Category: Writing

Sessile B de Me

Day 491 of being a grandparent.  It certainly makes more kinds of fun possible.

Not really feeling much like moving. There are leftovers to be et.  I made a regular size batch of biscotti and am hoping I will be able to forward a few to Victoria.  I need to send at least six to Juliana and her krewe and Editrix should get at least two although I suspect she’ll want at least four for comparison and so she and her esposo can reasonably discuss them.

They did not rise properly but they are still quite airy and crunchy.  It’s always something…

 

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Conflikt was lovely.  Cindy got out her books, pointed meaningfully at Lady of Komarr, and we sang in a circle which had GONE VERY VORKOSIGAN if you know what I mean.  I wanted to sing Ivan You Idiot but Cindy and I drew a blank on the tune and I didn’t feel like fleeing to the reg area to listen to it.

Roberta and Juliana fed Cindy and I a LOVERLY Thai dinner and attendant earflapping and I asked Cindy to crash in my room (I always get two doubles, just in case) since she wanted to stay another night but had already checked out and man those 32 db attenuation foam earplugs are amazing.  I couldn’t sleep because of JT’s Coffee Cordial (the cocoa cordial was simply phenomenal) but after a while I did and then I let Cindy’s phone alarm go for half an hour while I composed a tune to go along with it.  Then I wrote another song and still she did not awaken.  That lassie is a sound sleeper.  But I was watching her sleep with her cpap on and thinking my god what a good night of sleep she’s having.

Trip north with Jackie Mitchell blasting from the con cd (and Vixy and Tony’s fall about with amusement Santa Baby and Kathleen Sloan’s exCRUCiating filk of Do you want to build a snowman? – Do you want to build an Iron Man? which had me squeeing from word one and TJ’s version of Lullaby for a Weary World I kept having to skip because I’d get all weepy, like that never happens these days.)

HARMONIC MAYHEM performed TAPIOCA with six voices and it was freaking awesome. Tom and Peggy and Jeri Lynn and Jeff and Cindy and Callie were AMAZING as Harmonic Mayhem, and when you’re an international filk group practicing be hard.  Callie was part of the filk supergroup Echo’s Children as was Cat Faber who was sadly not at con but lots of people sang her tunes so she was kind of there anyway.

No writing progress, but a nice long walk yesterday with Paul and then the boys came over for The Adventure of English and Paul stayed for chinese food.

Now a great wave of desire for coffee comes over me.

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At the convention, having a lovely time.  Missed Cade’s concert but caught the deliciously English Jacquie Mitchell’s do, and she did this operatic Star Trek song that had all of us on the floor. ALSO Jeri-Lynn and Shawna singing harmonies for the long song about fairy tale lies and I GOT ARM CHILLS LISTENING TO THEM.

Then Jacquie sang a song about Mills and Boon and GOD mOm I wish you’d been there, it was wizard.

Lem was in a state of bliss after this concert. He was scarcely intelligible he was so happy.

I sang in songbook circle last night just the once (Invective) and said, “This is a song about my ex’s girlfriend, and about how she’s the worst person on earth and how badly I hate her guts, even though she’s not a bad sort really” which got a big laugh. The song made it into the Conflikt songbook thanks to Cindy, and hey she asked for it even though I’m not particularly proud of that song anymore, so I sang it with all the music hall gusto (pace Jacquie) I could muster and got a kindly response.

I had a nice long sit in the con suite yesterday.  I showed up just before lunch which allowed SaladofDoom to make a soda run, and I cleaned up after an elderly fan who left SO MUCH FOOD DEBRIS ON THE FLOOR That I, Even I, felt compelled to clean up after (them). But that was okay because I got the full story on the Death Of Forry Ackerman, which is about as sad and internet messy as things get. Then Frank showed up.

I have to admit that I would listen to Frank Hayes back up to a microphone and fart. I might even pay for it. He played a hilarious song about reincarnation last night in the big room in open circle and yes, he pretended to forget the lyrics.  Yesterday he held forth on the n dash and the m dash, the Oxford comma, one or two spaces after a period, and provided me with some insight as to why things are the way they are in editing land.

I defended my punctuation choices by stating that I come to prose through poetry and give punctuation points not because of ‘the rules’ which are arbitrary place markers of contemporary taste and the laziness of typesetters and the ongoing rear guard of bitching assholes about how English must be defended against all comers at all costs, at which point someone, I think Lem, said, “Which English, there are rather a lot of them…”

I’ve shown a lot of people the cover mockup for Hair Sinister.

Tom and Peggy came from a funeral.  Tom lost a best friend and I feel for him so. His friend was a sailing partner and now that part of life (including the shrimp traps NOM) is much truncated for him. LIFE SUCKS YO.

Got the front pew scoop on the polyamory shitstorm at the Newton church in Maine. VERY INTERESTING STORY and I kept thinking, as I listened, Oh this would never happen at Beacon and then realized that it already had when John S. shut me and Peggy down from putting polyamory on the table for our Welcoming Congregation efforts back in the day. I was ecstatic when he and his wife quit the church over not getting their way about the minister.  Which is sort of what I did, so I’ve got a big crunchy cud of reflection on that when I have the strength. But really I was tired of people who are demented asking me if I have a job yet.  You’re not allowed to yell at demented old ladies, it’s not nice, and since I can no longer guarantee that I’ll keep my temper or not cry (probably more to the point) under those circumstances I’m going to stay home.  Oh, and I had a long time church member tell me WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU’RE NOT HAPPY HERE WE LET YOU BE ON THE BOARD AND WE KNEW YOU WERE POLY.

Helluva thing to say to someone WHO WAS ACCLAIMED. I’ll just let you sit with that two seconds. And they begged me to be Treasurer, so it’s all a bit much really. When your welcome is contingent on a positive answer for “what have you done for us lately” it’s no welcome, it’s a fucking scam. Which is not to say I wouldn’t recommend the church to a young family or an older seeker, but in many ways it’s become a closed religious club for those who still survive of the founders.

But the really big news from yesterday is that one of my all time fave coworkers – Sandy P – with whom I never got to actually work since she mostly worked from home in WA while I was in BC, drove to see me at the hotel and we had beers and LAUGHED OUR ASSES OFF.  She is a total mensch and I loves her.  It was a great day, and I was in bed by midnight, so I’ve essentially missed all the good filking for YET ANOTHER CONFLIKT.  Ha. Time to get some brekky – I may walk up the street to Denny’s.

 

cazart doldrums

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.

400 words for the book of kind words yesterday

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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

Facebook

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.

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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.