The Porthole View

Gone are the days of tiny portholes. Now cruiseships have picture windows or even balconies. I noticed lots of balconies, very few populated. They are like decks. Most people never use them.

Anyway, we had a sea window, good for taking in the view while changing clothes, waking up, and so forth. It also revealed how little darkness there was in this part of the world so close to the solstice. The shot you see was taken Day One, when we were cruising north out of Vancouver. The scenery gradually segued into totally spectacular, but it was good to have it happen gradually. This day we saw lots of big fish jumping. Don't know what they were. I got my fill of salmon, cod and halibut, all delicious. The salmon were beginning to swim upstream and we saw one river just loaded with them.

Many of the rivers are fishless, due to the glacial melt and all the sediment and lack of oxygen in the water. Lots of silt, little wildlife. Some of the glaciers are really filthy, and others have beautiful blue ice. We saw some calving, and the thunder was stupendous, and it made a satisfying splash as well. One never grows too old for a really big splash.

Glaciers are abundant, and we had a map showing how they had shrunk in the last 100 years. The decline hasn't all been recent.

Not cooking (but eating) for two weeks has me all inspired. Last night I cooked a chicken breast in wine with an anise bulb and lots of lemon. Flavor was subtle, not licorishy. We also tried broccoli with garlic and toasted Panko crumbs, another winner. Cucumber salad with tomatoes and herbs from the garden. Lots of good veggies and lean meat.

Tonight is shrimp on the grill with grilled eggplant, zucchini, portabellas and red peppers. Yum! I'm making a diet rice pudding. Weight is starting to come off. I measure out the damn granola in the morning. Never seems like enough.

Worked on the ending of Festival Madness, and now it seems kind of tepid, so I have more work to do. Endless revisions--what else is new?

I am reading a Donna Leon book, my first. Nothing happened until mid-story. Lots of running around Venice and drinking of coffee and grappa. I like it all right, but am not sure what the big deal about her is. A perfectly nice little mystery in a Venetian setting.

Did I mention the agent told publishers are only buying "cozy-cozies" and thrillers from "new" writers. My next book is "Twenty-Five Years in Informations Systems," in which I tell tales out of school. Non-fiction. Then it's 1928 California, but not in the crime fiction genre. After that, well, we see.

After a rocky start, I am really savoring The Warlord's Son, and read little bits of it so I don't finish too early. Great stuff about Pakistan and Afghanistan. Sounds so authentic. I have to get back to Proust sometime this summer.

In the meantime, The Sunday New York Times and the Boston Globe await. A full day's work, at least.

Cats were estatic to see us. Annie escaped the house yesterday and ran all over the neighborhood for 5 hours. Bad cat. The garden is spectacular. Photos anon. I have everything weeded. My $2.50 miniature rose from the supermarket this winter now has 5 blooms. The geraniums I carried over the winter have fat, colorful flowers. Sometimes frugality pays off.