Right now I am …
… still buzzing after meeting all of the Anansi staff at their sales rep party in Toronto last night. I was so nervous. So nervous! I put on mascara while Fooey writhed on the floor and screamed in her bossiest voice, “You will not be going to this meeting tonight! They can do the meeting tomorrow! You are not going!” It brought me closer to the reality that, for my little kids at least, this Mommy’s publishing a book thing is a major inconvenience; they really can’t understand what it means to me. Mommy’s publishing a book and she’s not tucking me in tonight! Not: Mommy’s publishing a book, yay for Mommy! I set supper on the table, set the table, and as soon as Kevin walked through the door, peeled two desperately clingy children off my legs and made a run for it.
Then I had a pleasant (not) leisurely (not) drive down the 401. The traffic! Plus, the closer I got to my destination, the more nervous I got. I got so nervous I was having to remind myself to breathe. It’s been awhile since I’ve schmoozed. Thankfully, as soon as I walked through the door, I was in good hands. My former boss from, oh, a decade or more ago, is married to Anansi’s publisher. I think he knew I was nervous. I kind of had the same expression on my face that I had at the beginning of the marathon (but with better hair and a nicer outfit). He got me a glass of wine and took me outside to meet his dogs, and I was soon feeling much better. Just like reaching the 10km mark. Before I knew it, I was cruising.
And I got to meet everybody! I mean, all of these people who have been working with me from afar (not so very afar, but far enough that we’ve never met in person). I got to meet them! I met my editor! It was like meeting an old friend, except I had imagined her looking just a little bit different. I’d imagined everyone differently, come to think of it. Everyone looks different over email and the telephone. It was like meeting the people behind your favourite radio voices. Without even knowing it, you construct these imaginary faces.
Anyway, by 34km or so, I was one happy writer. I’d been fed a lovely dinner. My sister’s red shoes looked great (thanks again, Edna!). Best of all, I wasn’t schmoozing, I was just getting to know people. Hey, I like people! And come to think of it, I like talking too! Not so nerve-wracking after all.
At the end of the evening, I mentioned that I was kicking around for a new challenge this coming year–thinking of a running challenge or something like the 365-day photo challenge–and Sarah, Anansi’s publisher, said (and I paraphrase): “How about publishing your book!? Forget the other challenges. This will be plenty. This year, you’ll launch a book!”
I like that. I might have to go with that.
(Oh, and I got up early for spin class this morning and I was still buzzing … still am … floating on an evening out of the every day.)
(And, no, that photo does not relate. It’s just a purty picture of some berries in the snow in front of our house.)
The week in suppers: enter the root vegetable
**Monday’s menu: Split pea soup in the crockpot. Quick beer bread. Baked squash.
**Because: We have a whole lot of yellow split peas. We also had no bread. Quick breads can save a meal.
**Recipe for Beer Bread: Set oven to 400 degrees. Grease a loaf pan. Whisk together 1 cup whole wheat flour, 1 cup white flour, 1/2 cup large flake oats, 2 tbsp sugar, 2 tsp baking powder, 1/2 tsp baking soda, and 1/2 tsp salt. Add in one freshly opened bottle of beer (any kind!). Fold together until just mixed. Scrape into pan. Bake for 35-40 minutes, or until a toothpick comes out clean. Important: Let cool completely in pan before unmolding and serving. (Why I know this: Hungry children + hurrying to get food on the table = somewhat crumbling very hot beer bread. Still good, however. Made good toast the next morning too).
**Tuesday’s menu: Pasta with pesto. Fiery fried cabbage. Broiled tofu.
**Because: Something for everyone. Except there was still a lot of complaining. Why? Oh why?
**Wednesday’s menu: Sweet potato coconut soup in the crockpot (pictured above). Bread from City Cafe. Cheese.
**Because: So good! Visit here for the recipe. Best use of a yam, ever.
**Random kitchen accomplishment: Made yogurt. Kevin’s been eating a lot of it atop the really good granola, as a bedtime snack. He likes that everything in that bowl is made by me. I like that too.
**Thursday’s menu: Black beans. Baked rice. Tortillas. Cut up winter veggies: carrots, rutabaga, daikon radishes.
**Because: Today was a tough day. But this meal is easy. Popular, quick (just takes advance planning), satisfying. Good conversation around the dinner table.
**Friday’s menu: Pizza night at church.
**Confession: We haven’t gone to church all fall, but when info on pizza night arrived in my inbox, packaged with the promise of gingerbread house decoration, we were in.
**Extra confession: I didn’t even go. Pizza night overlapped with AppleApple’s goalie camp, so I dropped everyone else off, drove AppleApple to the sports complex on the other side of town, and went for a run (our Friday night ritual), while Kevin managed the kids, the pizza, and the gingerbread decoration. Bless him.
Photos for the Christmas letter: the outtakes
Let’s begin by gathering together the joyful participants in this afternoon’s all-family project. Joyful, I said. Joyful participants.
Kevin (silently): What the hell, son? What the hell?
It’s always thrilling to discover new talents in one’s offspring.
Apparently, we have a natural born ham. Please, sir, may I have some more?
CJ acts out another scenario unseen by the rest of us.
Giant robot coming! Must defeat it with laser eyeballs!
I include this just because it’s so supremely awkward. CJ is about to do a runner. I’m, you know, smiling! Fooey’s vogueing. Enough with the jazz hands. And we’re done.
It would be nice to report that the photograph chosen to grace our Christmas letter (yes, we’re going to do a Christmas letter this year!) is far superior than these. It would be nice.
What’s blue and red and makes you wonder: who’s that girl?
This is what my book looks like!!!!!! (Insert full paragraph of exclamation points.)
You can even pre-order it!!!
But this is what it looks like!
(And, no, I don’t know who the girl is, though she does look weirdly like my own AppleApple. The publisher designed the cover, not me.)
Dreamy, dreamy.
This was not the post I began writing this morning. That post started like this:
“Long week. General gloom. Set alarm, rose early. Glad for that.
Snow falling. Cough cough cough from my constant companion.”
And went on in the same vein. Which is true enough. But I’m glad the cover popped into my inbox and interrupted my cranky, restless mind with a splash of colour. And, oh, that dreaming girl. I’d like to just go be her for a little while.
On the seventh day of Christmas …
… the kids made decorations for the front window. We didn’t have time to get to it until after 8 o’clock last night, but with everyone working together helpfully, I didn’t want to crush the creativity for bedtime purposes. CJ made a snowman that we hung on the wall rather than the window–he found sticky-tack on the back of a fish he’d made at nursery school and hung it himself. Fooey made a snowflake and a Santa. AppleApple made red and green holly to frame the corners, and Albus made blue snowflakes and a line of people holding hands.
On the eighth day of Christmas (ie. today), I’ve promised to make caramel popcorn balls. Maybe we’ll use the recipe in our Little House on the Prairie Christmas recipes book. It would be appropriate because AppleApple is attending a Victorian classroom today–a field trip for her enrichment program. Here she is all dressed up and braided.
Yesterday was the kind of day that defines relentless. I received the final questions on the proofs for Juliet while sitting in an xray office with Fooey and CJ, having just dropped AppleApple at piano lessons, and while waiting for Albus to call my cell so I would know he was safely home. I was thinking today how strange it is that you can’t always have your kids with you. Hm. That doesn’t sound very profound. I was thinking of how strange it still feels to let them go and be independent, to know that they are capable of being out there in the world, without me. Same for my book–can it fend for itself? Is it ready?
(Oh, and the results of the xray came back positive for pneumonia. Which would explain my poor girl’s endless nighttime coughing.)