Tag: meal

April Photo A Day: On Your Plate

Tim and I are going through all the short stories we were sent for the Best Gay Romance 2014 anthology and that is a big thing on my plate. There are so many good and intriguing stories; it’s going to be tough to pick only a few of them.

At Craft Night this past Friday, Lindsey was breaking down meal plans for a ten-day raw food detox she and Rhonda planned to do. At the same time, I offered her the Bottlecap painting she inspired. She wanted to pay for it, and somehow in that discussion, I decided I wanted to do this detox thing with them. So we bartered, and Lindsey added a third person (ME!) to her grocery runs and meal plans in return for the painting. End result: I’m doing this detox thing. I have to modify it some to keep my blood glucose levels where they should be, and I’m not really detoxing so much as I am giving myself a break from meat and starches. I’ve also thrown in a few things that aren’t part of the plan (like ground flaxseed, upon recommendation of Geri and Tim), and dashes of cinnamon, a spice that’s supposed to be good for pre-diabetics and diabetics.

Even though I’ll still cook meals for Tom and Tim, it’s AWESOME to look in my fridge and freezer or at my kitchen counter and see that someone else has divided up three meals a day for me–and it’ll be this way for TEN DAYS! I always said if I won the lottery, the only rich person thing I’d ever want would be a chauffeur. But I could get used to this meal planning/cooking thing falling to someone else. Thanks, Lindsey; it’s nice to be spoiled.

It’s the end of day one of this adventure. I’ve never felt so freaking full on a day that wasn’t a holiday. I thought I’d show you what lunch looked like today. This was on my plate.

Prompt from FMS Photo A Day.

February Photo A Day: Where You Ate Lunch

I’m grateful for today’s challenge because I was drowning in files and paperwork and bills. Not only was I paying bills, but I’m separating all of 2012’s nonessential paperwork from the stuff I need for my taxes. I’m hoping by the end of this week, I’ll have everything to the accountant. Taxes are a little more complicated for joint filers when one is self-employed. I organize most things quarterly, but there will always be stuff I can do only after year’s end.

Anyway, I’d probably have forgotten all about lunch, except that I knew it was today’s challenge. So I forced myself to take a break for a BLT (Everybody say it with me: Mmmmm, bacon.), fresh pineapple and grapes, a glass of water, and a mug of green tea–all at my own dining room table. Now it’s back to work for me!

Prompt from FMS Photo A Day.

February Photo A Day: Something You Smelled


Coffee! Before I did my errands this morning, I allowed myself the rarest of treats: breakfast at Baby Barnaby’s. Perfect grits, and that orange juice is freshly squeezed in their groovy machine right before your eyes. Other than at the table of family or good friends, the only breakfast I love equally is in New Orleans at the Clover Grill. For me, it’s a much shorter drive to Baby Barnaby’s.

Prompt from FMS Photo A Day.

Legacy Writing 365:357

The first Christmas after I graduated from college, living in my own house, gainfully employed and married to my first husband, also gainfully employed, I thought it was time to be a grown up and have people over to my house for a change. Judging from my pictures and Mother’s from that day, I’m not sure exactly what hostessing meant to me, beyond providing a table (and my extra chairs being lawn chairs).


Looking at the table, I may have opened the cranberry sauce and put it in that dish, which is mine, and the china, crystal, and tumblers are mine, but there’s no way I ever baked that turkey, and those serving dishes are not mine, so I’m thinking whatever vegetables were in them were brought by my mother. That’s Mother, Daddy, me, Terri, Daniel, and First Husband sitting around the table. David’s taking the photo. I see Daddy already put some dressing on his plate before we could get the photos taken. My sister is looking down on us from her graduation picture behind Terri. I recognize some of the books on the shelf: Summer of ’42, Jaws, Valley of the Dolls, The Thorn Birds. That must have been my popular fiction shelf. The literary stuff is elsewhere. I also spy Mr. Santa Claus–that was the year he and Mrs. Claus were given to me by Lynne’s sister.


I think I made the mashed potatoes–which Daniel has already spooned onto his plate. Like grandfather, like grandson. But once again, judging by the serving dishes, Mother made macaroni and cheese, ambrosia, gravy, and the dressing. Yep, I really labored over preparing that meal, didn’t I?


My first Christmas tree as a true grown-up. Up on a table so Hamlet and Brutus wouldn’t pull off any ornaments. I still put those same candy canes on my trees now. Where are the presents? No idea. Probably on top of the piano to keep the dogs out. It does seem as if I might have made a little more effort to cover up that tree stand, doesn’t it? I LOVE that little TV in the corner. Even if I’m not actually thirty-five, at least you can see that we already had TV when I was twenty-two. AND IT WAS COLOR, so hush. Still have that painting that’s on the wall. Still have that basket that’s under the table. It used to have magazines in it. Now it’s the wastebasket in the guest room.


By comparison, in a house the next town over, here’s Lynne’s Christmas tree. With actual presents under the tree, the way it should be.

Legacy Writing 365:327, 328, and 329

Here are pictures from my ‘tween years forward of many Thanksgivings that include lots of family and friends. These pictures don’t really need words to show why every year teaches me again how much I have to be grateful for. This is what Thanksgiving means to me: being together for a few hours with people we care for, reaching out to those who need to be included, sharing what is abundant in our lives–whether that is food, time, or love–with our neighbors.

I hope all of you find good and safe ways to celebrate the Thanksgiving holidays, and that we can all offer our best to one another, in stores and airports, at work and at play, on roads, in front of TVs, at tables, and online.

Taking a break: I’ll be back for sure by time to post Button Sunday!

State of The Compound

We are enjoying a “cold” front–and I realize cold is relative, but 56 degrees is a welcome relief in Houston. Except my flowers looked sad about it this morning. If they survived summer, they need to plant up and endure this, too.

It’s the perfect weather to break out the iron skillets. So, this:


Homemade chili and cornbread. Add our tossed salads, and Tom, Tim, and I will be fixed to gather ’round the TV and watch “The Young and the Restless” on Tivo tonight. It’s just like a heartwarming scene from “Little House on the Prairie,” isn’t it?

You know what else it’s a perfect night for? For Tom to come home from work with THESE for me!

I’d forgotten that Stevie Nicks put out a new CD last year until Greg reminded me of it. And today, he also helped me remember that she had a song on it inspired by Twilight. I love Stevie.

Meanwhile, if you don’t know why the soundtrack from Breaking Dawn Part 2 has me all worked up, just scroll to the bottom of my blog to remind yourself what Tim laughingly told me to upload many months ago. Indeed, it has made me giggle every single day that I’ve seen it there–even days when I didn’t much feel like laughing. For future generations who may stumble onto this blog by accident, because my countdown widget will be gone, here’s a screen cap:

This year, only Lindsey, my Vampartner in Crime, is willing to go with me to the first night of the new and final (?) movie. But LUCKY FOR US, they are starting showings at ten PM Thursday instead of the usual midnight, giving us a better chance of seeing ‘tweens and teens sparkle on.

Then it’ll all be over and I have to be a grownup human again. Or build a new world in a novel of my own…

ETA: Also added to Numbers Photo Series No. 3.

Legacy Writing 365:307

There’s nothing all that noteworthy about this photo Mother took of Debby and me one morning as we sat at the table after breakfast. It’s one of many mornings we spent like that, the three of us. Sometimes a roommate or friend would be there. Sometimes Terri; maybe a grandchild or four. What makes it special is that regardless of the times there might have been mother/daughter friction–of the normal variety–there was never any doubt that we got each other. No matter what, we ended up laughing about something. That still happens inside the family, even with our parents gone.

I know this was taken in my apartment because of the glass end table in the corner and that I’m sitting in my rocking chair. Plus some of the plates on the table are from my old Tupperware picnic set. I think that white blob behind Debby is her dog Spanky. I know it’s Mother taking the picture not just because the photo is with her other Kodak shots, but because her omnipresent cigarette case is on the table.

Still, there are some mysteries. The chair Debby’s sitting in looks like one belonging to Mother’s dining room furniture, but I don’t remember ever having those chairs (I have two now that I took after she died). I also don’t know who this table belonged to. It didn’t come with Tom and me to Texas, because we had to borrow one from Lynne and Craig for a couple of years until I acquired the one I have now (it once belonged to Steve R; his parents urged me to take it after he died). I must have borrowed this table from someone, but I’m drawing a blank.

Also, I wonder why my walls were so bare? Now those walls would be covered with art.

Finally, I can’t figure out why there’s a glass of milk next to my plate and a glass of Coke next to Debby. That’s the reverse of what we’d have drunk at breakfast (I still don’t drink milk, but I no longer drink Coke. I drink water and coffee–and sometimes hot tea–healthier, right?). Maybe we were already up and about to clear the table when Mother made us sit back down so she could take the picture. I guess she, too, liked remembering that a not-that-noteworthy morning could still be something special.

Button Sunday

Some way overdue thank-yous here. First, to my buddy Rob E in St. Louis, who sent me a scarf with a bold print for possible doll fashion along with bottle caps for my paintings. The scarf is already packed away with my fabric, but it sat on the desk next to me for a couple of days before I really scrutinized it, and then I started laughing because I was reminded of Diane Wiest’s character in the movie The Birdcage as she puzzled over a provocative design on some dinnerware. The scarf depicted people doing all kinds of naughty things, so the fabric must surely be used for some future fashion event. Thanks, Rob.

Another friend, writer Jeffrey Ricker, has temporarily relocated to Canada to pursue his MFA. But he sent me a couple of St. Louis mementos to add to my collection:


Pressed pennies from the Missouri Botanical Gardens. Thank you very much, Jeff! And the dog card makes me happy, too.

It’s funny how old and dear friends come back into our lives when we need them most, and such is the case with a good friend from my high school and college years, Jim S. I won’t embarrass him by describing how much our ongoing conversations mean to me. Recently, he sent the most wonderful package of goodies to Tom and me: these clever steeping tea mugs, along with some tea blends, and honey from BACK HOME to sweeten our tea.

The honey is from a beekeeper in a rural area where I lived many years ago, though I don’t think Jim knew that. Check out the tea products and blends from The Tea Spot. If there’s not a retail supplier near you, you can also order from them online. Saturday morning provided the perfect chilly weather for Tom and me to enjoy the Bolder Breakfast blend of Black Tea, Pu’erh, and Chocolate. It was divine and went well with our brunch of eggs, grits, bacon, biscuits (with more honey!), and grapes.

By the way, from The Tea Spot: Our full leaf teas include organic and Fair-Trade Certified™ estate teas and signature blends. Committed to giving as we grow, 10% of each sale is donated in-kind to cancer wellness and community programs. A gift with heart from one of the best hearts I know; thank you, Jim!

Our friend, writer and blogger Josh Helmin, was in Houston last week and came by The Compound to have dinner with us. He and Tim graciously agreed to pose for a Reading Is Hot photo holding two new novels by other author friends of ours.


Josh is holding Greg Herren’s Timothy. Greg sent me a copy before anyone else could buy it, and I was honored to read that he dedicated the novel to me because of our shared love–as teenagers and beyond–of romantic suspense writers like Victoria Holt, Phyllis Whitney, the incomparable Mary Stewart, and Daphne du Maurier. Tim’s holding Famous Author Rob Byrnes’s third in his hilarious caper series featuring Grant Lambert and Chase LaMarca and their entire gang of misfits, Strange Bedfellows.

To bring this full circle, I received a photo from Rob E who reminded me that reading is also sensible WHEN it’s hot, as this was what he was enjoying in the middle of the Midwest’s recent drought.

Y’all know how I love writers, and I want to share Indiegogo projects from a couple of my writer friends.

Author, webmaster, and columnist Linda Gentile founded Markeroni in 2003. Markeroni is the oldest website that helps people find and record historical markers and landmarks. Markeroni is a history resource with more than 150,000 landmarks in their database and 31,000 with a Catalog entry. Markeroni is in need of an upgrade, so Linda’s raising funds at this Indiegogo site. If a few people contribute even a modest amount, this resource can be updated and made more accessible to the public. If you can’t contribute, you might become a Markeroni member, or share the link on your Facebook and Twitter sites. Linda and all the Markeroni volunteers are a fun and passionate group, so thanks for any support you can give them between now and October 31.

Another Indiegogo project with funding that will close on October 31 is Michael Thomas Ford’s prospective novel Lily. Here’s how Lily begins:

On the morning of her thirteenth birthday, Lily kissed her father and knew that he would be dead by nightfall. The image of his death dropped into her mind suddenly and without warning. As her lips touched his she saw behind the thin skin of her closed eyes his face, pale and wet, rising up from the waves surrounded by caressing fingers of sea grass, and she screamed.

Mike is an award-winning novelist who’s written more than fifty books for both young readers and adults, in genres ranging from humor to horror, literary fiction to nonfiction. He’s one of my favorite writers, so I really want to see Lily happen. It’s a bold new endeavor that won’t happen without funding; you can read more about what you’ll receive at the different levels of giving at the Indiegogo site. Again, if you can’t give, please share the link on your social networking sites.

Thanks on behalf of Linda and Mike.