In The Fog

No, really, it's pretty darned foggy out there this morning.  Makes it look all spooky and chilly too.  This is one of those days that makes me want to hunker down with an afghan, a pot of hot tea, and a good book or movie.  So, did your guy win?  One of mine did, I'm not saying which one, but one, well, two really of the candidates I made my mark for (I don't count the VPs or uncontested races) still have a job today.  That's not bad, I'm always just glad that I paid attention to the future and went out to cast a vote.  It makes me feel part of a much bigger world and also lucky that we can go to the polling place without fear to take part in such a momentous action.  Good job, us!  I went out to trim the raspberry canes back to the ground, or near to it anyway, and was about a third of the way down the line when I heard the growl of the stick truck on the street.  Oh no.  I glanced between the houses and saw that it was the little loader/gatherer shoving the leaves and trimmings out into the street for the truck to come pick up.  Whew.  That gave me a little time so I ramped up my trimming speed a bit (thank god for thick gloves) and got the tarp-full out there in time for the stick truck to come around and scoop them up.  Now I think I'm ready for the winter to come.  *sigh*  I guess.  If it has to.  And you know it does.  Today's Photo a Day theme is "reflection" so I went out onto the patio so that the leafless apple tree is reflected in the still birdbath.  I like it.  And I like that little apple peeking in the upper right corner.  If I'd have had my wits more about me I'd have moved it closer into the frame but, hey, it was before 7 AM so I wasn't nearly awake.  I went and got my shingles shot yesterday and already my arm has stopped hurting.  I'm such a baby about this stuff, I was all ready to be sore for days (like I am with the flu shot) and to have all sorts of random aches but evidently I won't.  Yay.  My library has a new way to borrow digital media but it didn't seem to like my iPod and wouldn't even talk to my Kindle.  I was quietly frustrated that I couldn't figure out how to use it and was ready to call DS for help but this morning I noticed my old Sony Walkman on the shelf and plugged that in.  It's working!  Hooray!  Now I'll have 3 different doodads full of stories for me to listen to.  I freakin' love my audiobooks.  Love them.  And, look, I wrote a prompt last night.  Go me!

November 7--Salvador Dali & Gilbert Adrian, Dress.  The rayon felt cool against her skin.  Laine liked the way it slipped and swayed as she moved but wondered what Adrian had been thinking  when he asked that Spanish madman to design the fabric.  She loved the gray and black rocks with their long shadows but the pink boulders confused her.  Once she really looked at it she noticed the faces on them, the lips and eyeballs too.  Then she felt uneasy in the soft garment.  Every movement brought the thought of fingers trailing over her skin making her shiver even on such a warm day.

A-a-a-a-and that's creepy, isn't it?  How'd you like to be wearing a dress, a designer dress no less, and be conscious of its movement like things touching you?  Eesh.  No, thanks.  Love the design of it, though.  Have a day.  I'll do my best.
--Barbara

Did You Vote?

If you didn't you need to go right now.  I'll wait...  Okay.  I think of casting my ballot as one small way of getting those finger-pointing loudmouths off my phone and television.  I've said all along that I don't care who you vote for, only that you do vote.  That's all I'm saying about that.  Sorry I didn't post yesterday.  I had posted so late on Sunday night that I really didn't have anything to say so I didn't.  It felt funny not posting though, like I missed brushing my teeth or putting on deodorant.  Today's Photo a Day theme is "a favourite thing" and one of my favorite things lately is my Kindle Fire.  It's where a lot of my books live now (some of them talk to me) and I can play a few games on it (they call them apps, you know) and it has a lot of photos on it that I can show off to random people at the drop of a hat.  It was deader than a doornail at work yesterday.  I had all of one paying customer and one corporate customer whose employer we bill, so I got a good start on trying out a new beanie pattern for a men's chemo cap.  I'd forgotten how many more wrist movements I make when I crochet, plus how if you use a smaller hook it takes longer to get anywhere.  (duh)  This morning after voting I went in search of a shingles vaccine shot.  They don't keep them on hand at my doc's clinic so she gave me an Rx so I could go find my own.  I tried CVS but a lady in the flu shot line said they didn't have it, she'd already asked.  Then I went to the Walgreen's nearest our house and they were closed because their system was down.  So off I went down Oneida St. to the one on the corner of Cormier St.; their system was down too but they were doing business anyway, just not taking credit or debit cards.  Bet those closed Walgreen's folks are going to get an earful about locking the doors.  That Walgreen's had the vaccine so I filled out a bunch of forms and got my shot.  It didn't hurt as much as the flu shot did (smaller needle) but my arm still feels funny which shouldn't surprise me since they shot live virus into me.  Eek.  I've been trying to get Robert our GPS to update but it keeps timing out.  I called TomTom and she said that it's probably because I'm using a wireless Internet but I don't know how to hook my laptop up to the modem.  I've got a call into the fixit guys I usually use but  they haven't called back yet and I'm not their customer anymore so maybe they'll be less helpful, although I can't imagine that they would be since they're local and really really nice.  I'm not doing well at all at NaNoWriMo.  I started slow, then for a day I was on track, and I've done no writing the last couple days.  I'm not sure why but I suspect that this isn't a good year for me to write a new novel.  Maybe I'll drag out my next oldest manuscript and get started retyping it.  I've been working on adding scenes where it needs it, now it's time for me to bite the bullet and re-key the whole thing from "once upon a time" to "and they all lived happily ever after."  I'll think about it.  There's plenty of November left.
--Barbara

There's White Stuff Falling Out There

Durwood and I had an appointment with our financial advisor this morning early and when I left the building to come to work there were white specks of some sort of precipitation falling from the sky.  Snow-ish sort of stuff.  Yikes.  I'm not psychologically ready for snow although we did get the tuned-up snowblower back from the fixit shop on Thursday so we're good to go when the flakes really do fly.  (better get gas)

I went along with Durwood for another radiology appointment on Friday (don't they have enough pictures of his insides yet? they take a new one every 6 month) and noticed for the first time that they've got a wicker trunk full of chemo caps for women and a small box of ball caps for men.  Nothing warm and soft for a newly bald man's head, so I put out a call to the board members of Bay Lakes Knitting Guild right away, I plan to put it on the BLKG blog today, and now I'm telling you.  I'm guessing that it's the same all over, everyone makes cute knitted and crocheted caps for women and the men are out of luck.  I understand that  some men choose to shave their heads (DS included) as a fashion statement so a man who has lost his hair during chemo doesn't stand out like a woman in the same boat does, but those caps are also a symbol of caring and hope and support.  Men might pretend to be he-men but they do have feelings (I know they do, I've seen it) and the disparity between the sexes couldn't be more obvious.  I'm asking all knitters and crocheters out there to do what guild member, Andy's doing and work up your leftover balls of yarn into a few caps for men.  Swing by your local oncology clinic or wherever they're needed (like a VA hospital where nearly all the cancer patients are men) and spread a little yarn-y love.  My plan is to have one always OTN (on the needles) or OTH (on the hook) so that when I need a little break, a little instant project gratification, I can work on a hat and therefore have a tidy pile that I can deliver once a month. 

Think about this; making a few he-man chemo caps could be the one good deed that springs your soul from Purgatory and ushers it right through the Pearly Gates when the time comes... I'm just saying.

Lastly how about a gratuitous cute grand-dog picture.  Here's Porter bored with all the football games and no one taking her outside to play.

Just Under the Wire

Whew, I'm just going to make posting today.  It's been a busy one.  I had a haircut at 9:30 (thank god, I was about ready to shave my head), went to Walmart for a rotisserie chicken and a bag of frozen carrots to make lunch soup, got home, and zoom, it was time to go to DS & DIL1's for Family Supper Brunch.  They made biscuits and sausage gravy, a mushroom egg bake smothered in cheese, mimosas, HZ brought fresh fruit, and Durwood made a loaf of chocolate almond quick bread.  Oh. My. God.  Oh. My. God.  It was so good, there are no words.  DIL1 had made more tiny, heart-shaped biscuits just in case we needed to dab a little blackberry jam on them.  I needed to.  More than once.   We stayed to watch the Packer game (I knitted) and everyone petted the well-behaved Porter quite a bit.  Then we drove home, running into the outflowing traffic before we got here, and I decided at about 4:30 that I really did need to mow the grass one more time, and with the bagger on to mulch up and gather up the remaining leaves.  You know Daylight Savings Time ended early this morning, right?  That meant that it was light when I woke up around 6:30, so no more sunrise photos for a while.  That also meant that it was already getting dark when I went out to mow and by the time I was done an hour later, it was full dark.  The only things that let me finish were the streetlight on the corner and the motion sensor lights in the front and back, but I had to get it done because my next chance to do it is Tuesday and they're talking about us having rain and snow showers then.  Can't mow in the snow, now, can I?  No, I can't.  Now I can put the lawnmower into the shed for the winter with a clear conscience.  Today's Photo a Day theme is "TV."  I don't feel strongly about much on TV but I will not miss CBS Sunday Morning.  Not for anything.  Also now my soup's cool enough for me to dip out lunch servings and put the remainder into the fridge and go to bed.  Sleep well, y'all.

Pink Light

That's what I saw when I opened the back curtains this morning, pink light.  It amazes me how light can be a color and still be see-through.  I don't understand it but I suspect it has something to do with refraction, at least I know that's what makes the clouds different colors at sunrise and sunset, I assume the same principle holds true for the colored light.  Any scientists out there who can enlighten me?  (heh, get it?  en-LIGHT-en?)  I snapped a picture, scaring a rabbit and confusing a chipmunk in the process, but now that I look at my picture the sky looks orange-pink like always.  Trust me, it was pink out there.  Not just pink but PINK, not for long, maybe only a few minutes, but definitely PINK.  I know there's a saying about "red sky at morning" being a warning to sailors but what about a pink sky?  Maybe just a mild caution?  Today's Photo a Day theme is "breakfast" and I've gotta say my usual breakfast is a real snore to take a picture of.  What's interesting about a brown bowl of brown Cheerios studded with a few prunes and a spotty banana?  Not much, that's what, but I'm determined to not set up shots, to take pictures of the world around me if I can, so Cheerios it is.  Do you like my placemat?  It's the crossword puzzle and it's done.  The smaller Mensa 10-minute one propped up on its stand isn't even started and I have to confess it will probably be ignored because the weekend ones are real stinkers.  It's too tempting to just flip up the page and look at the answers so I just leave them alone or only fill in the few words I can easily get.  I like the weekday ones that I can zoom through.  We both do them, Durwood copies them for himself and gives me the "real" ones to do.  He usually finishes them too, unless they're full of names.  Durwood's not so good remembering names or even paying attention to authors' and actors', etc. names.  I am not feeling the NaNoWriMo vibe this year.  Makes it hard to plonk myself in front of my desk, but I'll keep on working on it.  Here's a bit of yesterday's output:

She got a charge out of the roving bands of tourists dressed in every interpretation of western wear and camping wear imaginable.  She especially liked the people whose khakis still bore the fold marks from the package, like they’d left Abercrombie and Fitch or Eddie Bauer and driven directly to Yellowstone National Park.  She was also amazed at the number of rental recreational vehicles in the parking lots.  No way would she get into one of those behemoths, get onto the highway and drive across country.  The ride over the Beartooth Highway in a car was scary enough she could not imagine being on that narrow and twisting road with its sheer drops and falling rocks in a hulking Recreational Vehicle the first time behind the wheel.  There had been a little admiring clutch of giggling women around Matt who was standing on the wide sidewalk in front of the new looking stone and timber building.  Not all of the women were young either, Finn saw more than one gray haired matron in the crowd.  She was kind of reassured to know that when she got to be that old she’d still be interested in young hunks but at the same time she was a little disgusted at their public display of… of… well, out and out silliness.  Where did they think they were junior high? 

Okay, that's all folks.  I'm going to strip the bed, put fresh sheets on it, put fresh towels in the bathroom, then go downstairs and put the sheets and towels in the washer.  Procrastinate much, Barbara?

--Barbara Sue

Yes

Yesterday morning I tucked my Alphasmart (hereinafter known as Alphie) into the bag o'crap that I take to work with me and plunged in.  Like I said before, all I had was a mental snapshot but that was enough to begin.  I didn't make it far yesterday, not even to 200 words, but it was enough of a start to keep going.  This morning Durwood had a very early morning appointment so I took Alphie along, got a cup of decaf (only one cup of caff for me a day), plugged my iPod into my ears playing one of those New Age-y "rain in the jungle" CDs to block out ambient noise, and started typing.  I was even able to write with the nurseling in the room.  Now that's concentration, don't you think, and I didn't even have the iPod on yet.  Once we were home and I'd scarfed down some breakfast I uploaded the file from Alphie to a Word doc and found I had just over 1200 words.  That's including yesterday's pittance but I'm pleased.  As soon as I'm done here, I'll be back pounding Alphie's keys scrolling words up and out of his small, 4-line display.  That tiny screen's why I got Alphie in the first place.  I tend to reread and reread and rewrite as I go instead of just flinging the words onto the page or screen so being able to glance up and see only those 4 lines keeps me moving forward.  I allow myself to spellcheck once it's uploaded at the end of the day's work but I don't even split it into paragraphs at that point.  I'm too unreliable.  I know I'd sneak a read and then be unable to resist "fixing" it.  And I have my symbolic inner-Hitler (the grammar, punctuation & spelling harpy that lives in my head) sealed in a jar for the duration.  If worse comes to worse I can open the jar and throttle her but I don't need to just yet.  Maybe later.  Today's Photo a Day theme is "colour" (she's from Australia) so I thought you might enjoy seeing the red sky out the back of the dive shop last night.  Oh, I can't forget that I promised JJ, one of the dive instructors who also works at a sign company, that I'd sew up some awning canvas for him to pick up later today.  Seems he screwed up and they couldn't find any real canvas stores with the time to sew this 18" seam before week after next.  It's going to take me no more than half an hour to get the job done, even making a flat-felled seam.  Morons.  (Sometimes people give me a cramp.)  So that's what I need to do first, THEN I can get back to writing.  Here's a little taste...

Finn walked faster.  It was easy, she was going downhill.  She could still hear him breathing behind her, still thought she could feel him getting closer.  Why had she agreed to go hiking with him?  He’d given her the creeps from the first moment they met and yet she’d overridden her instincts and walked off into the back country with him.  Matt Wennig looked like everyone’s idea of a western man, tall and lean with ropy muscles in his forearms and able to walk all day uphill and down.  He wore tight, washed out blue jeans, hiking boots, and a worn in cowboy hat.  It was the look in his eyes when he thought no one was looking that set her nerves on edge.   His public face was open and friendly, he was quick to stick out his hand to shake and quick to tip his hat to a lady, but in repose his mouth was set in a hard line and his eyes were cold and calculating.  She first saw him when he was giving an orientation talk outside the Visitor Center in Canyon Village where Finn was staying.  

Okay, chillens, that's it for me today.  Lots to do.

--Barbara

Yes or No?

NoNoWriMo, that is.  That's National Novel Writing Month for those out there who aren't part of the insanity, don't write, or know someone who does.  Now that I've coerced Lala and Roi into saying they'll do it, I don't know if I can.  Today, the very first day, when the rubber's supposed to meet the road, I felt around up there where the words are supposed to live and all I found was an echoing emptiness.  That's not good.  I'm supposed to poop out 1,667 words today and every day this month to reach the 50,000 word goal by the 30th.  I've got a vague idea of what I want to write, a mental snapshot of a running woman, but that's about it.  I guess I'll just haul out my Alphasmart and start typing.  Something's bound to come--and I can always type "this was a dumb idea" 333.4 times and I'll be golden.  (Yeah, like I'd do that.)  Something will come.  And I can always fall back and retype my last novel (which really needs it) to fulfill the quota and get a chore I'm avoiding done.  I even have a cool jump drive bracelet to put my novel on... so why am I cowering in the basement (of my mind)?  If you have the answer, let me know.  Today's Photo a Day theme is "something beginning with "c" and I bring you COLD.  (I woke up thinking I wasn't going to do PAD because I'm doing NaNoWriMo.  I do NOT need two things I "have" to do daily in my life, this month or any month.  I swear to god that the older I get the more scatterbrained I get and piling on the "should"s has never been a good idea for me and it's not getting to be a better one anytime soon.  Still I persist in doing it.  What is it with me?  Do I have a crazy wish?  (I know I don't have a death wish, there're just too many things I still want to do, but I seem bent on driving myself batshit crazy.  What gives?))  I stepped outside the patio doors around 7:15 to top up the birdbath and there were little white pellet-like things falling out of the sky making a pecking sound on the dry leaves.  Hmm.  Snow?  Sleet?  Ice balls?  Pick any one, add in the darkness, and the equation adds up to C-C-C-COLD.  Daylight savings time can't end soon enough (this coming Saturday night/Sunday morning--set your clocks & change your smoke alarm batteries!) for me either because the sun wasn't up, wasn't even tinting the clouds on the horizon yet.  That happened 20 minutes later, see?  Oh hell, it's 8 o'clock.  I wanted to be done with this by now so that I can drag a brush through my hair.  The fixit guy is supposed to be delivering our tuned-up snowblower and lawnmower between 8 & 10 and Durwood's still pounding his ear, the darling.  I'm envious that he can roll over and go back to sleep and I have to get up when my %^$#@ alarms ring.  Humph.  But I do like the quiet.  It's a trade-off.

November 1--Tunisia, Folio from the Blue Qur'an.  The lake was like midnight blue glass with streaks of golden starlight on the surface.  Jean sat in the Adirondack chair on the end of the dock listening to the frogs and watching bats swoop and dive catching insects.  There wasn't a breath of a breeze to ruffle the lake and the moon had yet to rise.  What had Steeno meant when he said that Gramps had fallen behind?  She knew the place had been paid for generations back.  The dock trembled.  She looked over her shoulder to see their old Lab, McGee, coming to keep her company.

With any luck I'll have a tiny piece of a new novel (or some tidied-up old one) to put up there tomorrow morning.  Fingers crossed.
--Barbara Sue