Sorry I'm Late

I’m sorry to be posting so late.  I’d barely gotten up and dressed this morning when some people arrived to clean our carpets.  I had to move out of my carpeted office to a public area downstairs – and then I went right to work on the notated manuscript of And Then You Dye.  I got the manuscript nearly two weeks ago, but the program that runs it was defective and, because there were numerous questions about the time span it covers, especially at the start, I got in trouble coping with the many little questions and changes it requires.  I finally ran up against the deadline without it being in shape to send back.  I have a one-week extension – and a new version with the program fixed, but all my focus is now on getting it done.  Between that and the temporary move, I forgot all about posting this blog entry.

Just in case I wasn’t stressed enough, I have started a diet.  It’s a modified Atkins, lots of fish, eggs, chicken, beef, and pork – with some salads and the occasional serving of broccoli or green beans.  I blew it badly yesterday, going out to lunch at a Thai restaurant with a friend and not being able to resist a dessert of sticky rice steeped in coconut milk and sugar, topped with thin slices of mango (for the record, it was fabulously delicious).  I was scared to step on the scale this morning – and whoop-de-do, found I had lost another pound!  

Sometimes little things give us pleasure out of proportion to their size or seeming importance.  For me, it’s my Michael Graves tea kettle.  I bought my first one some years back, but our water is hard and after a few years, and despite my best efforts with vinegar and even Lime Away, it got so clogged up, the whistle stopped working and the inside was thickly lined with white deposits.  When I went to buy a new one, the store (Target) didn’t have any, so I bought a cheery cranberry-red kettle.  Then it, too, went the way of kettles used to heat hard water.  To my delight, when I went to buy a replacement, there was the Michael Graves kettle, back in stock.  This kettle, which is stainless steel and oversize, not only has a whistle, but a little spinner sitting upright on the spout cover.  The spinner has no function, but for a reason I can’t explain (second childhood?) I just love to see that spinner twirling when I come to make my morning cup of tea.  Is there some little thing in your house like that?  A toothbrush holder shaped like a goose?  A stained-glass window over your front door?  A flowering shrub that comes back year after year?  Something that gives you a little warm feeling in your heart and makes you smile?

The book to follow And Then You Dye is currently called Watered Silk.  I like that name, but unlike my other titles it isn’t a needlework term.  Watered silk is a kind of fabric, and not one commonly used in needlework.  The story is about the murder of a young woman, whose body is found at the bottom of a theraputic pool attached to an assisted-living community complex.  Do any of you have an idea for an alternate title?  The best idea will be four or fewer words, incorporate a needlework term, and contain an element of threat.  If I use your idea, I will name you in the acknowledgements of the book and send you an autographed copy when the book is published.