Austin, TEXAS, January 10, 2006 — Do you ever have that kind of day? Nothing horrible goes wrong. Your life just continues with niggling complications.

I still haven't done anything about the NIC problem on this computer. Because it works until you have to boot. Even then it sometimes works. The person I really trust to help me with computer problems is a student and he hasn't returned our call or my e-mail. I know one day I'll have to find another guru, but so soon?

This morning I had tennis on my schedule. I had put Tuesdays on my schedule through this month to sub for one of my "ladies

of a certain age" until she recovered from arthroscopic knee surgery. I've heard that her knee will need replacement from others. Anyway, I haven't heard from the other participants which makes me think they were maybe not playing. Still, I may have said I'd be there and they are assuming so. Now, of course, I could call someone. But I need to go to the club anyway. So I just go in my tennis clothes. I don't find a game so I go to the gym and ride the bike to nowhere for an hour while reading magazines the club has. During this I find a word I don't know. In a shelter magazine. That is crushing. And I don't remember the word long enough to get home and look it up. If it had been the New Yorker I also leaved through, fair enough. But a House Beautiful or something like that?

So that was why I was wearing my good, new tennis shoes with the intricate tread for planting your toe when I stepped in the dog poop. Chalow went on the grass when I took her out, but earlier, in the dark, she must have hidden one on the cedar chip path. When I noticed it, I had to retrace my steps and then I had to spend ten minutes with a disposible fork and running water to de-poop my shoe. Not my workout shoes with a few simple wide treads, but my tennis shoes with intricate narrow spaces.

All cleaned up, though, I decided it wasn't cosmic. Although I did complain to FFP when he got in.

I smell a rat. No literally. I think a rat took our poison bait in the attic or garage and died in the wall between my kitchen and THE ROOM. Eventually he will be a harmless dry skeleton to amuse the people who one day tear down this edifice. But right now you can get a whiff of him occasionally in the kitchen. At least we hope it is a rat. And not one of the missing cats from the 'neighbors who are falling apart.' They are apparently having marital troubles, have lost two cats, have had deaths and severe illness in their extended family and their dog keeps digging out and then standing in the street all suicidal and refusing to come to us. He (the dog) almost made me late for the tennis date I didn't have. It is possible to have a worse time of it than I am. And they are probably stepping in the occasional dog poop and, now that the cats are gone, they may get some of the Shoal Creek rats poking around. I can't imagine computers treat them any better than they do me.

Yeah it was one those days. Things are really going well for me. But you are haunted by a few things. A friend's mother died and I'm getting some people together to go to the service. When my friends have to deal with their aging parents, it reminds me of the pain of losing my mother and, while I feel lucky that Dad is doing well, it reminds me that he is 89.

I also tried some more cooking today. Which makes me despair of the dinner party for twelve I've promised to do. I was thinking of making pescado Veracruzano. But you really need a red snapper filet. And Central Market had rejected the red snapper catch. (Yes, I shopped at Central Market which will always make the rank amateur cook feel inadequate.) The fish monger tried to convince me that grouper cut from the end of the fillet would be thin enough to substitue. But it wasn't. It merely had a tough membrane which lessened the enjoyment of the fish. My Veracruzano sauce, though, was great. I forgot the bay leaves (which is better than forgetting to take them out I guess) but it was great. Because this sauce (which is my Provencal with a bit of jalapeno and no calamata olives) is easy. I also made some more of the Ranchero which requires roasting the serranos and tomatoes but this time I stopped shy of heating it in vegie oil to see if the prep would hold here. That would be important for a dinner party and making things come together.

Yeah, so this wasn't a total bust. I really may become a better cook in a mere month. But will I be able to satisfy my guests?

So, yeah, nothing is really wrong in my life. There are funerals. And did I mention it is that time of year when you start to sweat the taxes? Oh, and I was looking on the WEB for other recipes for Calabacitas Rellanas and I misspelled Calabacitas and one of my pages was the first to come up below the condescending Did You Mean: line with the correct spelling. [Ed. Note: You could write a whole page on the people who land on your pages because they make the same typo that you do.]

Nothing really wrong. Just that kind of day.