More Dogfights in Hummingbird Land

This afternoon we had four humming birds in the garden at once time. Bear in mind that the flower garden part of the garden is a planter box about 6 x 6. Crazy aerial dive bombing and then everyone takes off.

I have discovered that what I called "butterfly bush" or butterfly weed" in my garden is actually something call "Joe Pye Weed." It's a perennial with purple blossoms and the little hummers can't get enough of its nectar. They were also seen today on the red geraniums, the red impatiens, the fuschia, and one of them loves to sit on a wee branch of the pole bean plant. It must fit his tiny feet.

The Joe Pye Weed also attracts butterflies and of course, bees. I have lots of flowers the bees like, esp. the oregano blossoms and the sage. Most of my bees seem to be bumblebees. As a kid I was afraid of them, but they seem mostly benign.

My garden makes me happy. We tossed a handful of our own cherry tomatoes into our salad and garnished it with cilantro, croutons and feta. Yum! The tomatoes and the herbs along with the beans are so tasty now. I planted spinach and more cilantro.

The orange yogurt bread I baked yesterday looked spectacular. Must have been the fancy Greek yogurt. I wrapped it in foil and froze, thereby forgetting to take a photo. How dumb can you be? Just imagine it perfect!!!

We're going to the Berkshires this weekend. The cats have their sitter/nurse and we'll fill all the bird feeders in the morning. Have to nuture our feathered friends.

Grapeshot

Dogfight Above the Petunias

Two ruby-throats got into it this afternoon above the petunia planter. They are very territorial and soooo feisty. Took off in different directions.

In the garden, the "butterfly bush," now blooming, is very popular with the hummers as well as the butterflies, and the bees are also attracted.

Significant Other took the photo late this afternoon after the dogfight. A bird has got to get some energy for the next confrontation.

It takes a lot of time and effort to maintain a garden, but the payback is wonderful, don't you think?

Clafouti's Rock!

The nectarine clafouti in all its glory. Tasted like a dream. I can't even tell you how fast this goes together. Peel the fruit and slice, (2.5 nectarines) measure the milk,sugar,eggs, vanilla, salt and flour into the blender. Blend for 60 seconds. Pour a very thin layer into the heat-proof dish and set over a low burner for a minute or so. When that is almost "set," pour in the fruit and then pour the contents of the blender over the fruit. Smooth with the back of a spoon. Put in a 350 degree oven for about an hour.

Admire and eat. We each put a spoonful (any more is piggy) of heavy cream over the top. Makes 6 servings, and eating two at one sitting is tempting but would also be piggy.

Apparently the new interest in Julia Child's recipes has spurred gasps and palpitations from the low-fat freaks who blanche at the words "whole eggs" "butter" and, OMG, "heavy cream." Why do you think it tastes so good, dummy?

I confess that 2% milk, which is what we usually have, does not impair the clafouti. I buy whole milk to make ice cream. The NY Times (or was it the Globe) had a dynamite recipe for a black berry (be still my heart) clafouti.

Kids, this is a fab easy recipe for the dog days of summer when you don't feel very ambitious, but you have to do something with all that fruit you overbought. Google any recipe. Mine calls for 3 eggs and is plenty rich.

Off to do some writing, and then to bake the orange yogurt bread I found on the web. I'm taking it to our weekend hosts. Can freeze in the meantime to avoid last minute frenzy. Hate that last minute frenzy. I bought some fancy whole milk Greek yogurt, and have a beautiful naval orange. I've blogged about it before, so seek and ye shall field.

Tra la! Tra la!

Grapeshot who is feeling frisky and energetic this morning--about half her age, actually.

Mastering the Art of French Cooking

Waaaay Back in the Day.


Back in the day, I used to have elegant dinner parties, usually eight, since that's how many the table held comfortably, and sometimes I'd cook from Julia Child. I believe Veau Prince Orloff is as fancy as I ever got. Sometimes I made that fancy dish where you slather a filet of beef with pate, and then wrap the whole business in pastry, and even cut out little decorative doo-dads out of pastry to put on top. Beef Wellington. A big-assed production to be sure.

When I was whipping up these delectables, I weighed 103 pounds and smoked like a chimney, chased my little boys around, played nonstop tennis and only sat down to eat and read the paper. If we ate like that now, we'd weigh, well, we'd weigh a whole lot more than we already do.

Julia Child's masterwork is now the #1 best seller on the "how to" non-fiction list. As I type, I have the first edition 1961 in front of me. I think it was not such a big best seller back then, because in 1961 I didn't know how to cook and would have been intimidated as hell if someone had given me such a monster treatise on cooking.

So my copy of Julia arrived much later, but still a first edition. The Veau (Veal) Prince Orloff is a production, but there are many recipes which are not labor intensive at all, and don't require a king's ransom in ingredients.

Before I stopped eating veal, I always made Saute de veau Marengo, which was a very simple veal stew with tomatoes, onions and mushrooms. One could even use white vermouth as the wine. It was delicious and perfect for now when one can buy or even grow decent tomatoes.

Julia's recipe for ratatouille will never be beat, but it is a pain in the ass to make, cooking every veggie separately. But it you want to know le vrai ratatouille, whip up a bunch. Again, this season is the perfect time. I love it cold, and it's sooooo good for you.

Another simple recipe, peasant food, really is a Clafouti. A Clafouti (a fruit flan) goes together in minutes with milk, eggs, flour and sugar. Use whatever fruit. I have a fab recipe, not Julia's for bananas. Cherries are traditional. I'm thinking of a nectarine one this evening.

Tonight we're having a shrimp salad with lots of veggies, a Penzey's recipe. We're had a modicum of luck dropping a few pounds with main course salads (skip the cheese), soups and grilled meat and veggies. We eat Insalata Caprese daily. Soooo good. Those home grown tomatoes really up the ante, flavor-wise.

I sent out a bunch of queries, esp. for Festival Madness, and got back a bunch of not-interesteds. Burning Man starts in 3 days, and I was hoping to drum up some interest. Not. Trying to keep a stiff upper lip, as a short story will be published in a couple of months, and I have some other irons in the fire. It's hard, though, character-building one could say.

I am amazed that I'm still writing, still enjoying it. Only a crazy person . . .

Crazy as a loon,

Grapeshot

Researching Your Settings: the Fun Part of Writing

Mr. Clucky with owner.


Crime fiction novelist Elmore Leonard hates to do research. Leonard has finally made enough money writing to hire a full time research assistant. His researcher was down in Harlan County, Kentucky and ran across a local recipe for baked possum. The researcher said, “I knew Leonard would get a kick out of it.”
This quotation is from Leonard’s story, “Fire in the Hole.” Note that he doesn’t mention the recipe.

A U.S. Marshall is speaking to a woman charged with killing an abusive husband..
“He’d get on me for the least thing. Like if he found a hair in his baked possum. Or I didn’t get out all the scent glands. He’d have a fit, throw his supper at me, the plate, the whole mess.”

Every novel has a setting, and the author needs to bring setting alive with vivid description and sharp details. The more specific and even bizarre the details, the better the author can immerse her reader in the story.

The first half of my current suspense novel is set in South Florida. Over the years I’ve visited this area often, over twenty trips, but I had never thought of writing about it.

Until now.

I don’t have the luxury of a research assistant, and I used my memory and the web to fill in most of the blanks. After I had completed the first draft of the Florida section, I still needed some details and to confirm some facts.

I made a list, called a friend and fellow writer, a native-Floridian and asked if she wanted to spend a few days helping me do some research. Joan was game, and I booked a cheap flight on Jet Blue. My novel is set in June, and I wanted to visit Florida in June.

The devil is in the details. You better get it right.

Joan drove me to the neighborhood in Boca Raton where my character lived. I had written an exciting scene where the character swims across a canal to get away from some bad guys. She swims and swims and even dives deep to avoid a boat propeller. We drove to the canal and stopped. Ooops!

I could have swum the canal in a few stokes. There was barely enough room for two boats to pass each other. My heart sank. Was my exciting scene toast? I was glum until we drove a block and behold the Inland Waterway! Boats galore, and the perfect distance for the character to swim. An easy fix. Sure glad we checked that out.

You better get it right.

The next day we traveled to Key West where I had only been once, and I needed to confirm my memories of the Keys. While Joan drove, I made notes of everything that caught my eye:

the color of the water
the way the cormorants sat on the power lines
everything that caught my eye
a slew of adult video stores
Joan identified the Royal Poinciana trees in bloom
Have you hugged a dolphin today?
Hog’s Breath Beer
Fish Murals
All good stuff. But what would my character notice?

Maybe too much good stuff.

After you have spent time and money on research, you want to put every little detail into your manuscript. But a novel is not a travelogue. The writer must choose. Leonard chose baked possum.

I had forgotten how close the houses are to each other in Key West. I had forgotten how hot it is in Key West.

To find shade, Joan and I took a trolley tour and the trolley passed a beach where my character parks and makes a phone call. She waits for a call back. What does she see while she’s waiting? A long pier, old rotten pilings sticking out of the water, beach barbecues, blue umbrellas, an orange kayak. My character notices everything because there’s nothing to do but wait and look at the water. Ten a.m. and it’s hot already. The icing on the cherry Danish she’s eating begins to melt.

I want to put you, the reader, on that beach with that character.

Another characters is a Colombian drug lord, a big stretch for a Massachusetts suburban housewife. But I’m pretty far into his head, and trying like the dickens not to make him a cliché. He always has lunch at a deli in Miami. Joan and I have lunch at the deli, too. There are tables of young men in suits. They all place their cell phones or Blackberrys on the table in front of them. Black cell phones on gray tables. A cell phone is a huge plot point in the deli. The image of a black phone on the gray table.

From Homer to J.K. Rowling, a writer creates a sense of place with authentic details
Joan and I drive to the Lincoln Road Mall in South Beach where I’ve set another scene. We’re sipping iced coffee at a sidewalk café. I was looking for a Cuban restaurant, but I found something better, a rooster who rides on his owner’s bicycle handlebars, crowing, a common sight at Lincoln Road Mall. Later, Joan sends me a newspaper article about Mr. Clucky, so now I even know his name.

Lotto, my drug lord and his sidekick Enrique are sitting outside at a café in the Mall. Here’s what I wrote.

Nearby a rooster crowed. Enrique’s smile became a wide-eyed stare of astonishment.
Lotto followed Enrique’s gaze. A man on a bicycle whipped through the crowd with a brazen white gallo clutching the handlebars, wattles erect and trumpeting like it was resurrection day.
“Man, did you see that?” asked Enrique. “What kind of loco place is this?”
Lotto debated whether to tell Enrique that everybody around the Lincoln Road Mall knew Mr. Clucky, the rooster. He decided not to. Enrique would never shut up about it.

Baked Possum and Mr. Clucky: researching your settings is the fun part of writing

No Will Power Whatsoever

I no more had the "farmgirl" blog in my emailbox, than I bought 3 boxes of blueberries at .99 each at Roche Brothers. Next I was whipping up a recipes of these so-called Blueberry Breakfast Bars. I say so-called because they are also lunch bars, dinner bars and snack bars. I'm going to freeze some for our road trips. We like to lunch in the byways, parks, and along a lake or a stream. The Blueberry Breakfast Bars would indeed break any fast.

Easy to make, but the 3 layers take a bit of time. Time well spent.

I used 1/4 whole wheat flour instead of all white. Used the Silver Palate special oatmeal which I happened to have. If the berries are sweet like mine were, you can cut down on the sugar. Used half Crisco, half-butter for the streusel topping. Tasted like a million dollars.

http://foodiefarmgirl.blogspot.com/2006/06/blueberry-breakfast-bars.html?utm_source=feedblitz&utm_medium=FeedBlitzEmail&utm_content=46024&utm_campaign=Nightly_%272009-08-15+01%3a30%3a00%27

We are also eating a tomato rice soup from Provence this week, which is lo-cal and extra yummy, conditions which do not always go together. I should have baked a nice loaf of bread but we're eating breadsticks. I like the skinny "grissini."

Another ripe tomato from he garden, but the cherry tomatos have the blight. Damn, they were doing so well.

Onward,

Grapeshot

The Writing Life

My desktop. Sometimes, it's even messier.

It doesn't sound like much, but I've written ten pages this week. Think about it. If I did that every week, I'd have 520 pages at year's end, way more than enough for a book. You have to get into the groove. The important thing is to get something, practically anything, no matter how crappy, down on paper such that you can fix it.

Writing is rewriting. Dunno who said that, but it's true.

I had to do a lot of rewriting, even change the setting for one of the scenes. Surfed the web to become inspired. Looking for a certain kind of campground, and then I found it, and everything finally fell into place. Always aiming for authenticity.

If you have emotion (and you should) in a scene, then you need to dig deep to find the right words to express it. Unhackneyed words, the hardest.

I'm loosing track of the time of the story, and will have to put together a little calendar. That always helps a lot. Need to know if it's midsummer yet, and when would the sun be setting in New York state at that time of year. Even if it's fiction, you still need to get all the details right. Authenticity, remember? Yup.

Now, I'll do one more pass, then onward to Chicago, the boyfriend's nutty ex-wife, the theft of the laptop, and yet another plot point. Keep stringing out the plot like a string of pearls with an emerald stuck in (the surprise) every now and then.

Hard work, is writing. Rewriting not so intense, but also hard, just getting it exactly right. Of course what I think is right not necessarily shared by agents and editors or writing group.

Writing is getting your butt kicked to Madagascar and back.

Off to join Red Sox Nation in Texas, the state of my higher education. I daresay the ball park won't reek of Italian sausage. The smell did go away. Felt like a skunk bathing in ketchup.

So it goes.

Grapeshot

Did I say that writing is rewriting?

A Walk on the Not So Wild Side

We love our Audubon Preserve, and it's a relaxing walk around the lake, gawking at the waterfowl and whatever appears. We saw turtles and a cheeky chipmunk as well as beaucoup birds. The vistas across the water are very fine. Nature soothes one's soul.

Red Sox Nation revisted

Last night, for the first time since May, 2004, we saw a Red Sox game, a big comeback game after the road trip debacle with Tampa Bay and the Yankees. Yeecch.

We tried a new restaurant, Cafeteria Boston, on Newbury St., mentioned in Sunday's Boston Globe as a spot where Gisele Bundchen hangs out. No Gisele, but an interesting crowd, especially the passing throng on Newbury Street where the world marched by, many en route to Fenway Park, a long slog in the 91 degree heat.

However, we discovered it was Restaurant Week, and ordered from the "specials" menu. I had a salad with roasted beets and chevre, with hanger steak entree, and fresh berries for dessert. Didn't wreck the diet, except for the yummy roasted potatos with the steak. Lots of greenery, and I resisted the bread basket.

At Fenway park, we must have been sitting downwind from the Italian sausage and peppers cooking area. After a while the odor becomes a stench, and I envisioned hair and clothing reeking of Italian sausage. May, it was strong.

The game was exciting, with mega-energy when Papelbon came in to pitch at the top of the ninth with the tying and winning runs on base. Yowza! Mega-excitement, too. The sound system plays I'm Shipping Up to Boston (from The Departed soundtrack- the Drop Kick Murphys). They play it LOUD and the crowd goes crazy. The energy really pumps you up.

The only downer was the my Charlie Card stopped functioning, claiming to be expired, still with money on it, and now I have to go to the T HQ to get things straightened out. Couldn't add to the card or anything. Just kaput.

There was a huge mob of people trying to get on the T at Kenmore, and of course the person trying to help me navigate the ticket machines was equally clueless, and we ended up in Chinese. It was ugly, and who knows how many people cursed the ididotic woman who was too dumb to buy a ticket. It was so damn hot in the bowels of Kenmore that one of my dollar bills was too WILTED to feed into the machine.

However, the transportation craziness couldn't dent the fine mood of a Red Sox victory, particularly such an exciting one with a finish that couldn't be beat! :)

More anon,

Grapeshot

Cyber-warfare novel

The takedown of Twitter and news of various other hacks always makes me think of my cyber-war novel, The Shadow Warriors.

If "information warfare" broke out, I'd be sitting in the catbird seat with a cool book about it, but how would I sell the book, which is mainly sold via the Internet?

In the meantime, Spenser's Mystery Books is featuring The Shadow Warriors this week, and here is the link. Way cheaper than Amazon by the way. http://www.spensersmysterybooks.com/

On the food front, I tried an original Mexican recipe from Bon Appetit, and the sauce has a big afterkick that maybe the guests won't like. The chilis were not supposed to be hot, but no one told the chilis. We're having the spicy sauce on a pork tenderloin, and I'm serving grilled corn, zucchini, summer squashe and egg plant. All saturated with fresh herbs from the garden and healthy olive oil. Salad will have an avocado to carry out the mostly Mexican theme.

I made lemon-lime ice milk in my ice cream maker, and I'm dipping mint sprigs in dark chocolate for a garnish. How cool is that? Stay tuned for the photos. The table looks great, too. Sometimes it's nice to make the effort.

Onward,

Grapeshot

The New England Crimebake, a Mystery Conference

Yours truly is a founding member of the New England Crimebake, begun eight years ago in a room at the Morse Institute in Natick with the late evening summer sun streaming in the windows and eight nervous women wondering if they could get this thing off the ground. We did, and the rest is mystery history.

This year, the talented and gracious Sue Grafton will be our guest of honor. Writers, fans and thinking-about-it writers will convene at the Dedham Hilton for a weekend of murder and mayhem, on the page and in the mind but definitely not on the police blotter.

Here is some information from our excellent PR committee about the event.

THE ABC’S OF The New England CRIME BAKE

G is for Grafton, Sue Grafton, who will be Guest of Honor at the New England Crime Bake on November 13, 14, 15, 2009 at The Boston/Dedham Hilton. Grafton is the author of the much loved series featuring private investigator, Kinsey Millhone, an irreverent, sharp-tongued loner, who cuts her hair with manicure scissors and carries a wrinkle-free black dress in her purse for special occasions. Grafton’s 21st novel in the alphabet series will be U is for Undertow.

R is for Registration which is now open at http://www.crimebake.org/ with fabulous choices for Master Classes on Friday night, including sessions on Developing Character, Revision, Television Techniques and Writing Short Stories. Saturday and Sunday are packed with fascinating panels.

A is for an abundance of Authors, Agents and Editors, panelists at Crime Bake, with whom you can schedule a private pitch session and have a manuscript critique.

F is for Free seminars about how to pitch and market your book and a Free Pizza Party. F is for Forensics taught by an old fashioned Private Investigator and a real Crime Lab Director. F is for Fans who come to Crime Bake to hear their favorite authors share the secrets behind their stories. F is for the Fun we all have each year which is why so many people return to Crime Bake year after year and to keep meeting new Friends!

T is for the countless Tips and Techniques about how to write and publish a mystery from authors who have been there and want to help you.

O is for Opportunity. Where else can you meet and mingle with so many savvy agents, talented authors and experts on crime writing? Whether at breakfast, the Cocktail Party or Banquet, you will be treated to the company of some of the most talented names in mystery writing.

N is for NOW. Register before rooms are sold out and classes are filled. With so many great events, you can’t afford to miss Crime Bake this year!

My last year on the Committee. Hope to see you there.

Grapeshot

Next Food Network Star

The garden, lush and colorful. The bag of impatiens has been particularly good this year, and the geraniums are loaded with blooms. The red nasturtiums have also been fine. The tiny hummingbird visited the new feeder and also the purple sage (not visible) where he went up and down the blooms. The blasted ants just won't leave the feeder alone.

My small guest watched the Next Food Network Star with me and we didn't think Melissa had a chance but she suprised us. Last night I tried her four step dinner plan: bread the meat and saute, add aromatics, add liquid, return meat, swirl in butter and serve. I had some chicken tenders and I used an egg then panko for the breading. Sauteed in half-butter, half-canola oil, the yin and yang if you will. When the chicken was cooked, I put it in a warm oven and added 4 split green onions to the pan, 2 big cloves of garlic, slivered, and 2 home grown plum tomatoes, sliced. Added white wine to get up all the "fond," then returned the chicken to the pan and swirled in the butter. We ate it on a bed of microwaved spinach. Yum! I just used the ingredients on hand, which was Melissa's plan, too. It really works. Would have never thought of serving on the spinach, but we are in light-diet mode, and carbs are carefully chosen.

Tonight, I'm making shrimp with tomatoes, olives, herbs and feta. Another low-carb affair. We have discovered that grissini, thin breadsticks, have few carbs and calories. A salad will round out the meal. We're doing either soup, salad or diet fare the rest of the month. I'll report in on how much weight, if any, was lost.

The plum tomatoes appear to have avoided the blight, as have the cherry and some in a pot on the other side of the house.

The herbs are in full swing, and I need to replant cilantro and dill. We love cucumbers in dill and cilantro in anything. Thinking some tortilla soup would go down easily. Bon appetit.

Grapeshot

The tomato blight

Sigh! This was the year that I would have tomato soup, tomato bread salad, home made salsa, gazpacho, tomatoes provencal. Well, you know.

Instead we had 6 weeks of rain and now the blight. I still have three plants in pots, but the tomato plants in the garden have been destroyed. The best laid plans of mice and men, but I don't think mice actually make too many plans. What they make is nests in the garage. Even in the doll house. Bad mousie!

The last houseguest left today, and except for a mountain of laundry, yea, veritable alps of laundry, we're all set. I've been away from my book for so long that I printed it out to read and discover what I had actually written. So far, I am impressed with the beginning. Did I actually write that? Not bad.

The papers have had stories about information warfare and I always wonder if it really happened, then would The Shadow Warriors take off? Who knows?

I watched the finals of The Next Food Network Star, and like both finalists, even tried the winners 4 step dinner plan tonight and it was a winner, too. Of course, after the pasta and the ice cream and all the meals out, we will have to go into serious diet mode. Summer salads beckon. Hey, it can't be THAT BAD. Well, can it?

Grapeshot

Weird Cell Phone Sitings

Woman in SUV with a cigarette in one hand and her cell in the other. She was driving with her knees?

Today at Logan, woman in restroom stall on the phone. Toilets flushing in the various stalls. Whither discretion?

Indeed.

Grapeshot

An Alert Reader

An alert reader wrote:
You took the Hy-Line, the movie theater was razed, and the last movie was the Poseidon Adventure.

Apropos Nantucket. Did I misspell Traffik? See the cars, avoid the cars. Watch the cars trying to go up the one-way streets the WRONG way. Look at the blond women on their cell phones. Run fast!

I try to be meticulous in my novels, but not so much in the blog. Ye gods, who knows? Maybe literary agents are combing it for typos as a reason to reject.

Lots of interesting books reviewed in the NY Times today. No doldrums this August.

Smoked salmon (wasn't sure about the spelling of "lox") and bagels for breakfast today in honor of the houseguests. Me, I'm an Eastern Colorado girl who would just have soon have white toast and jelly.

The girl can't help it.

Some good thoughts for my novel's plot today. Sometimes a bit of down time is a good thing.

So sad, yesterday, at Kate's Mystery Bookstore, when all the authors that Kate has supported over the years arrived to help back. The famous and like moi, the not-so-famous. Kate has a generous heart and will sorely be missed by readers of the genre as well as us scribblers. Alas, alas.

Grapeshot

Deja Vu all over again

We just completed our annual trip to Nantucket. I liked how the Hi-Line called the slow ferry the "traditional" ferry and the high speed, of course, was the high-speed. Both were full on Friday morning. Windy and cool, but warm on land.

We ate, as is our wont, at the Rope Walk, right on the water, and the fish and chips were so good and the wine, a Pinot Grigio "Oggi" was fab. A walk up Main Street with some things the same and others different. Lots of "blingy" jewelry stores and less art galleries, a comment on the kind of money that has moved into town the last fifteen years.

I love the cottage gardens and the funk and that Murray's Toggery hasn't changed much in 40 years. Arno's still there, still crowded. The movie theater has been rased, where there is unfortunately a missing plaque commenorating that Grapeshot questioned the proprietor as to whether the popcorn contained "real" butter and was told of course. Never mind that the so-called butter was orange as a tropical sunset. The entire family agrees that the last movie seen there was The Posidon Adventure.

We had ice cream at the Juice Bar and it wasn't beach weather, so we didn't go, but we prowled thru the town and our small guest bought a few souvenirs and I found a brown t-shirt, so practical but hard to find. That's Murray's for you.

Traffic terrible, and people on cell phones and otherwise clueless. (see next post).

I was very tempted by a big-assed wind gong at the Whaling Museum that sounds like the bell buoy coming into the harbor, but was fearful the neighbors might object, as it was damned loud.

This morning my cute little hummingbird was at the NEW feeder, and he ate and ate. Fighting the tomato blight. Most seem all right. First the rain then the fungus. Weird orange stuff growing in the wildflower garden. Pretty but deadly looking.

I went to Kate's Mystery books to help pack up the store which is closing. The end of an era. Alas and alack.