Abandoned

Years ago this housed cows. In the summer it is lost to view completely as corn grows around it. Now, however, it sits here forgotten for all that it is so exposed.

Posted by AravisArwen at 1:00 AM | Comments (8)

Global Warming... Fiction?

I don't think so. I woke up on the 29^th of December to hear someone mowing their lawn!

The Butterfly House

I've recently finished reading The Butterfly House by Marcia Preston. It's the story of the friendship between Bobbie, her best friend Cincy, and Cincy's mother Lenora. Bobbie, the daughter of an alcoholic mother, finds sanctuary in the home of her friend. Lenora is a lepidopterist with a lab in her home and Bobbie comes to share her love of the butterflies in a way that Lenora's daughter does not. As the girls grow older jealousy forms: Cincy of the relationship between Bobbie and Lenora, and Ruth- Bobbie's mother- is jealous as well. It all comes to a head one night and ends in tragedy. Years later Bobbie- now known as Roberta- is still haunted by the events of that night. She tries to hide herself away from it until a stranger shows up at her door digging things up and demanding her help. Roberta must choose between confronting her fears of the past, or spending the rest of her life running from it.

Well-written, this story unfolds a little at a time, alternating between the Roberta of the present and the Bobbie of the past, transitioning smoothly and without confusion. The author clearly feels compassion for all of her characters. There are no villains, merely those who are deeply flawed, each in their own way. Preston tells her story simply, without devolving into melodrama.

The only element in this story of which I felt critical was the use of dramatic statements to foreshadow impending events. There's nothing wrong with this device, really, I just don't care for it. However Preston doesn't use it too often and I was able to overlook it because the merits of the book far outweighed this one negative.

If the plot sounds interesting to you, by all means check it out.

I've Got A Secret

And now I can tell you what I have been working on:

I have applied for the Spring semester of college.

I didn't want to say anything until it was certain. I've tried more than once to return to school, but it never seemed to pan out. Circumstances or fear, or a combination of both, have frozen me every time I made the attempt. It has less to do with fear of academic failure- I was a Dean's List student before- than it has to do with fear of change and the unknown. These things have a history of tripping me up, or rather I have a history of allowing these things to throw me. While I have felt a real desire to return to college and earn a degree, at the same time my body tenses thinking about it. It means exploring outside of my comfort zone. I'm growing tired of my comfort zone, however, and I want more out of life. I'm going to get it.

I secretly downloaded the college application from their website and filled it out. I received a copy of my high school transcript and one of my college transcripts; the other is being mailed directly to the school I'm applying to. I was able to do all of this without telling anyone. The snag came when I tried to find my immunization records. My current doctor doesn't have a copy and my pediatrician's practice closed in the '80's. The doctor himself passed away long ago. No hope there. I finally had to break down and reveal to my mother what I was doing because I needed her help locating my records. She was so excited! Unfortunately, she wasn't able to find her copy. I thought I was going to have to be re-immunized, an event I dreaded. In a last ditch effort to defend myself from needles, I called my high school to see if by any chance they still had my records there. They did! Having met the last requirement for the application process, I mailed it all out today.

Once I told my mother I of course let Randy in on my plans immediately; he has always encouraged me to take this step. He's really happy for me. I didn't want to tell anyone what I was up to because I've talked about it so often and it never materialized. For some it has become a running gag and they don't believe me anymore when I say I'm going. Their prodding and jokes inspired me to prove them wrong though, and I send them my thanks.

I'm majoring in Human Services/Behavioral Sciences. I don't know what my concentration will be yet. I'll wait until I've studied for awhile to find the perfect fit. It isn't as if I need to know right now anyway. I'll take as many classes as I can at the community college because it's cheaper and it's closer. When I transfer I'll have at least an hour's commute one-way; the local community college makes more sense until I absolutely have to start making the longer trip. I've got about 2.5 years to go before I'll earn my Bachelor's. My goal is a Master's though. I've got my work cut out for me, but I'm confident I can do this.

Now I just hope that my application goes through before the deadline, and that I'm accepted. I'll keep you posted.

A Wrong And A Right

Christmas Eve in Connecticut should have been a magical winter wonderland. Children should have been outside throwing snowballs, sledding and skating until the chill became too much and they had to warm up inside with hot chocolate and perhaps some soup. That is a New England Christmas.

The weather this season, however, seems to be playing a sort of Backwards game. Instead of cold, it's warm. Instead of snow, there's rain. And so on. This has been disheartening, especially when we had to give in to the inevitable fact that we weren't going to have a white Christmas this year. I was sad, but I could live with it. But you know what really deeply offended me on the day of Christmas Eve?

I looked out my window and saw a cyclist ride by in his little bicycle shorts and short-sleeved shirt! Now that's just wrong. Even if it is warm enough to do so, nobody should be out riding their bicycle on Christmas out of respect for the rest of us. If it's so important for him to ride, he can move to Florida and let us winter-people sulk!

Moving on to better things...

Today is going to be a special day. My friend John will be celebrating 4 years of sobriety at our home group meeting!

I think very highly of John. We worked and drank together many years ago, and now we're both sober together. That's a pretty cool feeling, and I'm so happy for him!

John once literally saved my life back in the old days. A psychotic ex threatened to kill me and, for reasons I won't go into here, I had every reason to believe him. He was friendly with several local officers so I didn't think going to the police was a good idea. When John learned what was going on, he hid me in his house until the ex became distracted by something else and I could return home. The ex showed up again a couple of years later, but that's a different story. The point is that when I was in danger and didn't know where to go for help, John stepped in and gave me someplace safe to hide. I'll always be grateful for that!

Thank-you, John, for being the person you are. Our lives have changed for the better in so many ways and you're not only a good friend but also a "power of example" to others. Congratulations on your anniversary, and may you have many more, a day at a time!

Christmas Recap 2006

It was a day full of noise, chaos, food and lethargy. It was Christmas in our family.

We were preparing to leave for my in-laws' house when the phone rang. One of Randy's regular customers had begun to prepare Christmas dinner only to realize that she had not picked up the tenderloin she was serving as the main dish! She found Randy's number and begged him to help her, so he drove to the store to get what she needed. While there another regular customer pulled up, needing orange juice and cranberry sauce. Randy wrote it up and brought this out as well. Then he joined us at his parents' house. He's such a nice guy!

- There was eating, gift exchanges and conversation.
- We went to my mother's home. There was eating, gift exchanges and conversation.
- Interlude in which almost everyone napped.
- Off to uncle's Christmas party with various friends and family members. Ate food, exchanged gifts and laughed.

We had a great day and had been given gifts that had obviously been chosen or made with care. I love homemade gifts! We came home and vegged on the couch. I was completely stuffed, so I did the only thing I could: I ate some leftovers. Yeah, I know that doesn't make sense but it's what I did. Randy was suitably amazed at my feeding frenzy, but he didn't argue with it. It finally dawned on me that the more I ate, the slower I became. Much easier to catch that way! *G*

We sat together in front of the fire. The pets received treats from their stockings and Randy and I traded presents. We don't usually spend a lot of money on each other, preferring to buy silly little things just to make the other one smile. This year, though, Randy surprised me. He knew that I wanted to buy tickets for two upcoming shows this Spring (Bill Cosby and Gordon Lightfoot will each be appearing locally); I want to take my mother for her birthday.

Randy bought the tickets for my mom and I! He's such a sweet and thoughtful man. I'm so lucky!

For those who don't celebrate Christmas, or those who do but find it stressful: Cheers! It's finally over. And no matter what you believe or how you celebrate, I hope you had a lovely weekend!

With Love

To all of you- my friends- who have opened my mind and taught me to look at the world through different eyes, laughed with me in the good times and encouraged me during the bad-

I wish you joy and peace, now and always.

What Sort?

Tonight's meeting was really powerful, and I took a lot out of it. There was one thing in particular that resonated with me and I thought I would share it with you; you don't need to be in any of the programs to understand this...

All we have is this day, this hour. Perhaps this minute. The past is gone and the future hasn't happened yet. This person asked the question: If this is all that we have, how do I want to live it? What sort of person do I want to be?

How simple, and yet how profound!

So what person do I want to be right here, in this moment, this day?

I want to be kind. I know the pain one feels when the butt of others' jokes. I know what it is to make mistakes. I know what it is to be wrong. I frequently am. Knowing these things, how can I be cruel or unkind when others do the same? Yet I can be just as mean as the next person given the right conditions.

I want to be kind.

I also want to be honest.

I don't want to lie to myself anymore, to lose myself in trying to please others at my own expense. I don't want to be dishonest with others. How can I expect them to know me or respect me if I don't pay them the same respect by being honest with them about who I am, what I think and how I feel? It would be nice to feel safe while being honest, to not feel as though I might be belittled for who I am. The people-pleaser in me wants to be safe, to hide behind the mask of the chameleon. Of what am I afraid? If someone doesn't like me, will the world come to an end? I doubt it. Still, I often hold back.

I want to be honest.

It is not easy to be both kind and honest. One sometimes seems to preclude the other. There is a saying: Say what you mean, just don't say it mean. So often I lose my temper and fall short of this goal.

That wasn't the question however. It was "...what sort of person do I want to be?"

The answer is: kind and honest.

I'll keep working on it.

Shopping Done For Another Year

Our Christmas shopping is done. Randy and I met up with our friend Leo tonight to get the last of the gifts. Leo treated us to dinner at Applebee's- a wonderful gift that my taste buds really appreciated- and we bought him a game that he wanted. Then we tackled the other gifts on our lists which, thankfully, wasn't extensive.

I felt badly for Leo who came down with a cold last night and was feeling pretty miserable. The situation wasn't helped by the frigid raining pounding on our heads whenever we had to go outside! Horrible. Leo was happy to go home afterwards; his bed was calling him. Randy, too, went to bed shortly after we got home. The poor guy has to work tomorrow and the store is bound to be busy all day because of the holiday weekend. I don't envy him. It's a good thing he's a people-person!

As for me, I've started a fire in the fireplace and will cuddle up in front of it when the cabin heats up.

If you have to travel this weekend, be safe. And if you're where you need to be, be happy. Er, you can be happy if you're traveling too. I hear it's possible from time to time.

Taking myself off to the comforts of fire, Christmas tree and peace.

One-Liner

My current All-Time favorite line from a commercial?

Don't question Mr. Nibbles!

A Timely Question

I'm feeling better, thanks, but still have a sore throat and am feeling really tired. I think I'll turn it over to you again, so here's this to get on with-

Time magazine has named everybody as their "Person of the Year." Those who care find this a controversial decision; they feel that someone in particular should be named, for better or for worse.

A great many people, however, don't care.

That's not what I'm asking. Hang in there with me for another minute...

Pondering the cover of Time magazine my mind wandered vaguely and I came up with the following question for you:

If you owned your own magazine, what would it be about and who- or what- would be on the cover?

There. That was the question.

Humorous, So Far

On the drive home from Christmas shopping earlier I followed a car with the following on a bumper sticker:

bimbopolitics.com
for the seriously confused

I checked it out, and it turns out to be pretty funny. The blog entry I read was about posing nude outdoors while pregnant and 2 days from her due date. Lots of self-deprecating humor.

That's it from me. I'm sick. Again. Cold symptoms which now suddenly involve my stomach. Blech.

On Rudolph

I was watching Rudolph with my mother and sister tonight, something we haven't done since Ashley was very little. It was a completely different experience.

Leaving aside the sexist comments- typical of the time in which it was made- and the fact that Santa really was a bit of an ass, certain things struck us. For example:

Just where did Fireball get off making fun of Rudolph for being a freak? Hello? Did you see any other reindeer with a thatch of blond hair on their head? Didn't think so.

Rudolph's girlfriend is named Clarice. Fava beans and chianti anyone?

You know why Herme is named Herme? He's a hermaphrodite. Think about it: all of the male elves are bald. All of the female elves have blonde hair. Herme has blond hair. NOT that there's anything wrong with that; there isn't. 'Nuff said.

Final thought: I don't care how bad it gets, I'm never going to Herme for dental work. Did you see those pliers? And the only form of anesthetic I saw used was a boulder to the brain.

I think I'll pass.

Holiday Question

This is the time of year when people are always asking "What would you like for Christmas?"

What I want to know is this: What would you give for Christmas or Hannukah if you could give anything you wanted to give?

An Ornamental Life

There's a quiet joy that comes with sitting here at night surrounded by evergreens, firelight and the twinkling of reflections on ornaments imbued with special meanings and stories of their own. There are the glass bells with carousel horses inside them, given to me by my mother for my first Christmas on my own. There are the firemen, dalmations and firetruck ornaments given to Randy by his family over the years. It is a tradition in his family to give each child an ornament at Christmas. His mother has given me hand-painted decorations with wolves on them, and one of my favorite ornaments: a brass rabbit on a frosted white glass ball. On another branch hangs a Hummelesque fairy in white sledding on a leaf which I love equally as well. This always reminds me of my maternal grandparents, though they didn't give it to me. To be honest, I can't recall where it came from. It just turned up one year, which makes it magical in and of itself.

Then there are the garlands of white snowflakes on the tree, or the cranberry garlands which now hang on the beam above my head as I write. These I chose for myself as well as paper stars in blue, red, gold, or white and which I purchased at a church fair to benefit some charity. There's a beautiful colored-glass ornament of a bird in flight from a certain aunt who reads my ramblings here. At the top of the tree is the pink and gold angel, especially precious because it was a gift from Randy to me on our first Christmas thirteen years ago. It was a promise made and kept of a future filled with holidays spent together.

Sitting here now I'm aware that each year has been such a gift, and that my life is richer for those who have peopled it and for the memories which they helped to create.

Christmas In The Cabin

I finally decorated tonight while listening to Christmas With The Chipmunks and Merry Snoopy's Christmas, a tradition since childhood. In fact, these were the same two albums I've had for as long as I can remember, given to me in the early '70's. They still play perfectly. I have to admit that I miss the ambient crackling sound which came with playing vinyl. Purity is nice, but the crackle is cozy; it's homey.

Here, as promised, are a couple of photos. I couldn't hang the pets' stockings on the mantle because the trap door to refill the wood stove is on top, and they would get in the way. The stove is also extremely hot and I worried about a fire hazard. Instead I hung our stockings and placed Sam, Wheezy and Patches' stockings under the tree. I need a new tree skirt, but these will do for now...

Friends Lost And Found

For the better part of the past 24 hours I have been playing private investigator. Both my husband and my mother are missing friends from their past and would really like to find them. I've tried on and off for a couple of years now with no luck. Last night it became an obsession, and yielded some results.

I was able to locate the address and phone number of one of Randy's childhood friends for him. They lost touch about ten years ago when the friend moved to Colorado, and that has always bothered Randy. Friend found. Case closed.

I haven't been so fortunate with my mother's friend, however. Through classmates.com I've discovered that she got married, and I have even learned her married name. But there the trail goes cold. I don't know if she's still married, or if she was married, divorced and married again. I have just spent this entire day using an online source- the same one I used to locate Randy's friend- to literally sift through thousands of listings of women with the same name, state by state, all fifty of them. I looked under her maiden name, her married name and combinations thereof.

I couldn't find her, and I'm seriously bummed.

So Diane (Campbell) Carr, attorney (are you still?) originally from the NW corner of CT, if you are out there, please contact me, Connie (not an attorney, but still in the NW corner of CT). It would mean a lot to Gert!

See how desperate I have become? Let's hope she's vain enough to google her name. It's all I've got left.

Going through Diane after Diane after endless Diane, I did learn some interesting things. Such as the fact that few people seem to move away from Tennessee, or if they do, they don't come back. Then there were the names whose combinations I found mildly amusing: Diane Campbell Campbell, or Diane Carr Carr. The final name makes me laugh. It reminds me of the old song "Take me for a ride in your car car..."

I do wish I could have found Diane for my mother as a sort of Christmas present, but I guess I just have to give up on it again for the time being. People have a way of turning up on the internet eventually.

It's handy, if a little creepy.

You've Got To Be Carefully Taught

This is the time of year when Christians celebrate the birth of their Savior, a man who preached forgiveness, love and peace. It is a time to celebrate him and all he stood for.

How then do I tell you that the hottest-selling video game^* Christians are buying for their children this season is one in which evangelical heroes must either convert their foes, or if they refuse, to gun them down in the streets?

Yes, you read that right. If they won't convert, kill them.

Based upon a popular Christian book series, this video game allows children to choose their team and hunt down non-Believers in New York City on the eve of the Apocalypse. You can choose to be one of the bad guys, but if you do, the game is programmed so that you can't win. The characters have names and, according to the news report, some of the bad guys have Muslim-sounding names.

I would say "Have heart! This game is difficult to find." But the reason it's hard to locate is because they are selling so fast the stores can't keep the shelves stocked. There are protests against it but the major carrier- you guessed it, Walmart- refuses to stop selling it because it's a money-maker. At least they were honest about their motives.

This game is so wrong that even other Christians are horrified by it and are joining in the protests. But those pesky Family Values people fully support the game and feel that it teaches young people the right lessons on how to live.

Now, I can hear some people saying "What's the big deal? There have been violent video games for a long time. Why is this one so special?" First, if you hang around me in real life at some point you are apt to hear a rant from me on games such as Grand Theft Auto and its ilk for what they promote. But what I find so awful about this "Christian" game is that it encourages religious intolerance and hatred- something I've sadly come to expect from radicals of any religion- but which also teaches children to react violently to those who refuse to believe as they do. And the target market is openly children. Those Family Values people consider it wholesome.

It's hypocritical hate-mongering, and it's disgusting.

^* I refuse to promote this product by link or name here. If you really want to know the name, email me and I'll tell you.

Savouring The Moments

It is possible that being awoken every few minutes to be told "I love you" might be excessively annoying. In fact, it is. However when there are extenuating circumstances it is really rather touching. That was the case this morning.

The father of one of Randy's oldest friends died a few days ago, and the funeral was today. My husband was close to this family and was deeply saddened by the loss. Death has a way of making us turn to those we care for to reaffirm our love of them, to make sure they know just how precious they are to us. So if Randy needed to wake me up to tell me once more that he loves me, I can simply say "I love you too," and mean it.

Death can also lead to reminiscences and introspection, and that is where this finds me now. I am at peace for the moment, sitting in front of a fire while I write this. There is a tree standing nearby waiting to be decorated. From the first time I ever set foot in this house and saw this room, I imagined a Christmas tree in the corner. We were never able to make that a reality for practical reasons, until now. If I had my way it would be decorated already and I would have photos to share. However I haven't been well lately and Randy wanted me to rest after the funeral today. He refused to get the ornaments out of the attic for me, so it will have to wait. But I look at the tree and I think Soon.

Soon.

There's such a sense of serenity as I write this, watching the flames slowly dying and listening to the quiet little popping sounds of the sparks. My mind keeps wandering back to earlier years. My "Uncle Mary," who I know reads this sometimes, will most likely remember the way the family would gather around the fireplace at my grandparents' home in the winter time. We would sit and talk, perhaps with some music in the background, maybe play some games or read, or simply sit quietly and watch the flames dance. I have re-created that a little in my home. Randy and I turned off the lights and curled up on the couch in front of the fireplace with Wheezy sleeping beside us and Sam watching over all. Sometimes we talked, sometimes we dozed and sometimes we simply sat and watched the fire or its light on the walls and ceiling. Randy had spilled a few wood pellets on the floor. Perhaps the dancing shadows made them come alive for Wheezy or maybe she just suffered a psychotic break, but all of a sudden she started attacking the pellets with a crazed look in her eye. Just as suddenly as it began, it ended and she curled up with us once more. Patches didn't join us; instead he eyed the base of the tree. He likens the tree water in the basin with the Nectar of the Gods and was awaiting an auspicious moment to make his move. I rarely see him drinking from the base, but the water level goes down so the cloaking device he uses while in Stealth Kitty mode is clearly operational.

These are good times. I feel the need for a change coming soon. I sit and dream my dreams and make my plans and try to weave both dreams and plans into something whole. The strands of these things are still too delicate to bear the weight of scrutiny yet, so I'll share more on that another time.

Goodnight, friends.

Carter's New Book

Jimmy Carter was just on The Tonight Show to promote his new book, Palestine: Peace Not Apartheid. It's supposedly quite controversial but I liked the way he presented himself and defended his stance during the interview. I normally avoid nonfiction, but this is one work I think I'll pick up. He discusses the need to create a peace between Israel and Palestine in order to achieve peace elsewhere in the Middle East, and how it might be accomplished. I'd like to read it; based on the interview I believe I largely agree with what Carter had to say.

On The Radio

...City Music Hall building, that is-

Highs And Lows In Manhattan

My siblings were pleasantly surprised by the trip, though Ashley has a cold. Mom and I both brought medicine though so it turned out fine.

The city was beautiful- thanks for the lights Tony!- and we had a good time. I will never go back again on the weekend during the holidays, however. The sidewalks were wall-to-wall people crammed in so that we often had to walk sideways. While at an intersection my sister was shoved forward about 3' into traffic by some woman. Thankfully Ashley wasn't hurt; she caught her balance and avoided getting hit. But that's the sort of day it was. I don't like crowds that size so I was happier when we got away from Times Square and 5th Avenue. Central Park was far less congested and allowed me to catch my breath. There was something going on there too, though, at least where we first approached. There were something like 20 or 30 police cars parked or stationed up and down the road. Traffic was at a standstill for somebody or other. I don't know who, but they were obviously more important than the Average Joe. Luckily we were on foot and weren't detained, so we moved on.

The highlight of the day was Rockefeller Center. I darted around trying to take photos amongst all of the jostling insanity, and then I joined my family as they watched the skaters. All of a sudden there were shouts and applause. A man had brought his girlfriend to the center of the ice and proposed in front of the masses of people watching. She said yes and there was lots of kissing and crying and kissing some more. Then some friends who were obviously in on the whole thing skated over, gave hugs and started taking pictures. It was very cool.

The low point of the day came towards the end. We had planned to take the last train back, but then my brother- an insulin-dependent diabetic- realized that he was missing his syringe to inject his insulin with. There were only two options: get him to an ER and wait for hours until they could see him, or come home. You can't buy syringes without a prescription, therefore replacing it at a pharmacy wasn't a possibility. We decided to catch the earlier train, but this decision was made at 5:00 and that train was scheduled to leave at 5:18. We were 4 very crowded blocks away from Grand Central and we had to race, but we made it just in time, mostly by running in the street parallel to the sidewalk. Poor Andrew was pale as a ghost, weak and sick, breaking out in a sweat. We were worried he wouldn't be able to make it back. Mom asked the conductor if he could find out if there were any other diabetics on the train who might be able to help. He said he would have to talk to the engineer. I don't know whether he did or not, but nothing more came of it. He walked by mom several times without acknowledging her! Mom sat with Drew and watched over him, giving him ice water to sip on when he was able. He rested and started to feel better as we got closer to home. Once off the train we stopped and bought him a diet ginger-ale to settle his stomach and dilute his blood sugar a little until he got home to his diabetic supply kit.

He's fine, but it was scary for awhile!

So that was our day. Mom and I agree that when we go back next year it will be on a weekday when the place is not so out of control. Despite everything, though, we had fun. And that's what the trip was all about, right?

Other interesting points of the day:

- we stopped to eat at what looked from the outside to be a dingy, greasy sort of Italian restaurant about the size of a quarter. Once inside, however, we discovered that the place was huge and elegantly decorated. The food was excellent, too!

*Interesting point within interesting point: our waiter had tattooed eyebrows instead of the real thing...

- Mom walked into the bathroom on the train, or started to anyway. There was a man with his pants down, using the facilities without locking the door behind him. His back was to her at the time, a fact I'm sure they were both grateful for!

- Not every Barnes and Noble has a Starbucks, and not every Starbucks has a bathroom.

In The Air And On A Train

Last night I dreamed that there was a king of Canada, and that I was traveling across the country with him and his retinue from western Canada to some point east, I'm not sure where. I'm not sure why, either, except that it was related to some governmental issue with which I was supposed to help. Our plane was accompanied by another jumbo jet. All of a sudden the pilot of the other plane lost control of it and it went into a spin. It crashed, landing flat and upside down, exploding instantly. I heard the people scream on the other plane as it went down, but then I realized our own plane was in danger. It started to take a nosedive and I knew we weren't going to make it, either. Before we crashed, though, my alarm went off and I woke up. Talk about timing!

Then I woke up with the song 9 to 5- from the movie with the same name- running through my brain. I finally got rid of it, but now as I write I've begun to hear dear Dolly in my head again.

Also on my mind today is the fact that I feel like I might be coming down with a cold. I'm fighting it hard though. As I said yesterday, I have other plans. And no, it isn't counting my toes this time. Instead, my mom and I are surprising my younger siblings with a trip to Manhattan in a few hours. We're going to Rockefeller Center, and will check out the Christmas window displays for starters, and then play it by ear from there. I'm really looking forward to it.

So you see, a cold would be inconvenient.

A Tale, A Time And Toes

Serious work has begun on the re-write of my NaNo novel. I never actually carried out the plot to its conclusion, but have decided to start this second draft instead before writing the ending. I've been trimming out the poorly-written padding while fleshing out the actual characters and background properly. I now have time to think about details, so that's what I'm doing.

I've had to stop for the night, though. My step-father needs a ride to a nearby city for some medical tests tomorrow. I don't know what he's having done but they told him he wouldn't be able to drive afterwards, which is why he asked me to take him. It can't be too serious however; he suggested we get lunch when they're done with him. The upshot of this is that I have to get up at 7:30 tomorrow morning. Those of you who know me, please stop laughing so loudly. You'll scare away the others.

Anyway, this means that I have to somehow make myself fall asleep earlier tonight. This is normally not something I can do but for some reason I actually do feel a little sleepy right now. This usually indicates that I'm getting sick, but I hope not. I have other things I'd rather do.

Like re-count my toes to make sure that I really have five of them on each foot. Just in case there was an accounting error before and I actually only have four, for example.

G'night!

Staying Warm

This little fire is currently warming our entire house to 70 degrees. It's so lovely to turn the lights off and curl up in front of it, mesmerized as I watch the sparks pop.

A Wicked Sequel

Both LazyGal and Jenni asked to hear my thoughts when I finished reading Gregory Maguire's Son Of A Witch, sequel to his unbelievably successful novel Wicked. First I need to admit that it's been a very long time since I read Wicked. And while I liked it well enough, I'm one of the few people who preferred his second novel, Confessions Of An Ugly Stepsister. But I had read his second novel first, so perhaps it suffered from following Confessions. I had looked forward to reading Wicked, to reading the Oz story from this different perspective. But it wasn't quite what I expected. I don't know what I had expected, but that wasn't it and it threw me. Okay, enough about all of that.

Given these issues, I hadn't been all that excited about Son Of A Witch. I'm not even sure what prompted me to buy it. Call it a whim. But I did. I wasn't going to read it right away. However those two lovely friends had solicited my thoughts and I didn't want to keep them waiting too long, so I bit the bullet and read it.

It wasn't bad.

For the most I found myself enjoying it more than I had it predecessor. It was a page-turner, unpredictable at times and the surprises were not always pleasant. Maguire is not one to write "pretty." His characters have faults. For example, Liir was such a weasally little prig during his military phase, culminating in that coldness which led to the burning of the bridge. At least the remorse he felt led him back from the Dark Side. I kept expecting more from him throughout the novel. It was Candle who helped him to take a more active role in his own life, but he didn't treat her particularly well either. Despite his failings I kept cheering him on, wanting him to believe in himself and grow a spine. He occasionally rose to the occasion, even though he was usually tardy in doing so.

I found the political references to be a little heavy-handed at times. It's not that I didn't agree with the message. I did. Its obvious references to modern politics pulled me out of the story though and I'd have to work my way back into it. It wasn't hard. Despite the elements that I disliked, on the whole it was a good book. I suspect it was Part 2 of a trilogy, and I would read Part 3 without hesitation. I'm curious about what happens next. It has even led me to consider the possibility that I should go back and reread Wicked with fresh, unbiased eyes. I believe I'll like it better this time, and if I don't, I still liked its sequel, and that's enough to get on with.

And So It Is

The jury's in: the water softening system must be replaced. Well, no surprise there. So far this year, not including the carpentry work, we've had to replace the water pump, the fuel tank and now the water softening system. Let's hope that's the last of it.

Anybody watching Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip? I love that show. Tonight's episode was the best one yet. Excellent storylines aside, I liked the way the last 4 minutes were dedicated to New Orleans. It was beautifully done. And while we're speaking of great shows: how about Heroes? Now we've got to wait until Jan. 22. to find out what happens next. This season's tag line was of course "Save the cheerleader, save the world." It would seem that Spring's tag line will be "Are you on the list?"

Well, are you?

Still no holiday spirit, but I'll keep looking. It's just so brown and bleak here. It flurried to no purpose today; the flakes never reached the ground. How sad this seemed to me! To have come all this way, whirling and wending their way through the sky in their wintry dance, and to never to reach their destination. Becoming ghosts of themselves, they dissipated.

This isn't the way the life of a snowflake should end.

Ducking Reality Tonight

Our water softening system is leaking pretty badly. Randy says it's probably just a problem with a pipe or somesuch. While that's a nice theory, the truth is that the system has been in place since his grandmother lived here over twenty years ago. I think we're going to have to replace it.

*sigh*

Randy is going to try to get someone over to take a look at it later today. Hopefully if we have to replace it, the stupid thing will last at least another twenty years.

I think I'm just going to go stick my nose in a book or finish watching a sappy Christmas movie or something to take my mind off the less pleasant aspects of the day. I don't have even a hint of the Christmas spirit yet; it doesn't feel real right now. Maybe the movie will help. It's Noel with Susan Sarandon, Robin Williams, Penelope Cruz, etc. The premise is that a group of strangers, each with their own brand of baggage, all meet on one special Christmas Eve...

New Theme Available

If you look to the left you might note the new feature, "Themes." This would be what I've been working on, because the dark text on the white background could be a little too much for sensitive eyes. It took forever to figure out- as usual, I massively over-complicated something that was eminently simple in actuality- and then there were all of the nasty little bugs that needed squashing. I would get something to look right only to have it turn mysteriously wrong with a page refresh. Or the ever-popular cross-browser issues: what looks good in one looks wrong in another. Tonight I thought I had everything looking perfect, and I shut off the computer. When I turned it on again later, it had screwed up once more. I think I've finally nailed down the problem. At any rate, I was able to restart the computer without altering the appearance of my blog. So that's where I'm at.

I'm still working on some things, but at least this is done and I can obsess a little less.

He Got A Free Pass

Randy didn't turn on the alarm for me this morning. I woke up when my mother called me 15 minutes before I was due to meet her! Thank goodness she called or I would have slept through. I told her that I was running a few minutes late and jumped out of bed, racing to get ready. But I didn't have a chance to take a shower first and I felt so grubby. My hair was determined to look stringy and by the time I got out the door I had given in to the urge to slam my brush on the counter and loudly utter several expletives, many of which had Randy's name appended to them.

I eventually made it out the door and was only five minutes later than I had originally said I was going to be.

But I had been cold to him the day before for no good reason, so I took a deep breath, sucked it up and let it go. I spent the evening paying attention to him instead of one of my projects. It was nice. There were some really bad storms including a tornado touchdown the next town over. The power went out a couple of times so I lit candles all around the living room just in case it went out completely. The soft lighting was lovely and I wondered why I didn't use candles instead of lamps more often. I have millions of candles; why don't I use them? Most of them are scented, and they blended well together. It transformed the room into a serene, cozy cocoon and I left the candles lit long after the storm had passed.

It was just the sort of night that I like.

Living With A Spouse-icle

That's what I'm doing tonight. Poor Randy; he asked if there was anything he could do for me, and he's probably just beginning to thaw out now as a result. I didn't yell at him; on the contrary, I gave him a look, a terse "no thanks" and ignored him while I continued to try to figure things out for myself.

It seems that lately I'm not happy unless I'm trying to meet a difficult challenge: wall finishing, new templates, NaNo, etc. I know that I could make my life so much easier if I would just ask someone for the answers, or simply for help puzzling something out. But will I?

Absolutely not.

No, I have to chip away at it minute by frustrating minute. Right off the top of my head I can think of two people who would be able to tell me exactly what I need to know at the moment. It won't happen. I will bang my head on the wall until one side of my head is flat before I'll turn to someone else for the answer.

That would be Cheating.

But trial and error and trial again is beneficial for me because that's usually how I learn: by simply doing. I become so focused during this process that I become irritated by any interruptions which cause me to lose my grasp on the situation that I'm beginning to understand, and then I have to start all over again. I hate distractions when I'm working on a challenge that I'm intent upon.

I have to get over that, I really do.

I know that Randy has already forgiven me, but that doesn't absolve me. He'll be home early tomorrow night, so I can make it up to him just in case he's still feeling a little frostbitten around the edges. I'll put the puzzle aside and put my focus where it belongs: on him.