Tonight I decided that if I was controlling reitrement, it had to be about spontaneity. Tomorrow is Jacob's third birthday but I will be signing books in Albany, Texas. I'll miss the pool party, which doesn't bother me, and I'll get there in time for the heavy hors d'ouevres supper. I called Jamie to make sure they'd drive me home after supper, and he suggested I come home with them to Frisco and spend Father's Day. I said I'd think about it, and after about two minutes thought, I started packing a bag, arranging pet care, etc. I don't get that many chances to see those girls, and they apparently have something "special" planned for Father's Day, so it should be fun. I will probably have to take the train back Monday morning (unless by chance Jamie drives me to meet Jordan and family in Coppell Sunday night), so I might miss work Monday. But, hey, I'm on the edge of retirement. I'm practicing for a new life.
So all thoughts of work went out of my mind tonight. I did odd jobs, like laundry, writing a short piece for the TCU Press newsletter, ordering books for my Kindle--on the topic I want to explore: the use of food in mysteries. It's so prevalent these days, I'm curious about why it works so well and wondering if I should jump into the overcrowded pool. Earlier this week I queried the company that has had my first mystery for six months with no response and got--no response. So my evening project has been revising the sequel but I have given it up for this evening and probably until Monday evening. Good thing to let it burble in the back of my mind.