When the Going Gets Tough...

... this tough person isn't sure what to do these days.  I feel like I'm sitting here in the path of an avalanche or flood or fire waiting for it to swoop down on me.  I'm healthy, everyone around me is healthy, and still I'm nervous.  I don't like it.


Today I made homemade chocolate pudding (not the box kind) to take to DS & DIL1's St. Patrick's Day supper tonight.  They corned a beef roast, sauteed cabbage with caramelized onions, steamed carrots with horseradish sauce, and boiled red potatoes.  Oh, and DS and LC made soda bread.  All of it was out of this world and the meal was perfectly topped off with a little bowl of pudding with whipped cream and an Andes mint.  I suspect it'll be a long time before we all sit down to a meal together again so tonight was especially good.  I even had a tiny beer.  I think I'm developing a taste for the stuff.



I spent most of the day, after making the pudding, knitting on the Mosaik mitt.  I got the top edge rows done and picked up stitches for the cuff.  I'll probably get that done tomorrow--if I don't spend too much time staring blankly at the TV, something I've noticed I'm doing these days.




16 March--Barbara Malcolm, Three Cheers for Murder. 

            Leaving the house of grief after a tiring hour and a half, Cecilia gratefully turned her minivan toward home.  Driving through downtown she passed the darkened stores on her block.  She noticed that Lt. Graybow’s car was parked in the shadowy space alongside Kitty’s Korner.  Tightening her grip on the steering wheel she resolved to call Alan as soon as she got home and tell him all about the budding relationship between his partner and someone she considered the prime suspect in three horrible murders.

Letting herself into her welcoming home Cecilia changed into her favorite zebra pajamas and fixed herself a cup of herbal tea.  She wasn’t crazy about the stuff, but real tea kept her up nights and she considered that herbal tea fits her “all-natural” image at the store.

Sitting at the kitchen table she checked the time to make sure it’s not too late and punched in Archibald’s number.  As she listened to the rings, she tried to collect her thoughts and figure out how she’d convince him that Marlene killed the three women.

“Hello?” a tired voice answered.

“Alan?  It’s Cecilia.  I hope I didn’t wake you.”

“No.  I was staring at the television hoping inspiration would strike.  How are you tonight?”

“Oh, all right, I guess.  I just got home from Teddy’s parents’ house.  Those poor people.  I didn’t know what to say to them.  How do you comfort people whose only child was brutally murdered?” she asked angrily.

“I don’t know.  I’ve been a cop for more years than I care to count and there just isn’t a good way to do it.  How were things at the store today?”

“Good.  A woman from the Chamber of Commerce came and interviewed me.  You remember I told you that I’d convinced them to issue a pamphlet outlining the small businesses in my area to give to people moving into town.  I hope that’ll help keep the small locally owned places open.  Anyway, Sheila, that’s her name, Sheila, had interviewed Marlene before she came into The Alchemists.  She was quite upset about the answers Marlene gave to some of her questions.  She went on and on rather vehemently about how poorly she’d been treated by “the Y’s” as she calls them.  Sheila said she even talked about someone killing them and doing it much the way the crimes were actually committed.  I reassured her that Marlene had had a hard adolescence and because she doesn’t have many friends she tends to lash out at times.  But, Alan, I think you ought to take another look at Marlene as a suspect.”

Archibald sighed.  “Cecilia, I can’t arrest someone just because she didn’t like the murder victim.”

“It’s not just that,” she said more forcefully than she intended.  “Marlene’s changed since the first murder.  I barely noticed at first, but I was thinking about her this afternoon after the interview and she’s really changed.  She’s gotten her hair cut in a flattering style, bought a lot of new clothes, and she’s wearing makeup!  It’s almost like with each murder she’s come more and more out of her shell.”  Cecilia stops talking abruptly.  The last statement was a surprise even to her.  Why didn’t I make that connection before? she wonders.  Of course, as each enemy was killed, she got stronger and stronger and put the pain of her adolescence farther and farther behind her.

“That’s a new one!  Guilt by makeup!  Boy the DA’ll get a laugh out of that.  Great detective work, little lady,” he laughed.

“Don’t you patronize me, you oaf!  Men don’t notice changes like that, but women do.  Makeup defense.  Honestly!  And another thing, did you know that Lt. Graybow has been over there the last few nights?” she asked.

I hope you're all safe and healthy and stay that way.
--Barbara