Happy New Years!
Friday, December 31, 2004First of all, may you have a brilliant, sweet, tranquil and absolutely fabulous 2005.
I find I do, after all, have a New Year's superstition. More like a tradition, truthfully...every year, as I take my last shower of the year, I focus on the bad...things I regret, things I allow to bother me long after they're forgotten, guilts and sorrows, and I imagine them rising our off my heart and off my soul and to the surface of my skin, where it scrubs away and flows down the drain.
I did that.
Tonight, I will sit in the colored glow of the trees lights, after midnight, and I will think of all the good things. I will think about my new friends and the old ones I managed to hang on to, I will think of the fact that I have two book contracts in my filing cabinet, and I will be very thankful, and I will weave these things tightly into the places vacated by the bad thoughts.
I don't believe in resolutions the way they've come to be defined by our culture, but I do resolve to follow through with my plans. So, my resolutions, I suppose, would be to finish my third book, try and get some of my short stories published, keep ahead on book reviews, and most importantly, keep up with my friends. :D
Permalink Cindy scribed this at 7:47 PM
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Santa Visits Local pet Shop, Brings Guest
Thursday, December 30, 2004We went on a drive today...
Here is what I saw:
A sign outside a bar proclaiming "We have heat! Open at 6"...is that some new drink, or do bars usually not have heat?
I sat out in the cold eating MacDonald's food, watching a bunch of little wrens and other assorted birdies hopping through the dried up branches of some bushes...the twigs and the birds were the same color, and there were so many of them, the bushes looked like they were made up of fluttering, squirming leaves...later, at a pet shop, I'd see a finch of the most extraordinary, glowing butter yellow, and feel sort of bad for him.
A funeral parlor/autobody shop. No kidding.
At the pet shop, which is also a miniature train shop, a man about my age kept pointing to my father, telling his absolutely adorable little girl, "Look, there's Santa, wave to Santa." My father's about 6'7, this huge, strong man, with a white beard and, well, a tummy. My father looked at the little girl and said, "I've already started getting ready for next year." And he handed me something to look at.
"Who are you?" she asked me shyly.
"Ah. I'm an elf." I nod.
She gives me a skeptical look. I'm about average height, not really what you'd call elfy.
"Really," I said, and I crouched down, and I swear I have no idea how I managed it, but I wiggled my ears. Really Wiggled them. Not grit your teeth and see if they'll wiggle a little, either.
Her eyes lit up, and she laughed. "You're the Easter bunny!"
I blushed that my trick didn't work as planned, and said, "Well, you caught me." (So, what? I'm too tall to be an elf, but my lack of fur and ears doesn't bother her imagination?)
When they left, I said, "God, I'm suddenly filled with the urge to reproduce."
"Don't even think it." My mother said.
And nope, can't wiggle my ears now. Tried. It was a one time thing, I guess.
Permalink Cindy scribed this at 3:32 PM
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LOL! 'The urge to reproduce'? 'Don't even think it'? Too funny. Happy New Year, Cindy. :D
Look! Snow!
Monday, December 20, 2004I have been having conversations with the ground for the last month.
"Ground," I say, "Are you frozen yet?" And the ground says, "Well, I don't know...check my ruts." And I do. And generally they are still smushy.
Finally the ruts were hard, meaning I couldn't smush the tire tracks on the driveway anymore, a couple of days ago, and that meant I could finally cover the plants that require covering. So I got out lots of hay, and wrapped my plants...beating out a nice thick fluffy snow story that has now covered everything up by a day. Hopefully, the hay won't have made the plants even more attractive to deer...
And now the world is white. Well, white daubed with some grey and brown, black where the creek down below runs through the valley like a sparkly ribbon when the sun is out, with some green from the holly and pine. I should go make a snowman.
Permalink Cindy scribed this at 3:11 PM
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We got snow down here, too, Cindy. Not much, but enough that it gave the ground a slightly salt'n'pepper look. Certainly not enough to make a snowman.
Chilly!
Saturday, December 18, 2004So, today we decided to actually take the fan cover off the truck heater and clean it out...mice make their nests in very inconvenient places for us humans, and I ended up straddling the fender, one foot wedged next to the engine, one leg handing over the side, clinging to the hinge that holds the hood up with one hand while trying to unscrew this panel with the other, a job that would have been 100% easier if I hadn't kept sliding back down the fender. (Almost slid all the way off the truck and onto the ground, but I managed to catch myself.) And I kept wondering, how did sailors manage to keep themselves from sliding off the spars? I know they had foot lines that they stood on, and all that, but I've seen them straddling those things, too...eek. (Also, read in Villiers that the sailors always stayed so that the wind was blowing behind them, so that it helped them keep their balance on the foot lines...and their hands free to work. Cool, eh?)
Anyway, I'm still getting warm from being outside for three hours, vacuuming the heating thingy on the truck, but it was such a nice, sunny day that it lifted my spirits. At least next time we use the truck, we'll actually have heat. And, I know how to do something else, for myself. Yay independant!me.
Here are lyrics to my very favorite sea shanty, "What shall we do with the drunken sailor"
What'll we do with a drunken sailor,
What'll we do with a drunken sailor,
What'll we do with a drunken sailor,
Earl-aye in the morning?
Chorus:
Way hay and up she rises
Patent blocks o' diff'rent sizes,
Way hay and up she rises
Earl-aye in the morning
1. Sling him in the long boat till he's sober,
2. Keep him there and make 'im bale 'er.
3. Pull out the plug and wet him all over,
4. Take 'im and shake 'im, try an' wake 'im.
5. Trice him up in a runnin' bowline.
6. Give 'im a taste of the bosun's rope-end.
7. Give 'im a dose of salt and water.
8. Stick on 'is back a mustard plaster.
9. Shave his belly with a rusty razor.
10. Send him up the crow's nest till he falls down,
11. Tie him to the taffrail when she's yardarm under,
12. Put him in the scuppers with a hose-pipe on him.
13. Soak 'im in oil till he sprouts flippers.
14. Put him in the guard room till he's sober.
15. Put him in bed with the captain's daughter*).
16. Take the Baby and call it Bo'sun.
17. Turn him over and drive him windward.
18. Put him in the scuffs until the horse bites on him.
19. Heave him by the leg and with a rung console him.
20. That's what we'll do with the drunken sailor.
*) A relative of the cat-o-nine-tails
This was taken from: http://ingeb.org/songs/whatshal.html it has links to the melody. It's slightly different from what I leanered in Chorus, but it's a ton of fun to sing...and loudly! It was a capstan tune, apparently....I quote: "One of the best known of all sea shanties, 'What Shall We Do With The Drunken Sailor?' is a windlass and capstan work song. It was a favourite runabout or 'stamp and go' shanty and, unlike many, it did not require a soloist, being originally sung by all hands as they ran away with the braces when swinging the yards round in tacking the ship."
Permalink Cindy scribed this at 6:00 PM
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I'm so glad you posted that sea shanty! My son sang it last month in his school play! I only caught some of the words because 7 year olds don't always make the clearest singers.
Hope you are well!
Woot! Another thing off the lost...
Friday, December 17, 2004I did my wrapping today. Managed to keep getting my hair caught in the tape (my hair's waist-length) until I went and got one of those clawed torture devices on a spring (have no idea what it's really called) to put it up. Then I couldn't find my scissors, and realized I'd wrapped them in with a present...
But it's done. I like getting the wrapping done early because it seems like such a waste to buy this pretty paper and not get to see it, except when bleary eyed and in desperate need of tea, on Christmas morning.
Permalink Cindy scribed this at 2:20 PM
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You wrapped your scissors inside a present, Cindy?! Oh, my!
I've never done that, but I have managed to wrap my floor and desk in books, magazines, index cards, and story.
Oh, I know, I know! You'll find this humourous! A few days ago, when I got to work, I gathered up all my things from within my car -- my book, my lunch, my diet coke -- then got out and closed the car door. I started walking up to the door of the office building where I worked. I put my hand into my jacket pocket, then stopped dead. My car keys! I had left them in car! I cursed. I walked back to the car and looked inside. There were my keys, sitting in plain sight on the driver's seat. I cursed again. What was I going to do? I cursed some more. I work the night shift, so who could I call to have the car opened for me to get my keys?
And then I stopped, and I mentally beat myself into a pulp. I was such an idiot! I cursed again, only this time I cursed myself. Idiot! I always use the button on my car key to lock the car. The key was in the car. Ergo, the car was not locked. I opened the door, got my key, then cursed my idiocy yet again. Sometimes I can be so thick!
A Hermit's Life for Me!
Thursday, December 16, 2004I went grocery shopping (yes, some of you might be thinking, didn't you *jus* go...well, that was a little trip. This was a larger one, for the Holiday.) today with me mum...and it confirmed why I am pleased to be a hermit.
I think that, the more you live away from people, the more your social skills deteriorate. And the thinner your "people standing" shell becomes. I could have sworn, it used to be that people didn't bother me so much...I used to ignore people who use their shopping carts to push you aside, and it didn't even phase me to say, "Excuse me, I'm sorry to interrupt the conversation the two of you are having, but could one of you move your cart?" That was me when I handled people every day as part of my job. Now, Hermit!Cindy walks *all* away around the blockade to get her white cranberry-peach juice, because she doesn't want to be rude, and besides, it's easier than interacting with those darned humans.
*Is happy to be home*
I'm enjoying Master and Commander quite a bit...but I can't shake the reviewer girl habit. Like, as I read last night, I thought, "Hmmm...Mowett explaining everything to the docotor...clever....I'll have to remember that, point out in this scene that O'Brian uses Doctor Maturin as a proxy for us, in fact, Maturin is sort of our everyman right now, isn't he? As he learns of the ship...so do we...hum...."
But what is also fun is, as each familiar name crosses the page, how much it pleases me. Mr. Lamb! Killick! Mowett's first name is James? I especially liked, when Captain Aubrey is testing the Sophie's guncrews "...and Mr Pullings had helped run up the gun and haul on the rear tackle, gazing absently up into the sky as he did so, to prove that he was not, in fact, there at all."
Huh. I like to open a new email in AOL and cut and paste my posts into it to spell check it...and it wanted me to replace everyman (which, is, I'm sure you remember, a literary term taken from the Medieval play, Everyman.) with everywoman. How blasted PC is that?
Permalink Cindy scribed this at 6:00 PM
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Book reviewing done for the year!
Wednesday, December 15, 2004I counted my book reviews, total, and the count seems a little off....it looks like I'm going to hve to go over the whole book. So far, it looks like my entire life total is 553, out of three years of book reviewing...
Here are some books I thought were pretty cool this year:
SF:
Alan Moore: Voice of the Fire (reissue, Top Shelf)
Kim Harrison: Dead Witch Walking
Dave Duncan: Impossible Odds
Victoria Strauss -- The Burning Land
Jasper Fforde -- Something Rotten
Neal Asher -- The Skinner
Meghan Brunner -- Into the Storm
R.A. Salvatore -- Homeland
Terry Pratchett -- Going Postal
Sarah Ash -- Prisoner of the Iron Tower
Trystam Keith -- A Cold Summer Night
Regular:
The Conquest, Txta Maya Murray
Holy Fools -- JoAnne Harriss
Sharpe's Escape -- Bernard Cornwell
Alice Hodffman -- Blackbird House
Derek's Bane -- Mary Janice Davidson
Mystery
Gregg Hurwitz -- The Program
Jaquiline Farmer -- Perfect Sax
Leslie Silbert -- The Intelligencer
JudithKoll Healey -- The Cantubury Papers
J.A. Konrath -- Whiskey Sour
Lisa Scottoline -- Killer Smile
Nicci French -- Secret Smile
Lincoln Childs/Douglas Preston -- Brimstone
Sujata Massey -- The Pearl Diver
Now, I'm so on vacation, lol! I went walking around the house today, looking at books, realizing I could read any book I want. So, I picked up Master and Commander. Lovely, so far. It'll be nice to read without writing about it...a good vacation will freshen me up.
Permalink Cindy scribed this at 10:08 PM
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Sunday, December 12, 2004Yeah, I know the green's kind of ugly, but now at least you can see my comments. ;)
Permalink Cindy scribed this at 1:39 PM
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It's not too bad. A little Christmas-like, since it's red and green, but, as you said, at least now we can read the comments.
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J.R.R. Tolkien: Lord of the Rings. You are
entertaining and imaginative, creating whole
new worlds around yourself. Well loved, you
have a whole league of imitators, none of which
is quite as profound as you are. Stories and
songs give a spark of joy in the middle of your
eternal battle with the forces of evil.
Which literature classic are you?
brought to you by Quizilla
Feel free to tell me what book you are! :-)
Permalink Cindy scribed this at 1:10 PM
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What book am I? Hmm. Well, given that I seem to be writing a lot of urban fantasy based on different sorts of mythology, I guess I'd have say I'm presently Gaiman's AMERICAN GODS. Funny thing is, it only seems appropriate since my present story, TAD, has managed to have a good bit of Navajo mythology weaved into the tale. I just finished today's writing session. It was most productive! 641 words! I was a wee bit worried about where this story would go today, until I took some time to read about Spider Rock, which sits in the middle of Navajo country. That little bit of reading provided a ton of inspiration, with plenty of impetus left over for tomorrow's session.^^
This story has taken on such a different colour than I originally envisioned, it's amazing. That doesn't bother me, though. I know that what's going on with it at present is right. For once, I simply followed my character instead of worrying about what would happen. Funny how Biblical principles apply even to writing: "take no thought for the morrow, for it has enough troubles of its own." A paraphrase, but it's close enough.
My least favorite time of the year...
Thursday, December 09, 2004I can't wait for deer season to be over. I think it might be the last day, because the last minute hunters seem to be out. There is a lot of shooting going on out there.
I live in the middle of the woods, just off a highway, so you know that many men in orange have been driving up and down the road these past weeks. You'd think, since one of the main properties is a dairy farm, that my neighbor would have no hunting posted, but I've been seeing orange dots all over his property, so all I can say is, I hope he's keeping his cows in the barn.
I think hunting is needed...deer have no natural predators, so they starve if there's too many of them. Last year, the winter was so bad, that I spread out hay for them. They ate the ever greens next to my house, which is truly a desperate act...and they actually slept under my window. One moonlit night I could see them, dark shadows against the show. You can tell, in PA, how long deer season will be, by how many deer bodies you count along side the road. But I get terribly disgusted by people who don't use the meat. I can respect someone who's feeding their family, or who donates the meat to the needy, but when food goes it waste, it makes me sick.
*Slouches in her chair as she hears another round. Idiots! AIM first, OK?*
A few days ago I went down to the road. I saw a deer running towards me...she looked so small, that I thought it was a dog, steam pouring out her nostrils. She stopped, looked at me, before squeezing between the wires of the electric fence and disappearing over the hill. I stood there, pleased by the experience, until I realized that she was probably running from something.
I am *so* staying in the house today.
Permalink Cindy scribed this at 11:57 AM
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Hmm. I think I'd live in a hotel until deer season was over, Cindy. Don't believe I've posted here at your blog before. Or, perhaps I have, and have forgotten. How long is deer season up there? You didn't mention it in your post.
I had an interesting experience a few days ago. I was driving home from work, and as I rounded this bend, there was a fawn standing in the middle of the road. I didn't see the thing until it was almost too late. I braked, I downshifted, I turned to my right. I missed the deer, but not by much. In fact, I was practically alongside the fawn, before it ran off into the woods to my left. I couldn't help but wonder where it's mother was.
I thought about the hotel, but I've survived 30 hunting seasons, i think I'm ok. And it's over...Hunting season, I think, is only two weeks.
Meg, we used to gather the chickens up, too, during that time...and keep the horse in the barn. She was a gray appoloosa, so she didn't look deer like at all, but we weren't taking chances.
Gary, I'm so grateful you didn't hit her. *Thanks heaven) that would have been horrible. :(
Finished the main tree today.
Sunday, December 05, 2004We have three...we have a tiny one for the bay window, that I put my very small train set around (My father is into model train...he has a beautiful layout. For a time, I was into a smaller scale of trains, because 1) we had a set no one was using, from my grandfather, 2) I love small things...I have a dollhouse, too...3) it was companionable. And I like building things.) the tree, and we decorate the window. We then have, downstairs (where we don't really live anymore...) the tree I had in my apartment.
The main tree is the upstairs one...it's a very tall tree, made up of two smaller trees. It's sort of skinny, and until you get the branches covered, you can tell that they did, indeed, come from two different trees of vastly different ages. Tinsel, here, is your friend. I ended up finishing it by myself, as the 'rents went out to buy some groceries, (the stove had blown up -- the bake element began melting...and it didn't stop until we shut the breaker off.) and so they decided to have sandwiches tonight. (It should be an easy fix, if, heaven willing, we get a new element. I took the old one out easy.) So I had time to think, as I worked, about history. Christmas trees are sort of time capsules of family history. Some of them are very old, and are loosing their paint. Some were dropped and carefully glued back together, but you definitely tell, so it gets hidden in the back of the tree. Some are ugly, and some are very beautiful. I used to ask mum why she hung up some of the truly ugly ones her mum had bought, and she sort of shrugs and says, "Well, they're ours."
So my tree and its ornaments are very much symbolic of my family. It has things that are good and bad, shiny and dull, and we make do with what we have. And it's made up of more than just the three of us...people on both sides of the family have had, whether they know it or not, a say in what goes on the tree.
Permalink Cindy scribed this at 3:05 PM
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And so tis done...
Wednesday, December 01, 2004Today looked like it would be a right horror of a day.
Woke up after another one of those nights where the dreams are so terrible, that you can't help but be grateful you didn't wake up in the form of a giant cockroach, like poor Gregor Samson.
this morning my father went to get...no wait, I must start back father than that...
Here in Taxsylvania, we have something called seasonal registration, meaning you can register your car (and therefore only have to pay insurance for it and still be able to keep the license plate) for part of the year. We decided to put the truck back on the road, sent the money and such in as per instructions, and got our sticker and registration paper. When my father took it up to be inspected, we found out that the sticker and paper they sent us was only good for three days. That, in fact, the registration had run out before it actually got to our house. So we had to wait until they fixed that.
We finally got new papers, and decided that when the car went up, we'd take the truck back too and get our inspection stickers.
Now, this morning, my father took the car up, and they couldn't inspect it because of the yellow warning light ("service engine soon" was on. They turned it off, and said, "Now, you have to drive this car 40 miles without shutting it off to see if the light comes back on before we can inspect the car." And, the truck wouldn't start. And it was raining so I couldn't put the charger on.
So, we went for a drive.
There's a t intersection in this little town about 25 miles away from my house. There's a little bridge, and a stop light. We are parked on this bridge, two cars behind us, waiting for the light to change when a half a house on a trailer decides to turn onto the bridge.
We're a reasonable distance back form the light, but not *that* far. (The trailer was no where in sight when we stopped, either.) and there's no room to back up. And the bridge is not that wide.
So basically, we're parked there, trapped, and as I hold my breath there are two thoughts going through my mind:
ohshitohshitohshit
and
Oh please Lord don't let it hit us....
and as the house eeeks it's way a ball point pen cap's space past our front fender, it's obvious the prayer was louder than the cursing, because it managed, barely, to pass.
So, anyway, we went home. My parents dropped me off, I wrote, hooked the battery charger up to the truck, wrote some more, helped make dinner, wrote some more, finished the first draft of The Palace of Bone, spellchecked it and now...
Now I just need to do a bunch of book reviews, and everything will be peachy! :-)
Permalink Cindy scribed this at 7:09 PM
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g d townshende, at
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