Author: Allegra

But the kitchen floor is swept and the rugs washed.  Every time I put down fresh rugs Buster puts a footlong skidmark on the one closest to the fridge, and I hate looking at them.  Clean your bum, duDE!

Word count is now 33260 but I feel like I’m gonna be Penelope on everything I’ve written the last three days so I’m not going to count em up until later.

I want to lie in the sun for a week; I feel like contentment is purring next door and I can’t leave the house (not literally true – went for a walk yesterday with Paul which was very pleasant and yes mOm he got the family history books.) Not hearing back from the job interview doesn’t lift my mood. Every time I go for an interview I’m knocked off course for a while as I panic and think I’ll never finish this novel if I get a job and start thinking very very Marvin-ish thoughts.

So PM me if you want me to keep writing.  I’m a little shrivelled at the moment.

gudDAMM but it’s terrible, after effing about all morning I finally settle to write and elephants start dancing on the ceiling.  I go out and Kim and a workman are tangling with the gutters and drains about the house, which is fine by me, now that I know what the uck is fupp.

Back to writing, I got multiple deadlines after all.

Today is fer clearing.  Gonna set the timer now.

Yesterday had the most affecting encounter with an eclecticus parrot named Little E at the Butterfly Sanctuary. He eyed me and then moved closer to me. I bowed to him repeatedly and echoed his little calls; he flew onto my chest and commenced to loving on me including grooming my nose hairs. (alarming but adorbs). He allowed me to walk while he rode on my arm. A professional photographer captured the moment and apparently pOp exchanged emails with him for later photos. I managed to maintain my composure long enough to get selfie video as well. I’ll add the YouTube address when I’ve uploaded it.

As we got to the sanctuary a bald eagle flew over our heads. As we left, there was a rainbow. Yesterday was a fury of symbols for sure.

I have a job interview this afternoon.  The thing about job interviews is if you don’t go on them you can’t get jobs. I know this is very simple minded, but that’s about where I am.

After the job interview I’m going to go pick up a rented car and then pick up my daughter and grandson and go to Victoria the following morning being Thursday, since going over the evening means two difficult sleeps not one.  Only going overnight. Cue squeeing from mOm.  Or not, maybe she won’t read this before I phone her.

I think I found a new sf and fantasy imprint where I might want to submit.

IT’S BEEN BALLY AGES SINCE I POSTED A DECENT MOOSEPIC. Moose mom and twins in sprinkler in Alaska.

Why do women constantly worry that they might be pregnant?  

Never been so happy to be through the change….

Not much to report.  Writing continues.  Weather is full of suck.

Mike has REPOTTED HIS NORFOLK PINE.  It’s not quite heroic but the damned thing’s 6 foot and it will no longer bite me in the neck the next time he feeds me dinner. But it’s where it will still get lots of light.

I’m thinking about trying to make congee. Or something else that I can make in one pot.  That Martha Stewart one pan pasta meal was fricking awesome, and fast. I think there might be one more meal of it in the fridge.

I’m trying to unplug from normal breakfast choices.  I could have stew for breakfast, nothing wrong with that.  And I shouldn’t but I’m gonna make more coffee.

I should probably eat some breakfast and unload the dishwasher.

Looking at the world from 14 floors up on a rainy day is still more interesting than being on the ground. and so much more light!

The plants here are persloding.

I hereby declare that any writing I do today will be a happy accident.

Got to see Keith before he went off for Winter Training. Ai to be so young I could contemplate walkin’ into the Burrard Inlet with nuttin’ but me and me gi and me At’letic cup.

Almost made word count today.

Lovely “what does Sex Positive mean!?” post.

Dang Netflix.

Dear facebook please don’t ask me to wish happy birthday to dead people. Dear allegra don’t be such a putz, you can quit facebook any time you want. Dear facebook you are an enabling bastard and I wouldn’t cross the street to puke in your ear if your brains were on fire. Dear allegra we get that a lot but we must strain to hear you over the immense groan of the earth underneath our server rooms and our satanic grasp of human foibles BWA HA HA.

So far 12 people on facebook have liked this post.

Only wrote 200 words yesterday and cried for the entire thing.  People trying to overcome sadness makes me sad sometimes. But I came up with one epic image of trying to overcome emotional pain with physical pain so I guess that’s interesting. (Turning yourself into an anchor and jumping out of a boat!)

Also Alan Rickman dying.  The tributes. He was really amazing.

I continue to putter.  I am really in the mood for some Agent Carter, so I hope it recorded last night.