinner rolls tomorrow. I haven't done that in years--it's a lot of work--but my children were ecstatic that I'm doing this. And you know what? It felt good to work the dough. Jordan offered to stir and I said no, I have to do it by how it feels. Megan said she had no idea how I knew what I was doing, not measuring. I protested I measured--milk, surgar, oil, baking powder, baking soda. But then I do add flour by the feel of the dough. I so hope I can pass that on to my girls.
The nice thing about my family is that everyone cooks, so it isn't a burden on any one. I've gotten to read and work a bit at the computer and sleep late in the morning. Tomorrow we'll have a huge breakfast and then presents and then launch into fixing turkey  dressing, green bean casserole (a must!), mashed potatoes and gravy, and mac and cheese. The apple pie is made, guests are bringing appetizers, and it will be a jolly day. I hope I can get them all to go beyond the funny blessings at the table to give serious thanks for the day and all it represents and for our good fortune in being together.
May God bring each of you similar blessings this season and in the coming year. And to all, a good night.

Christmas is coming, fill the cookie jar

Jacob wanted to make cookies last night but I explained we were going to dinner and evening wasn't a good time. Then this morning he wanted to bake them right away so he could have cookies for breakfast. Instead I greeted him with "Put on your jacket--we're going to the hardware" at 8:15 this morning. We rushed to get floodlight bulbs before Lewis came to replace all the burned out ones--and we rushed without breakfast or coffee for me. Once he adjusted to the idea--a slight bribe was involved--Jacob was a good trooper. Then we made coal cookies--Jacob was enthusiastic about measuring and mixing and putting spoonfuls into mini muffin tins--what a great way to make cookies. But with the tin about 3/4 full he decided that was enoiugh--there was an entire second tin worth of dough left. I ended up finishing  the cookies. We're working hard on not double dipping--don't lick a spoon and put it back in the dough, don't dunk the beater back in the mixture because you like licking it, etc. I'm sure baking killed whataever germs were there, but it's the principle of the matter. He's gone off to McDonald's with his mom--a real treat.
Sophie does it again--I was using one of my cane-seat chairs to keep her off the duck upholstered chair in my office--she chewed a huge hole in the cane and gnawed away part of the seat. I had a dog die from a splinter in his lung once; Sophie has chewed on everything wooden she can find and survives quite nicely. This morning Lewis said, "She hadn't calmed down at all. We need puppy Prozac." I will have to get serious about this after the holiday. My plan to have a well-trained, companionable dog overlooked Sophie's high spirits. Not sure how long I can go on with the excuse that she's just a puppy! But I've had friends offer to take her for a run, which is probably just what she needs.
Lovely evening tonight at the home of my friend and former neighbor Sue. Her parents live in Ottawa, Ontario, and we get to talking about eastern Ontario where once upon a time I had lots of relatives. Also being of the same age and political opinions, we talk about a lot of things. I am always truly glad to see them. And truly glad to catch up with Sue and her two children Alex and Hunter, who are growing way too fast for me to keep up. I took them each a lump of coal (cookie) even though they both claimed they'd been nice for the year-and on the whole, I bet they had.
Came home, ate tuna, and tried to figure the loose ends I had to tie up. Why is there always something we forget? Tomorrow, the Christmas rush begins. Can't wait!

Pre-Christmas trivia

It's five days before Christmas and, according to my usual habit, I have everything done, so I'm kind of fiddling the days away on trivia--a grocery store trip that wasn't needed except that I decided to bake coal cookies for all my grandchildren. I figure not a one of them  has been an angel every minute of the year so they get a lump of coal in their stockings--the directions say to shape the still-warm cookies in your hands until they resemble a lump of coal. They sound delicious, with dutch-process cocoa (none other), espresso powder, and chocolate bits.
I still have odds and ends to do--the kinds of things that you figure if you don't write them down, you'll forget. For instance, where is that wonderful fancy Christmas stocking someone made me years ago?
Tonight Jacob and I went with Betty to the Star Cafe, the Stockyards restaurant she and her husband own. Jacob has been clamoring to go to the Star and see Aunt Betty and Uncle Don. Uncle Don never did show up while we were there, but we had a good time. Highlight of the evening: Aunt Betty got Jacob a real Wrangler cowboy shirt. That became even more important because when we got out of the car, three riders on horseback moved up Exchange Avenue. Jacob ate a grilled cheese, and Aunt Betty kept refilling his sundae with more chocolate sauce and whipped cream. I told her if he's awake at midnight, I'm calling her. I also told her she was evil, and Jacob asked, "What's evil?" Betty sat back in her chair and said, "I really want to hear how you're going to answer that." Thanks for the support!
My project for tonight is to find just the right books to download for Christmas reading, which means reading first chapters to make sure I haven't read them before and am interested.
Something that puzzles me: I thought North Korean leader Kim Jong II was listed as one of the world's worst dictators. But I saw TV pictures tonight of thousands of North Koreans weeping in the streets. Was he evil and they loved him anyway? Was he a benevolent dictator--I can't believe that. Another thing that puzzles me: Texas law contains a provision saying a person who collects a pension must step down from their position, be it elected or appointed. So why do people dismiss what Rick Perry's doing with a wave of the arm and "Everyone does that!" I don't think so.
The world is full of puzzlements, and I know there were one or two more I was going to post about--but I forgot to write them down. Maybe they'll occur to me tomorrow.
Meantime, my granddaughter Maddie can tell you to the day, hour and minute how long until Christmas. If you haven't done your shopping, it may scare  you.

V is for Vengeance

I just finished what must be Sue Grafton's 22nd outing in her alphabet series of mysteries featuring P.I. Kinsey Milhone. This one took me a little longer to read--partly because I had a lot of other things, like Christmas, going on but also because it was slow to draw me in. But once I got into it--and once Kinsey appeared on the scene, I was hooked as usual. This is a suspense novel in the classic sense--the reader knows the good guys and the bad guys--and what they're up to. It's just a question of when their paths will converge--and Grafton is a master at building complications and suspense. Just when you think there's no relation between this character and that, a small fact makes you realign your thinking. It's finger-nail-biting, read-into-the-night stuff.
Kinsey Milhone doesn't seem to change--if she ages, it's not obvious; she still eats at Rosie's and hangs out with Henry, her spry elderly neighbor who's a great cook. But in this volume Grafton creates some characters of real depth, like Pinky, the petty thief who can't seem to reform and can't seem to win at anything he tries. He's a loser but the reader soon feels Kinsey's concern and, yes, affection, for him. Perhaps the most interesting is the mastermind criminal Dante--don't call him a gangster because he resents that. But he's efficient, almost ruthless, and runs a huge smoothly operating resale business--as in reselling shoplifted and stolen goods. He's also charming, ethical in his own way, and an entirely sympathetic villain if there is such a thing. Dante is the kind of bad guy you find yourself rooting for.
The novel opens, as most suspense novels do, with a series of apparently unrelated scenes. Grafton soon links them, so that you sense what's going on. What bothered me was that I couldn't relate the first scene to the rest of the action until late in the novel--perhaps a more astute reader would pick up on it, but when I finally read what linked it to the plot, I'd almost forgotten that opening scene. Puzzled me a bit.
But Grafton remains a master of her craft. I think she and Kinsey will make it safely through the alphabet, and I look forward to the last letters--Z is for ?????

Is blogging passe?

The Liptstick Chronicles, a collective blog by several mystery writers, is closing down as of January 1. Blogging, they say, has seen its day. "The party's over." The authors behind this blog feel that other social media--Facebook,Twitter, Goodreads--have taken the place of blogging. (I am active on Facebook, barely alive on Twitter and confounded by Goodreads--can't figure out how to post). The Chronicles didn't aim to teach wannabe writers to write or writers to sell. These bloggers wanted to show the world that writers are human, with a sense of humor and everyday adventures just like the rest of us. Hats off to
NANCY MARTIN
ELAINE VIETS
SARAH STROHMEYER
HARLEY JANE KOZAK
KATHY RESCHINI SWEENEY
MARGARET MARON
JOSHILYN JACKSON
HANK PHILLIPPI RYAN
BRUNONIA BARRY
NANCY PICKARD
CORNELIA READ
BARBARA O'NEAL
HEATHER GRAHAM
AMY HATVANY
They did an admirable job, and many of us will miss them. But their "party's  over" message emphasized a rumor I've been hearing. Blogging doesn't sell books, it's old-fashioned (boy, that happened quickly). Of course, now I'm wondering if I'm a luddite since I've been blogging for five years and have some 32,000+ hits--not all that many for such a long time but still respectable.
Bloggers probably have to examine the reason they blog. If it's to sell books, forget it. No one likes a hard sell. Sure I announce my books and report good things from time to time, but I don't blog to sell--except in a roundabout way. Nor do I blog to teach--what I could teach would barely fill one post. Sometimes I do reflect on writing and various aspects of it, sometimes I report on books I've enjoyed. I almost never mention books I didn't like.
But a lot of the time I  report the high points of my life and the trivia. Are you really interested that my two major accomplishments of the morning were to put Draino in the bathroom sink and re-season my cast iron skillet--I think in the process I may have ruined the latter, and now I've got to do something about the slow drain the tub. Hardly high points in anyone's day.
So why blog? First of all, it's a challenge that's fun--what can I talk about  tonight? I blog almost every night, except those days when my mind truly is a blank or the rare occasion when I'm so busy all day and evening I don't  have the energy or time. I blog about what's happening in my life--if you're a regular reader, you must feel like you know grandson Jacob and my dining pal Betty and my neighbors. I blog about random things I read in the paper or on Facebook. The temptation to blog about politics is almost  not to be withstood by this dedicated liberal but my conservative son-in-law says I'm always political. I think the point behind this kind of blogging is to make and keep friends. I had an email this morning from an old and dear friend who said she was so glad I had a blog so she could keep up with me but then she realized she doesn't have a blog and should write. Wonderful reaction.
My oldest daughter says Skeleton in a Dead Space is a highly autobiographical novel, so that's a minor reason for my blogs. If you like me as a person, perhaps you'll like my autobiographical novel--wait! most of those things never happened to me; I was a single parent, but I've never found a skeleton nor been in a physical fight. Future novels will be less autobiographical as Kelly's life takes turns mine didn't but maybe you figure if you like me, you'll continue to like Kelly. She does, after all, reflect the kind of person I am.
I'm not too busy too blog--in fact, I'm at a hiatus in my writing right now, which is a whole other story. And I'm not ready to quit blogging. I hope you're not reading to stop reading, even if only occasionally.
Cheers and Happy Holidays! I'll be a at Potluck with Judy tomorrow with some kind of holiday recipe. Haven't decided what. Oh,  yeah, I forgot to mention that blogging is a spur-of-the-moment thing for me and not something I labor over. Perhaps you already guessed that.

Friday trivia

This hasn't been a really busy week. When other people's pre-holiday schedules get frantic, my life seems to slow down. I've got Christmas done, as much as I am going to do, and I'm at a hiatus in my writing. Still have to reread the work-in-progress and make sure it hangs together, but I've incorporated Fred's suggestions and feel good about it. At this point, I have three books under contract, but there's no urgency--one is in the hands of an editor and the next two are written and only need polishing. So I'm sort of on a holiday vacation.
Went to a lovely Christmas party in the early evening--nibbled on such goodies as a brie cheesecake and endive stuffed with beets, carrots, fennel and a bit of salmon roe. Came home to nibble on more mundane fare--cottage cheese, chicken salad, and cucumber. Sleepy--but it's too early to go to sleep. Dogs are fed and outside playing.
I did a moment of reflection today on how comfortable and lucky I am, and I said a prayer for all those less fortunate--along with a resolve to do more community service. I had a pricey dinner last night with a good friend at an upscale restaurant; I shopped in an upscale grocery today and bought luxury items--fancy chocolate bars, Kobe beef, hearts of palm--and then I went to Origins, my favorite cosmetic store--no drugstore cosmetics for me! I bought "staples" but we won't talk about the price tag. I worry about money a lot as a retired person--but today I had a real epiphany about how many ways I could cut down my expenses if I felt desperate. I know there are so many people in the world--in this country--who are desperate, that I feel selfish. And resolved to do more.
Some things that struck me today:
I found a recipe for taking sliced roast beef, simmering it in French onion soup with Worcestershire, and melting provolone on it--then turning the whole thing into a sandwich. But when I went to the market, the deli person said he only had well done beef and, forgetting that it would turn well done in the soup, I said no, I wanted rare. So he sold me Kobe beef--so lovely and pink--for the price of the regular. Of course, there's no way I'm going to cook that in soup. I want a sandwich with mayo, tomato, provolone, and good sourdough bread. This is for Sundaty lunch, and I guarantee Jordan will microwave her meat--maybe we can talk her into sauteing it.
In the current issue of Southern Living, I found directions for refreshing your iron skillet so that it doesn't stick. I admit I've used  mine so much for--who knows how many years?--that foods stick. The instructions say to scrub it well in hot soapy water. I thought soap was a no-no, but  I'm willing to try. Then dry thoroughly and coat with melted shortening or vegetable oil. Of course I do that every time I put it away. But here's the second new step: Put the skillet upside down on a rack in the middle of the oven (place foil on a lower rack to catch drips) and bake it one hour at 375. It's on my agenda for tomorrow.
Guy Fieri of Diners, Drive-Inns and Dives--or whatever it's called--has been in the Metroplex. Of course, all the food lovers have suggestions of places he should have visited--too late! But he did go to one of my favorites--Tolbert's Texas Chili Parlor, managed by Kathleen Tolbert Ryan, daughter of the legendary chili king and entrepreneur Frank Tolbert. Their chili is wonderful and Tolbert invented what one food critic calls the first junk food--donkey tails. That would be sausage-beef franks and cheese wrapped in a tortilla and deep-fried. Dunked in chili, it's wonderful and so filling. I never know whether to order the chili or the donkey tails though to order both makes me feel gluttonous.
Enough trivia for Friday. The sun came out today,and it surely changes one's outlook on the world. It's been a good day.

Off days and gloomy weather

Do you ever have an "off" day? You're not sick, but you just don't feel right. I like to think of myself as the perpetual Pollyanna--always bright, always looking on the good side, seeing the glass half full. But yesterday my system was out of whack--maybe it was the scratchy throat and stuffy nose that Jacob gave me, maybe it was my stomach which was in turmoil all day, maybe it was that I drank coffee and didn't eat anything for an hour or more in the morning. Maybe you can never figure out what causes an off day.  But, oh my. am I a new person today, though it's been an uneventful day.
Highlight was supper at Sapristi's with good friend Sue Boggs--we split the tapas and I had a Caesar salad while she had roasted mushrooms--and wine. We talked so long the waitress came and added a splash of wine to our glasses, saying, "It looks like such a good conversation I think you need just a bit more." Courtesy of the house. Wonderful to have neighborhood places like that.
Rainy and cold all afternoon and tonight--the kind of day that makes you shrink into yourself. I got out in spite of it but am glad to be home. Sorting through recipes, loking for a good sandwich I haven't fixed before. Nice way to spend the evening.
Stay warm and dry, everyone.