The other day we ate Sunday breakfast at Ol' South Pancake House, a local institution that Jamie particularly loves. I was reminded of Jordan's wedding day when we ate there. The waitress found out that Jordan would be married that evening and arrived with a single pancake topped with whipped cream and strawberries and a lone candle. As she presented it, she sang, "The party's over . . . ." That's how I feel. The party's over, but the glow lingers on. And for me, my birthday continued through yesterday--the actual day--when the office gang took me to Cafe Aspen, the same favorite place Jordan and I ate Monday. And last night, Jeannie, Betty and I celebrated at Lanny's Alta Cocina, an upscale (to put it mildly) Mexican restaurant--haute cuisine from the amuse bouche to the chocolate whatever that came as the birthday dessert. Betty and I shared rack of lamb, and it was absolutelly delicious.
But I am getting back to work. At the office I've been busy catching up on details and dealing with a load of acquisitions--rejecting some, considering some at length, and asking, so far, for two complete manuscripts and a formal proposal.
At home I've gotten things done too, but it gnaws at me that I'm not back to the mystery. The Guppies listserv (Going to be Published) has been full of peole offering their writing schedules and how to avoid distractions. It makes me realize my schedule is very haphazard most of the time, unless I'm burning with an idea. I wonder if I'm committed enough to the project to really make it happen. On the other hand, if I have a chance to play with grandchildren or have dinner with friends, I hate to pass up the opportunity. Part of my philosophy these days is "Carpe diem!" In that mood, I fixed dinner for Jordan and Jacob tonight--Jacob was in a sweet affectionate mood (grab it while you can!) but he'd had a rough day. Another kid bit him, hard enough to break the skin. He didn't want to talk about it and wouldn't let his mom look at it (I imagine she will at bath time tonight).
Julia Spencer-Fleming is part of my problem, part of the reason I'm not writing (I hope she has one of those services that alerts her every time her name or books are mentioned anywhere on the web). I read the first two of her Clare Fergusson/Russ Van Alstyne mysteries about a month ago and really got wrapped up in them. Then a friend brought me not one but three more, and I've almost been unable to tear myself away for constructive work. Tonight I must polish a column and get it off and respond to a request for a partial manuscript from a publisher--I should be more excited, but all I can think is I want to read tonight. Spencer-Fleming has constructed a wonderful fictional world, and she tells compelling stories. Wish I could write like that.
Excuse me. I'm getting to work.