Writing and Other Occupations

I haven't been posting as regularly as I might, because I've actually been getting books ready to send out to agents and editors. In other words, not sucking it up quite as much as usual. Takes a lot of time to re-edit an entire manuscript and print it. Staples had a BOGO on paper this week, so now we have a year's supply. We applied to work on the census, and I wrote a press release for my Toastmaster's club. Had a dinner party. Cooked and then cooked some more. Got ready to enter a novel in the Amazon/ABNA contest. The good thing about having novels backed up waiting to sell is that you really stay busy flogging them. (I love Britishisms) .

It's taking more time to manage my so-called "retirement" than I thought. This would be the stuff of an article were I so inclined.

Today I joined Authonomy and put World of Mirrors (first 6 chapters) up on it. These sites where everyone sucks up for votes and comments, comments, comments make me a little nervous, geeky hermit type that, au fond, I am.

Speaking of au fond, I'm working on my fish story again, and finally found the site for the conclusion. Man, this has been work. Poor Francis. He's been through the mill. I do love my characters, even the non-human ones.

Iris, the Scottish Highland Mama has a big gore in her side. I think the gorer was Maggie. They are both somewhat obstreperous, and Iris has been beside herself since her calf was sent away. Don't know what Maggie's problem is. I climb up on the snowbank and throw the scraps over the fence. We buy cheap bread (hard to find nowadays) and feed the ducks on the way home from the store. Can you believe Wonder Bread costs over three dollars? I was appalled at paying $4.00 for a superior loaf of bread, but maybe that's not even a bad price.

Tomorrow, we will again partake of our tradition of having meatloaf for the SuperBowl. Meatloaf is easy to eat if you're watching TV. Doesn't have to be cut, no messy gravy, you know. Is a ritual also a myth? Inquiring minds want to know. Is a tradition a ritual? I know someone who puts the flag up and has a big rigamarole before every Patriots game. Is that a tradition, a ritual or just foolishness?

So, tradition or ritual, meatloaf it is. I'm not making my complicated meatloaf, but the simple one my mother taught me. I use oatmeal instead of cracker crumbs. Chacun a son gout.

I've been searching through my mom's old photographs and looking at the ones from the summer she went to school at Emporia State Teacher's College. Looks like she and her little gang had a wonderful summer. No TV, No electronics, no booze, no smokes, maybe no guys, but the girls had fun. No city and no sex. Probably a curfew. They almost always wore summer dresses. Not too flapperish, but sorta. It is just so hard to put my 21st century self back to 1926. Young Girls in Flower. Proust had it right.

As ever,

Grapeshot

Keep Your Appetizers Warm by Wrapping Them

Breadsticks wrapped in bacon and shrimp wrapped in snow peas.

Behold.

These appetizer offerings were both tasty. The shrimp have the added virtue of being rather low fat and have nice color The bacon is, well, bacon.

Yesterday's New York Times had the "ultimate" bacon dish--sausage wrapped in beaucoup bacon. Looked like an artery-clogging calorie bomb. Sometimes just a little bit is enough.

My chocolate cake, which we forgot to photograph but not to eat, is made entirely in a food processor except for some beaten egg whites. Lots of instant espresso powder added. Zowie, was it ever moist and yummy and easy to bake and from scratch. I used low-fat Bulgarian yogurt instead of sour cream with no sacrific to moistness or flavor. Email me if you want the recipe.

Grapeshot

John Updike

Such a shock to hear of Updike's death. American Literature lost a great writer.

I loved his New Yorker fiction and the "Rabbit" books. Updike always had his finger on our pulse, and of course we were mostly a little sick. Sometimes I look back upon the prior decades with a mixture of awe and horror. Updike was always there, recording everything.

The New York Times had a huge obit and the Globe weighed in with a large article, too. Loved those metaphors. When I took modern American literature in college, Updike wasn't taught, yet, so I had to find him for myself.

Small town life teaches us so much, if we will just attend. The suburbs, too, once you get before the boosterism and the superficial surfaces. Updike mined these locales for gold. What can one say? It's not often that a "Literary" writer produced a book a year, and ventures into so many odd places. And excels.

We will miss his twinkling eyes and his extraordinary pen.

An Oldie But Goody

Today I made that old standby from 70's dinner parties, Beouf Bourgignon. (Photo tomorrow!) The party is tomorrow and it may get snowed out again, which would be a perfect 3 out of 3 for dinner parties this winter, but hell, I went ahead and made it. The dish itself is kind of a time-consuming. I bought a roast and cut it up ($5.00) cheaper than the other cuts, and cut carrots, and 30 little red onions that in spite of the boiling water and cold water baths were a major pain. But they do look cute. Cut the bacon up and browned it. Cut the scallions and garlic. Slice, slice, chop, chop. Browning three pounds of meat is tedious. Add more ingredients including wine. Delcious smell in the house. Hey, it wasn't so bad. Add the rest of the veggies. Taste. Yum! Tomorrow I just need to saute the mushrooms and "adjust seasonings."

While I was at it, I made my food processor mocha cake which I haven't made for many moons. The whole thing is made (except for egg whites) in the food processor. Of course, S.O. and I engaged in "risky behavior" (get your mind out of the gutter) and ate some of the egg-rich batter. Listen, I always wear my seat belt.

We're going to sample the cake to make sure it's fit to serve company. The cake will get its mocha frosting tomorrow. Pardon me while I salivate.

Today I cooked some apple-chicken sausage, hoping it tasted like the wonderful sausage we ate the first time we visited St. Helena and the wine country. We ate at a little breakfast place on the main drag and the sausage was heaven. This was years ago.

Tonight's sausage was too apple-y and wayyyy too sweet. Yuck-o.

The dinner party appetizers are bread sticks wrapped in bacon and shrimp wrapped in snow peas. Obviously the cold weather has me bundling everything up even , even food.

As a young bride, I wasn't sure if a clove of garlic was a bud or a clove, and several times I think I used the whole garlic bud. No wonder my boeuf bourgignon tasted to fab. Ah, the days of our youth.

Grapeshot

National Book Award Nominees

No genre writers here, but some good reading.

Fiction
Roberto Bolano, 2666
Marilynne Robinson, Home
Aleksandar Hemon, The Lazarus Project
M. Glenn Taylor, The Ballad of Trenchmouth Taggart
Elizabeth Strout, Olive Kittredge

Nonfiction
Dexter Filkins, The Forever War
Drew Gilpin Faust, This Republic of Suffering: Death and the Civil War
Jane Mayer, The Dark Side
Allan Lichtman, White Protestant Nation
George C. Herring, From Colony to Superpower: US Foreign Relations Since 1776


Other categories are biography, memoir, children's literature and what have you. Love that "what have you" category.

Last night I was making a final, final pass through Festival Madness, coming up to the exciting conclusion, when I discovered and I had written in an 8 day week. Two Thursdays, each with important events. Holy Freakin' Crap! How did I manage that?

Did some slight of hand with moving some events to an afternoon, some to the next morning, and pouf! seven days a week. I'm still chopping out words, 2,000 + so far this pass, down maybe 7,000 from when the novel was completed. Yowza! No fun in that at all, but I'm always amazed at the fact that I actually wrote this, and that is seems to be a good read, and that I get so caught up in the story toward the end that I forget to look for words to cut. How can this be? I mean, I wrote it. Why does it still seem exciting?

Heap big mystery.

We fed the cows yesterday, and poor Iris. who granted, is sometimes a bully, had a gore wound in her side. Wonder if the farmer knows. The cows, who had no hay, were so happy to see us, and I had half a loaf of bread (better than none, ha! ha!) and two big bags of fruit and veggie scraps. Yum!

The bottom fell out of the fullest bag and I can to scrabble around in the icy snow to retrieve the goodies.

Love those cows.

Grapeshot

Goulash Soup

I have to confess. I'm addicted to Goulash Soup, a harmless, maybe even healthy addiction. I first ate it in Europe, mostly Germany and Austria years ago. The rust-red bowl placed in front of me always differed from restaurant to restaurant, but pureed or chunky, with veggies or just meat, it was always good. I have umpteen recipes, all delicious. Personally, I like it with plenty of veggies: onion, peppers, garlic are standard, and I like a bit of carrot and potato, too. Tomatoes, natch.

Here is my original recipe. Methinks it's from the New York Times about a million years ago.

I made it last night. For some reason it doesn't call for any broth or water in which case it would be goulash, not goulash soup. I rinse out the tomato can with some water and add beef broth or bouillion until it's just the right amount of liquid for the veggies. If you make soup, you'll know. The recipe says four to six servings. We get four for a main course. If served in cups as a soup course, you would, of course, get more servings.

About the paprika: I use a teaspoon of hot, a teaspoon of sweet and a teaspoon of smoked. It's spicy, but not eye-wateringly so. And hey, we don't consider sour cream optional, but mandatory. You can probably get by with low fat sour cream, but don't even consider the non-fat variety.

3/4 lb. boneless sirloin or shell steak. (you can use anything from round steak to filet and adjust the cooking time). You're nuts if you use filet of beef, o.k.?
2 T. cooking oil. I use canola. (note: real goulash is always made with lard or pork fat.)
2 cups finely chopped onions
2 t. finely minced garlic
1 chopped sweet, red or green papper
1 T. paprika, mixed if possible. See note above.
1 t. caraway seed
salt and freshly ground pepper (go easy on the salt if you are using a salty bouillon or broth)
2 cups canned red ripe tomatoes (you can also use fresh)
sour cream on the table

1. Trim meat of gristle and fat. Cut into half inch cubes.
2. Heat the oil in a large saucepan or casserole. Add the meat and cook, stirring, until it begins to brown.
3. Add onions, garlic and peppers. Cook, stirring, about 5 minutes. Add chopped carrots if using. Add the paprika, caraway seeds, and salt and pepper to taste. Stir
4. Add the tomatoes, and whatever broth or water you are using, and cover and cook, stirring occasionally, one hour or until the meat is tender and the vegetables are cooked. About half way through the cooking, add a potato chopped into 1/4 inch pieces if desired.
5. Put a dollop of sour cream on each bowl.

I really like soup plates. You can still find them. We like to eat this with real rye bread and a salad.

Bon Appetit.

Grapeshot

What Recession?

Last night, a meal out, just us, which has not happened for a while. First we went to a chain steak house, reasonable but not cheap. At 6:30, there was an hour and a half wait. Lots of kids waiting with parents. Hmmm. And I had thought restaurants were empty these days.

We drove to the newish Patriot Place in Foxborough and landed on Davios, an "Italian steakhouse." Prices were not bad for a steakhouse, but not as cheap as the Longhorn. Cauliflower/garlic soup was excellent. I had a grilled skirt steak with spinach Romana and S.O. had a pasta special. Both really good. Wine was most potable. Bill did not make us faint dead away. When we left, there was hardly an empty table in the house.

Go figure.

A couple sat down nearby and I spent the next half hour trying to decide if I had worked with the man a long time ago. He was grayer, but so what? I finally decided it was my former colleague but I wasn't sure enough walk up and say hello and embarrass everyone. Hard situation. He looked at me a couple times and didn't show signs of recognition, but I have (ahem) put on a little weight since I worked there.

Getting a Festival Madness manuscript ready to send to an agent, and a Promiscuous Mode synopsis and first pages to a publisher. Hope really does spring eternal.

Gladly,

Grapeshot

Writing, Not Blogging

Lots of writing this week and last. The fish story, still incomplete but getting there, and now I've had to cudgel Festival Madness into a even better shape. Nothing like real feedback to help a writer. A nice agent gave me some feedback which actually agreed with something an editor said, so I'm making the umpteenth pass through the novel, cutting out more words and attempting to give one of the characters a bit more gravitas, as it were.

Next month I have to write a speech, and whatever happened to the long cold wintry days when there wasn't much to do?

We applied to work on the 2010 Census and took the test today. The sample questions were easy but not all the test questions were slam dunks by any means. I tried to remember the last time I took a test and couldn't. Even the classes I've taken, both writing and technical have not had actual tests. I believe test-taking is a skill like many others, a skill that can become rusty from disuse. We did just fine on the test. Now comes the background check and that sort of thing.

On Tuesday, I was glued to the TV all day and all night. Yowsa! What a great historic event. Saved all the newspapers. By now I have a huge Obama collection and a gazillion emails, too.

All by way of excuse for not doing much blogging. Busy. Busy. How doth the busy little bee?
Some house finches and exotic looking sparrows at the feeder today. Feeding birds, cows, cats, it never ends.

The herd of eight cows is suddenly down to four. Mary Ann's baby was shipped off and now Mary Ann is gone, too. The only "regulars" are Iris and Maggie. So sad. The problem is, I bond with the cows. A little weird to be sure, but true.

Back to my novel.

Grapeshot

Make Mine Mascara

If you read the newspapers with due diligence, (you do read newspapers, don't you?) you noticed the ads last week announcing a big class action settlement of a suit against some high-end cosmetics companies. Apparently they had been found guilty of price-fixing or some other dastardly deed.

The upshot was, that unless you excused yourself from the lawsuit, yeah, sure, you were entitled to a free cosmetic, "while supplies last." Kids, this was Lancome and Clarins and Estee Lauder, brands that I've spent hundred and hundred of dollars on in the past years.

So today, armed with the newsclipping and a list of products from the Web, I hied myself out to Macy's to be there when the door's opened. If isn't everyday someone hands you $25.00. When we pulled into the parking lot at 9:45, there were already a few cars waiting, all with women, nicely put together women from the look of them, cosmetics users all.

At 9:58 I went through the door, providentially at the cosmetics department, and was directed to the store entrance where the goodies were handed out. Sign your name, say what you want and voila! I got a cool Clarins morning moisturizing cream. Two minutes later we were back in the car. There wasn't a screaming jostling mob as I had feared, but maybe no one reads the paper anymore. It was like a little discount for trying to stay lovely.

We hustled home to get settled for the inaugural activities. How inspiring. It's like a dream come true.

Grapeshot

Winter Is Icummen In again

Yikes! More snow tomorrow. We're going to a performance of the Seagull, done in punk modern dress with non-Chekov type sets. Rave review in the Boston Globe, so it should be interesting.

My desk is again organized and filing in done. Why did this seem to take all week? My robot Gafftopsail Catfish is swimming along and is awaiting more adventures. I must be very weird to write such a strange story.

And now an agent wants to read Festival Madness, just when I was making a major change to the beginning which will need some retrofitting in the middle. What to do? Too many things going on at once.

And Tuesday is the Inauguration. So exciting. So cold. So crazy. Well, I must confess I have nothing to wear to the ball. As a young woman, I always had several winter formal dresses and a selection of summer ones. La di dah! How times have changed. I still have the long opera gloves, white leather, yet. Once I had silk designer shoes, so lovely. Roger Vivier, I think. Hardly even wore them--worth a fortune now as vintage. The shoe in the photo sells for $600. Do I ever wish I had hung onto those shoes.

We have been suffering from a deep cold spell, and will suffer even more when the heating bill comes. Yikes! I could pawn the shoes if i had them.

May I recommend wool socks? I bought two pair at Clarks Shoe in October. At the time, it seemed a somewhat frivolous purchase, but those suckers are soft and warm and machine washable in cold water and I just dry them on the towel rack. Worth every penny. How did I graduate from ball gowns and Roger Vivier to wool socks? It just happened.

Mexican chicken tonight, with refried beans and fried corn tortillas. Tasty. I am reading an Easy Rawlins mystery and Hallie Ephron's 1001 Books for Every Mood. Drooling over the books. Lots of new ones.

Onward, through the frigid air. Ezra Pound said it best:

Winter is icummen in,

Lhude sing Goddamm,

Raineth drop and staineth slop

And how the wind doth ramm!

Sing: Goddamm.

Skiddeth bus and sloppeth us,

An ague hath my ham.

Freezeth river, turneth live

Damn you, sing: Goddamm.

Goddamm, Goddamm, tis why I am,

Goddamm.

So 'gainst the winter's balm

Sing Goddamm, damm, sing Goddamm

Sing Goddamm, sing Goddamm,

DAMM.

Grapeshot

Surviving a Water Landing

A few years ago, researching a short story that I have yet to write, I ran across the following article which is germane to yesterday's crash landing of a passenger plane in the Hudson River. See the link at the end of this blog.

Isn't it just unbelievably great and cool and wonderful to have a bit of really good news? And with the inauguration coming up, life looks good even if the economy is still in the toilet.

A mini-report on the economy as witnessed by me today: Chinese restaurant C.K. Shanghai in Wellesley, good crowd, good food, cheap menu. I went for General Gau's chicken.

At the AAA in Westwood: lots of people. Like us, they must be getting maps and guides to go somewhere. Price of gas is up again.

At Walmart: again, lots of people, many buying groceries. We got cat litter, cat food, cat diabetic supplies and bottled water. I am buying Fancy Feast without gluten for the diabetic cat.

At the tire store: not crowded but phone ringing and some customers. Ye gods, what a new set of tires will set you back. Holy freakin' crap!

People are out and about and buying lunch, planning trips and cruising the Walmart aisles. This is good.

Here is the link to the water landing site:http://www.equipped.org/watertrees.htm

MWA announces Edgar Nominees

BEST NOVEL
Missing by Karin Alvtegen (Felony & Mayhem Press)
Blue Heaven by C.J. Box (St. Martin's Minotaur)
Sins of the Assassin by Robert Ferrigno (Simon & Schuster - Scribner)
The Price of Blood by Declan Hughes (HarperCollins – William Morrow)
The Night Following by Morag Joss (Random House – Delacorte Press)
Curse of the Spellmans by Lisa Lutz (Simon & Schuster)

BEST FIRST NOVEL BY AN AMERICAN AUTHOR
The Kind One by Tom Epperson (Five Star, div of Cengage)
Sweetsmoke by David Fuller (Hyperion)
The Foreigner by Francie Lin (Picador)
Calumet City by Charlie Newton (Simon & Schuster - Touchstone)
A Cure for Night by Justin Peacock (Random House - Doubleday)

BEST PAPERBACK ORIGINAL
The Prince of Bagram by Alex Carr (Random House Trade)
Money Shot by Christa Faust (Hard Case Crime)
Enemy Combatant by Ed Gaffney (Random House - Dell)
China Lake by Meg Gardiner (New American Library – Obsidian Mysteries)
The Cold Spot by Tom Piccirilli (Random House - Bantam)

BEST FACT CRIME
For The Thrill of It: Leopold, Loeb and the Murder that Shocked Chicago by Simon Baatz (HarperCollins)
American Lightning: Terror, Mystery, the Birth of Hollywood, and the Crime of the Century by Howard Blum (Crown Publishers)
Havana Nocturne: How the Mob Owned Cuba and Then Lost It To The Revolution by T.J. English (HarperCollins – William Morrow)
The Man Who Made Vermeers: Unvarnishing the Legend of Master Forger Hans van Meegeren by Jonathan Lopez (Harcourt)
The Suspicions of Mr. Whicher by Kate Summerscale (Walker & Company)

January Blahs

I am neither a morning person nor a winter person, so getting up to get to my 8:00 a.m. aerobics class is difficult. Today the instructor had just returned from a cruise where she had eaten beaucoup bacon and drunk tequila with abandon. Guess who suffered? The class. My lord, that woman worked us. Came home and had to eat lots of peanut butter.

Normally I don't have a control problem with food, but peanut butter (and friend chicken) are two foods I can't resist. I don't know why I bought two jars of peanut butter. Making cookies? Small visitor. Anyway, I gave the smooth to the food pantry, and a few days ago I opened the chunky. OMG! I can't leave it alone. And we have apricot jam in the house, my most favorite PB accompaniment. Except mostly I just take a knife and dig out a big blob and eat it. Repeat.

Is there something lacking in my diet? Like Peanut butter? Dunno. It's bad. I ask myself should I just eat the rest and that's it, but it seems like cheating. Eat some everyday, but too much. Yeah.

S.O. and I are applying to work on the census. The pay is even almost decent. Better than minimum wage. I think I'll like it.

There is an old saying that eternity is two people and a ham. The ham, at Christmas, began with three people and we had lots of ham sandwiches and ham and eggs and finally I froze the rest. Now we've had a big pot of bean soup with the ham bone, and ham and broccoli gratin, and guess what? Ham left. At least enough for sandwiches and two more meals with eggs. Two people. One ham. Actually it was a half-ham. Eternity.

Grapeshot

Reading on the Rise

A bit of good news in a sea of bad. Reading is on the rise. Is this some new escapist thing to get away from the economy, your 401K balance, and the other bad news? More people are even reading fiction, especially fiction. Yowza!

One of the publications I read mentioned that no one has determined if readers were picking up Proust or Nora Roberts. Read both, I say! Read Water for Elephants! Read your local mystery writers. Some of them are awfully good. Pick up a children's book you haven't touched for ages. Wind in the Willows comes to mind. If you can't afford a book, go to your local library. Swap with friends.

Here is a short article discussing the reading phenomenum. Yay!
http://www.thedailybeast.com/cheat-sheet/item/reading-on-the-rise/books/

Read The Shadow Warriors. See link on the right.

Donald Westlake

Otto Penzler has a great remembrance of Donale E. Westlake in today's weekend section (Leisure & Arts) of the Wall Street Journal. I came to the MWA Edgar Awards too late to see or meet Westlake, but he must have been a delightful raconteur as well as a great mystery writer. I didn't know he had written the screen play for The Grifters, an exellent movie that I may put onto my Netflix queue and view again.

Speaking of Netflix, we saw The Visitor this week, another great movie. I find these small indy films much more entertaining and even gratifying than the big blockbuster films. Give me a cinematic experience with no blood, no explosions and no cars driving through plate glass. Yes!

Except for novels by Joseph Finder, Stephen Frey and Brad Meltzer, so-called business or financial thrillers are a rare breed. This puzzles me, because so many of us work or worked in offices, for businesses, and caught glimpses of the power struggles, the weird corporate cultures, the sleaze, the grasping and greediness, shoot, all the stuff that makes books work. At least television has tuned into this with The Office and 30 Rock.

Maybe these books aren't escapist enough. We want romance and dust blowing across the Khyber Pass. Finances require attention to detail, due diligence, and all those things requiring mental effort. Guess that's why Madoff got away with his schemes for so long. Nobody (well, hardly anyone) bothered with due diligence.

I can't read enough about the Madoff thing, and expect that writers are churning out international and financial intrigue fiction by the ream these days. The Journal today wrote that only BLACK PENS were permitted at Madoff HQ. No blue, no green, and red ink must have really been anathema. All good stuff. The secrecy, the conflicts. Just screams to be written about.

And how about the woman in Vienna who had that bank and had sold Madoff's stuff to the Russian Mafiosi and is now in hiding? There's a plot for you. Yes!

Hie ye to your keyboards and write. Good story lines, great conflict, all on a world stage with the most revolting people and sleaze and Palm Beach and big houses and the Hamptons! Jeeminy Criminy maybe I should write it myself.

Naw. But my drug dealer will have been burned in a similar Ponzi scheme. Hoo boy is he mad. I love Lotto.

Grapeshot, besotted with her own sleazy characters

A Writer's Day

My life seems normal to me, but sometimes I wonder. Today--up early, read papers, and start up bean soup. The ham bone to die for, soaked beans, onions, celery carrots, herbs, chicken broth, all bean soupy ingredients. And garlic. Lots of garlic. Get the soup going and iron all the Christmas napkins, etc. Marathon ironing.

The infamous ham bone!

We run errands for the umteenth day in a row. Huge backlog of errands, still. Finally home and ready to start on the robot fish. Eeek! The CNN video of the Colombian Navy boarding the drug submarine has disappeared. I find lots of other stuff, including some very interesting details about the Cali cartel, and it turns out I have actually intuited lots of good stuff in my In Flight book. Save and print huge amounts of drug trivia and not so trivia. The novel fed the short story and now the short story is feeding the novel and I am learning all kinds of interesting facts about the cocaine trade. Just what every woman needs to know.

S.O. and Annie are taking a nap, and I'm going to sneak upstairs and watch the food channel. So far not one word written but lots of good fodder.

And the soup upstairs, looking yummier by the minute and calling my name.

Grapeshot!

Yup!

Pine Needles Underfoot

The main floor of our house is infested with pine needles. We got the tree early, left it up late, and kept it watered, but man, after weeks, that tree was dry, and when it was consigned to the outside it shed needles and more needles as we dragged it kicking and screaming out of the house. The needles are all over everything: rugs, the cats dishes, clothes, everyplace. It's like there was a big pine needle explosion.

Yesterday was a truly miserable day, weather-wise. Temp barely above freezing, raining cats and dogs, slush everywhere, puddles too big for one's personal best broad jump, and we had seven, count-em, seven errands to run, appointments that just couldn't be blown off.

Got home late and had a 1)piggy house and 2) dinner to cook for company. Finally, at six I sat down with a big glass of rum with ice. Just the ticket. I made jambalaya with shrimp and andouille sausage. Lots of spices and hot stuff (Tabasco and cayenne). Zowie! Our noses were running but was it tasty. And enough for tonight, too. I whipped up a batch of apricot bars with apricots from the 'Cot King - Gonzales Orchards in California. http://www.apricotking.com/. Zowsa!

This recipe was the best and I added some grated lemon rind and a soupcon of lemon extract to make it extra yummy. Easy to make, too.

Another overly-busy day today, and what happened to the long, dreary days of winter? Now they're short dreary days, although we had sun today with plenty of black ice this morning to keep the pulse pounding and the legs attempting to balance. May I humbly suggest that Sperry makes good shoes to grip the road, the sidewalk or whatever. The boat deck, too, of course.

Tomorrow, my heart gladdens because I've got a ham bone (see photo) the size of Cincinnati to put into the navy bean soup. Ah, it will be a winter feast. And there is joy because no weight was gained between Thanksgiving and New Year, at least not weight which was not immediately discarded.

I was looking at e-publishers today and got myself into a funk again. Poor old World of Mirrors does not look like it is going to find a "traditional" publisher, and it is such a fun book. I had so wanted to have a book signing at the cute little bookstore in Hiddensee. Maybe one on Ruegen, and another in Stralsund. Merde.

Onward, onward. Through sleet and snow and dead of night and agent queries la la la!

Grapeshot

The New Year Lurches In Like A Zombie

Recovering from houseguests. Laundry. Leftovers. Lethargy. The 3 L's? After the laundry comes the ironing of napkins and pillowcases. Sheets can tend to themselves.

What is better than a meat pie? I had LOTS of leftover pork tenderloin. Cut it into bite-sized cubes, browned in butter with some scallions and garlic, sprinkled with flour and roast-beef seasoning (go figure) and added some stock mixed with a bit of white wine. Tossed in lots of chopped parsley and a couple big spoonsful of sour cream. Stir like crazy. Tossed in a bit of leftover rice since I had no potatoes, and a few cooked baby carrots and some frozen peas. Put a Pillsbury ready-made pie crust on top and cooked in a hot oven until the crust was brown.

We ate it last night and tonight. Yum!

Today was the day to exchange some presents at Macy's. I have to tell you that if everyone in the city and suburbs of Boston bought a bra and some panties at Macy's in South Shore Plaza, there would still be plenty for the people in Providence. Sheeesh! Never have I seen so much underwear, so many pj's. People, there are also a lot of really ugly clothes out there. Kohl's had some in the kids dept. and Macy's had some in the women's dept. Ugly. Ugly. Probably everyone could buy something ugly and the store would still have . . . well, you know.

We had a frugal lunch at Au Bon Pain. I noticed with sorrow that the tarragon chicken sandwich was not on the menu, nor was the Florentine tomato soup. Alas, alas. S.O. had broccoli cheddar soup and I scarfed down a spicy tuna sandwich. Lunch for two for $13.00 with lemonade is not bad. Some places a glass of wine would cost that much.

Hit the Body Shop for soap and foot cream and other sundries. The Body Shop rocks.

On the Scottish Highland Cattle front, the young black bull is gone, which must mean the freaked out pregnant cow is in residence. I fed them yesterday--three bags of fruit and veggie scraps. The grapefruit rinds from 4 people filled a whole bag.

I made apricot bars today. Hope they aren't overly sweet like the last batch. Current recipes can way overdo the sugar.

Promiscuous Mode received another rejection today. I am back in my drug lord's head, which is not a bad place to be as he daydreams of Cali and Cartagena.

Onward,



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Again, Like Lemmings to the Sea

We did it again! Went to the Assyrian Show at the MFA today. The museum was a mob scene, with the coat check line snaking thru the downstairs and people at the Assyrian show four deep in front of the art pieces. Long, long line for the cafe. Pricey restaurant bustling at 2:00 p.m. Garden Cafe a mob scene of kids and strollers reminiscent of the Science Museum.

What is going on? Last year when we were out and about during this week it wasn't anywhere near so crazy.

Has to be the economy, but one wonders. We are members and get tickets to the special shows for free, but to get into the Assyrian show is $25.00 a pop for non-member adults. Of course it's way cheaper than The Grinch or The Nutcracker. We spent $70.00 for lunch for four with two drinks and 2 desserts. Parking was $12.00 with the member's discount, so the day came it an under $100 for out little quartet.

Or are people just staying out of the stores? Did they stay home instead of going skiing or to Florida or the Caribbean? All possibilities.

We didn't hit the Children's Museum or the Gardner Museum, but I have a hunch the crowds and the bustle would have been the same at those locales.

Is everyone on a staycation? It's nice to see people out and about, enjoying science and culture and history. At least they aren't hunkering down and not leaving the house. But something is going on, and I don't have clue one. Ideas, anyone?

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Donald Westlake dead at 75

On New Year's Eve, the mystery writing world lost a talented and wildly productive writer. Donald Westlake still wrote on a manual typewriter. I am awed that anyone could birth so many books without resorting to a computer. He must be one of the last. Here is the New York Times Obit.

Here is the link: http://www.nytimes.com/2009/01/02/books/02westlake.html?_r=1

For What It's Worth

Suggested by the blog Orange Crate Art.

Put the first sentence of every month in 2008 into your blog. Here goes:

Last night we stayed in and watched the marathon of old Pink Panther movies, and after New Year's we watched an old Peter Sellers movie (1968) called "The Party."

O.K., so I've been working out during the new year; however, not one, but two new habits are gaining ground and it's so annoying. 1) TV Watching 2) Eating after dinner

Back from Florida.

Bad Trip is the name of my new short story, which I had hoped to finish and polish in time to send into Level Best Books, but it didn't happen, because home nursing care and hospital visits are not conducive to writing.

Mayday and we have golden sun, although it froze last night and fortunately I brought two sprouted seedlings indoors.

The halibut recipe has been languishing in my "grill" cookbook for two years.

I am constantly amazed at the stupidity, cupidity and surprise by people who should know better.

So we're off to the Windy City.

All of a sudden the airwaves are full of insipid commercials with three women.


O.K., I'm a salmon snob, which is to say I like the wild salmon, not the farm raised mushy, strong/strange tasting fish.


This is the first election ever when I have given money to a candidate.

Ah, when the dream dies, it dies slowly and painfully.


If there is meaning to be gleaned, well, I don't know.

Happy New Year, I Think

What's all this stuff about "happy?" Do we need happy? Suddenly prosperous has a good sturdy sound. Healthy, now that's good, too, as in affordable health care. How about wishing people, "have a steady job!" Have a car that runs. Hope you keep your house. May you always afford tuition. May you be able to go to the grocery store and buy fresh produce! May you have energy and creativity enough to shop the sales and bargains. Iron your shirts. Wash your sweaters. Change your oil.

I see I have gone too far. So let's have a practical New Year, where we learn such basic stuff as vegetable gardening and home canning and freezing, yea, even drying.

Learn to sew or knit?

Again, I see I have gone too far, but the homemade granola bars I made are mega-yum.

Learn to cook basic stuff from scratch, for heaven's sake. A whole chicken in lieu of parts.

And of course, lose ten pounds. And bring world peace. One about as easy as the other.

I didn't gain any weight this year. Worked out regularly. Wrote regularly. Queried my books. Worked hard. Networked. Gave speeches. Baked bread.

So, it wasn't a bad year if one discounts net worth. My net worth is not my net worth.

We had a cheap New Year's Eve. Watched old home movies. Saw "Elf". (Yuck). Watched the ball drop in Times Square on TV. Had fab home made pizzas with a few creative scrounges.

So. Some kind of New Year. Whatever your little heart desires. Even a frivolous one.

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Happy New Year Photo from Dreams Time