Tag: meal

The last one, I swear

I couldn’t stop posting in LJ today without first thanking everyone who helped make the signing at Murder By the Book so wonderful last night, including:

Those who e-mailed me beforehand to wish me luck.

Those who attended and purchased books. I have to make special note of the lovely woman who was sent by her friend, whytraven; some wonderful people who work with Tom; Trish, who’s been busy for a while getting her play ready to debut in February (there’ll be MUCH more news on that as the date approaches); and the usual suspects including Amy, Nora, Jason, Lindsey, and Rhonda.

Everything beyond the first row was pretty much a blur, and afterward, I squinted at a woman who held out a book for me to sign. “Who shall I sign it to?” I asked. “Princess Patti!” she answered. OMG. This is the lovely Pat, who I met when I worked at Bookstop and who is one of the greatest friends, teachers, and advisors I ever had. As she pointed out, we haven’t seen each other for nearly ten years, but still… I vow that from now on, I will wear my glasses. I can lie about being 35, but my eyes haven’t seen 35 in–uh, a long time. Pat will probably never read my LJ, but just in case, THANK YOU for coming, and that’s it. I’m coming to visit you SOON.

Here’s another nice surprise from the night.


Alan, who I first met at Crossroads, the now-closed Houston bookstore, showed up to be sweet to me and pick on Tim. Which is how we all like it.


Afterward, Lynne treated a few of us to dinner at Baba Yega. Here you see my mom, Lynne, me, and Tom, standing behind The Brides (because I still call them that), Rhonda and Lindsey.

Since I’m spoiled by having my writing partners sit next to me at signings, it was a tremendous relief to sign with two bright, funny, talented women whose new novels are set in Houston.


Me with Colleen Thompson, author of several books including Heat Lightning, and L.A. Starks, author of 13 Days: The Pythagoras Conspiracy. Please click on their names to visit their web sites.

Thank you to everyone at Murder By the Book, especially David and McKenna, for putting together a great event. And finally, I have to once again give props to the fantastic Dean James. Dean used to manage Murder By the Book. Though he’s now teaching and writing full time, he still made the effort to connect me to the store. It was good of them to host me as a local author even though I don’t write suspense or mystery. Dean has always been one of the most encouraging, positive, helpful authors I’ve ever met, as well as a delightful person.

Dean, writing as Jimmie Ruth Evans, will be signing his third Trailer Park Mystery, Best Served Cold, at Murder By the Book on January 6. I can’t wait!

The ones without a voice

When one stays up until after 6 a.m. writing (probably badly), she doesn’t have breakfast until around 4 p.m. A mild cream of wheat topped with some mixed fruit. Today’s coffee cup is brought to you by the Humane Society of the United States.

If you want a companion animal, consider adoption from a local shelter or rescue group. Check out these points to consider before choosing a companion, including a couple of links related to adopting cats and dogs.

Remember, it’s almost never a good idea to surprise anyone with a pet as a gift. Many, many animals end up in shelters or homeless after holidays because of this.

Any time of year is a good time to make a donation to your local animal assistance agencies. Call them or check their Web sites to see what their specific needs are.

Thank you for kindness toward the ones who can’t speak for themselves.

It’s Election Day!

Yes, so I did that, as I was instructed by FARB as well as the 20 to 30 e-mails I’ve gotten daily over the past month and the five to ten phone calls that began at 8:30 a.m. every day including Sunday for the past two weeks. LEAVE ME ALONE NOW! What I couldn’t believe was that as I walked out of the school where I vote, I thought, At last. That hippie guy strumming his guitar and saying, “Vote for Kinky!” and the half-dozen campaigners standing on the sidewalk will let me be. But no. A man leaped barriers, pushed his friends aside, said, “I MUST GIVE THIS TO HER!” and shoved a card into my hand because he’s RUNNING NEXT YEAR.

I always vote but can this be finished now? To reward myself, I got a turkey chef salad from Schlotzsky’s, even though every ingredient that is in it is also in my refrigerator (okay, exchange the turkey for chicken, but let’s not quibble).

I saw the Timpire emerge from his lair earlier with Rexford G. Lambert, but they’ve already voted. In fact, this is Texas. Rex probably voted three times.

Stalking the Wedding Bitch


Hours before the wedding was scheduled to take place, I began to stalk the Wedding Bitch. Here, I’d scoped out where he’d be sitting. Every place card had a wine stopper attached, a gift from The Brides to all their guests.


The centerpiece at the Wedding Bitch’s table. I’m including it because it’s pretty.


His wine glass remained unfilled, but the level in his water glass mysteriously lowered over time. Could it be he was taking a quick drink while my attention was elsewhere?


A salad was placed for the Wedding Bitch. I thought this would draw him out. He likes salad. Rumor has it that he swooped by, picked up the salad, and gave it to a hungry DJ, though.


Mmmmm, chicken. Could he resist?


This looks familiar. I’m sure it’s the hand of the Wedding Bitch. Except… he’s holding his fork in his left hand. The Wedding Bitch is right-handed. Maybe it’s that European thing wherein the knife stays in the right hand and the fork in the left. Maybe it’s not the Wedding Bitch at all.


It was possible that wedding cake would lure him out…


One of them was even chocolate…


CAUGHT! Spotted on a speaker tucked in an out of the way place. I knew the Wedding Bitch could be captured with cake. He chose the cake with the yummy raspberry filling.

The wedding was beautiful and enormously moving. But that story is for others to tell. Except–one of my favorite moments was after The Brides had some time of seclusion following the ceremony, they joined us to the tune of the Snoopy dance. They got a standing ovation. That just sums up Rhonda and Lindsey. Their lives are full of joy, love, and humor.

We like Thursdays

Rex and I, we like Thursdays. On Thursdays, Rex goes out to Green Acres with Tim for a play date with Sparky and sometimes Sue and Seig. (I don’t include Greta because the Dowager Doberman doesn’t “play”; she observes. From a distance. With a haughty attitude.)

Then Sparky gets to come back to The Compound with Rex and Tim. Sparky loves the car almost as much as Rex. Lynne comes here when she gets off work, we eat dinner, and we watch Survivor. Thursday is also the only day that Margot likes Rex, because Sparky becomes Disturber of Margot’s Peace No. 1.

As for Guinness, she’s excited about the menu. She never gets anything, but Guinness is a dog of Great Hope, always. Tonight, I’m trying something different. Baking a hen with orange slices and crushed cranberries. I’ve never had cranberries that weren’t jellied or at least drowning in sweetness. Too bad Tim wasn’t holding the camera when I bit into one earlier. “Tart?” he asked. “Who knew,” I replied. “Anyone from New England,” he said.

Today, I’m finishing a short story. Hopefully it, too, will be a little tart as well as a little sweet. We’ll see.

Happy Friday the 13th

Today, I think I’ll stay home and write.

This morning’s coffee cup is brought to us courtesy of Nan and Ron, my friend Steve R’s parents. I think the cup was probably meant to remind me of their beautiful white cat George. Steve always said that George was much more spoiled than Steve and his six siblings. And I’m sure George, like any cat, would say that was as it should have been.

I also included my breakfast as a reminder to Tim that there is still some Lindsey-baked muffinish goodness over here. Thanks, Lindsey!

Tired and Thursday

There are some days when I can’t imagine living anywhere other than where I do. There was a lot of stuff to take care of Thursday (which made me miss an important phone call, but hopefully, the caller will be in touch on Friday).

One of my errands took me to see John, who works at the office that meets all my mother’s insurance needs. John helps put together Halloween Magic, which raises money to be distributed among HIV/AIDS assistance organizations. John’s wit and enthusiasm never fail to lift my spirits, and it was “Timothy James Beck’s” pleasure to donate two complete sets of signed novels for their charity auction. (And Debby, if you’re reading, John says it’s time for you to come back to Houston! He wants to laugh with you again.)

Back at The Compound, it was tempting to just sit still and appreciate the weather. In the fall, Houston provides some days so stunning that it’s easy to forget the summer. But I wasn’t idle. Tim and I had a good discussion about TJB5. We knew we weren’t going to have our usual Thursday night writers’ meeting because Jim is using that blocked off time to read and edit the manuscript.

Plus we had an important evening planned. Lynne came here after work and we ran a few errands, then Rhonda and Lindsey arrived because Tim, a/k/a The Wedding Bitch, had arranged for them to see and taste a sample of their wedding cake. It was fabulous and will be delicious and beautiful. I can’t believe their wedding is coming up so soon!

Tom had brought lots of pizza home, so we ate, watched Survivor, and devoured wedding cake. Then we just sat and talked and said a lot of things like, “Down, Rex.” “Margot, come in here!” and “No, Guinness, you already ate.” Tim said, “Shoes,” a lot. In fact, that was the first thing he said to me today, because of a video that I can’t link to because YouTube is down. He cracks me up.

Lindsey changed the wallpaper on my cell phone because she’s evil, but later, Rhonda changed it back. Lindsey has finished reading A COVENTRY CHRISTMAS, but since Lynne hasn’t read it yet, and Rhonda still has a chapter or so to go, Lindsey was considerate enough to reassure me that she liked the book without giving away any details. Yay, my first feedback other than from my writing partners or family members!

I loaned Rhonda A LITTLE TWIST OF TEXAS. I really enjoyed reading this book each night before I fell asleep. Since Rhonda has a motorcycle, I know she’ll enjoy it, too. But the book is about so much more than just a road trip. I’ll save more praise and specifics for a review.

You can’t beat a day when you feel like you’ve helped the community, gotten to hang out with great friends, and combined wedding cake with Survivor (right now, I’m all about the Puka tribe).

Oh, and check out these photos, because someone is leaving these in Austin and Houston–mostly all over our neighborhood. I love Montrose.

road to hell paved with unbought stuffed dogs**

Last night I went to bed between nine and ten. I wanted to sleep through the night and get a lot done today. Instead, I woke up at 2 a.m. to some great news in an e-mail from Tim regarding a project we’re working on. I’ll be glad when that’s at a point where I can speak more publicly about it–but that’s not yet.

Of course, I couldn’t go back to sleep, so I got a few things accomplished through the night, then went out early this morning. Sent my galley changes to Kensington for A COVENTRY CHRISTMAS. Got some birthday cards in the mail. Yesterday was James’s birthday, so in his honor, I had breakfast at our favorite Baby Barnaby’s. I love that place, and it would have been better except for the very tall woman sitting at a nearby table who was showing two inches of butt-crack. Why does anyone think the rest of us want to see that while we’re eating breakfast? Stupid low-riding jeans.

On the way home, with all kinds of plans in my head for work on TJB5, I realized I was getting a migraine. I could barely see to drive. Instead of having a wonderfully productive day, I took drugs and went to sleep until four p.m. So much for my good intentions.

**Bonus points for anyone who knows the source of this entry’s title

Confidential to redleatherbound

The secret’s in the skillet. Seasoned. Cast iron.


Real buttermilk. And whether you use a mix or make your own, no sugar. NO SUGAR.


Don’t overmix your batter. Coat your skillet with bacon grease and GET SKILLET HOT (either on a burner or in your oven) before you pour the batter in. A hot skillet is key. Use a drop of water or a pinch of cornmeal and listen for the sizzle. Did I mention there’s no sugar in the mix?


Place in a 400-degree oven and keep an eye on it. Most mixes (cake or cornbread) shouldn’t bake as long as the directions call for. Knowing that will always prevent dryness. By the way: cake mix? Sugar. Cornbread mix? No sugar.


Golden on the top.


Brown on the bottom.


Light. Not dry. And NOT SWEET. Because there’s no sugar.

To those Southern cooks who might scoff at me for using a mix, I say, “People have wept over my cornbread.” And to those who use sugar, I weep over your cornbread. (Sorry, Shawn!)