Yule craftiness and such.

If you have a small person in your life (or a big person) who is absolutely nuts over fairies, pixies, and such, this is a dirt cheap and painfully simple gift that will just thrill them to no end.

Take a clean glass jar and some glow in the dark paint. Dab spots of glow in the dark paint randomly over the inside of the jar. Allow this to dry. Then take silver and/or gold metallic paint and do the same. Once all of this is dry, put about a teaspoon of glitter inside. Secure the top onto the jar. I used hot glue. Then shake your jar to distribute the glitter. Static forces the glitter to stick to the sides of the jar. Label the jar and add any ornamentation you want to the outside. I put a shooting star sticker on the top and my label reads 'Pixie Dust.'

That's it.

Something interesting & a little food politics

I follow some stuff about urban farming. I really feel that one of the keys to long standing success in the urban environment is going to be some measure of independence on the food supply. As such, I support things like planting fruit bearing groves of trees where it is possible. I am always in favor of gardening.

Then there is the really interesting stuff like this. The thought of having a direct grow to market situation in the heart of the urban sprawl strongly appeals to me. I worry, however, that it will become something terribly expensive and only available to the upper classes. It's not just the upper classes that need healthy food.

Just like math literacy is important and programs to encourage it need to be supported in the impoverished regions of the country (especially the city!) a program that encourages food independence and an urban friendly form of living off the land needs to be instituted. This isn't a matter of doing what is trendy. It is a matter of equality.

Yes, you read that right. I said it is a matter of equality. Access to clean and healthy food is increasingly becoming the 'right' of the upper classes of society. Problems like the obesity epidemic have been proven time and again to be the 'fruit' of the poor eating 'habits' associated with prepackaged and processed foods. It is also apparent that a larger percentage of the obese population is in the lower end of the economic spectrum.

Now, some people will breezily say that the solution to the problems can be found in 'changing their eating habits.' I argue that economic disparity and scarcity of those 'good for you' foods has more to do with the problem then someone's preferences. If you go into a store and the vast majority of the products available to you are boxed mixes of some sort, then you are going to wind up buying predominantly prepackaged and processed foods. If you go into a store and the fresh greenbeans are more expensive then the canned, and you only have enough money to get a small amount of food, you're going to go with the less expensive version because you can buy more of it for the same amount of money. This isn't because of laziness, it is simple economics.

Now, one may wonder why fresh food is so bloody expensive. The answer is fairly simple. Fresh food is perishable. It requires specialized equipment and techniques to maintain it at a fresh state and those techniques and equipment will only work for so long. After that, the food will rot. Getting food from the farm to the store isn't as simple as picking it out of the ground and lugging it in the same day. There is a process in place that requires transport, sometimes for considerable distances. (Avacados from California coming to New York, for example.)

Transport takes time. This time is going to lessen the length of time that fresh product is going to be on a shelf. Simple logistics at play here, there are only so many hours in a day. So, let's say it takes four days for your avacado to ripen. If you pick it on day one and transport it day two, you are left with two days to sell it. Now one of the tricky things about selling fresh produce is that people will assume that produce that 'looks bad' (not like it is just before or at peak ripeness) are bad food. In many cases, looks can be decieving.

Mavis Butterfield talks on her blog about food waste in this country (the USA). She has a lot of really good information there and is really one of my heroes when it comes to thrifty food management. That said, let's go back to that hypothetical avacado. Now, we've got a four day period of time that the avacado takes to ripen. We've used one day to pick the fruit and one day to transport it. By day four, your avacado looks over ripe and no longer is considered 'good'. This isn't saying that the hypothetical avacado is bad. It is no longer an attractive product.

Attractive products are what makes stores and agri-business money. This is why they wax apples (not just for freshness, though it helps some with that) and why there are different 'grades' of agricultural products. "A" grade or "Fancy" grade produce are the ones that look just like the advertisements. They are in no way 'better for you' then the lower grade produce 95% of the time. But once a product is no longer that attractive thing sitting on the shelf, it's sales drop off steeply because modern American consumers operate under the false assumption that if it doesn't look 'perfect' then there is something wrong with it.

While the "A" grade hypothetical avacado may be sitting in your grocery store in the produce aisle, the lower "B" grade ones were used to make that nifty little tub of gourmet guacamole. The even lower grade ones were used to make the cheaper little tub of guacamole. All three avacados have the same nutritional content and can be used in the same fashion. It's just the "A" grade ones look better.

So, how does this shorter shelf life impact the price of your avacado? It's again, a really simple thing. If you have a product that expires quickly, you can not get more sales by having a supply of them on hand that is big enough to sell for the full three days that the avacado takes to ripen. You need to have a refreshing supply of avacados that will maintain the image of 'perfect' produce. This keeps them attractive and the customers interested in purchase.

This makes the expense go up per avacado. No longer are you merely paying for the farmer to pluck it and the trucker to drive it to market. No longer are you merely paying for the store to keep it in the proper climate controlled environment to make it stay attractive. Now, you are also paying for the plethora of avacados that don't make the cut on the store sales floor. Stores need to dispose of the produce that is past the sale by date. Which costs money.

Unfortunately, most stores just throw this useable product away. Some folks, like Ms. Butterfield, will reclaim the produce and pick out that stuff that is useable. Other folks will 'dumpster dive', which is in many cases illegally doing the same that Ms. Butterfield does with the permission of the store.

Now, let's look for a moment at the whole difference between a big grocery store and a little corner mart (which is more prevalent in the urban setting). The first thing you can tell is that the big grocery store is going to have higher operating costs. You'd think that the big grocery store would be more profitable and have a better ratio of income versus expenses compared to that little corner mart by virtue of the fact that they carry more items and have the capacity to service more customers at a time. That they'd make their money on volume of service/sales versus quality of such.

I hate to tell you this, but proportionally speaking, you could argue that they're about the same at the outset. Then you start to factor in things like the costs of maintaining your produce department and your butcher's department. Suddenly, the big grocery store is facing down big costs that those little corner marts don't have. Partly because they don't have the space for those features, partly because they don't have the income to support them. The big grocery store is forced to set higher rates for equivalent items then the little corner mart to cover the cost of the additional expenses imposed by these other products.

The products with the limited shelf life turn into more expensive per pound then the boxed mix that will stay good on the shelf for a year. Why? Because each additional day of shelf life makes the product cheaper to put in the store. It makes the product cheaper to transport. When you put these cheaper, processed items in to the market and compare the price differences between the big grocery store and the little corner mart, suddenly that little corner mart becomes the most economical choice for shopping.

The other factor at play for people in impoverished urban areas is the fact that transportation of food supplies is difficult. If one were to take a bus to a grocery store and buy a week's worth of food, one would simply not be able to bring it all home. As such, you buy what you can carry. This measure of economic scarcity is relieved somewhat in the little corner store because it is closer to your home and you can purchase more food and bring more food into your home because the transportation cost and effort is less.

Thirdly, there is a great deal of ignorance about food, food waste, and healthful eating on a tight budget. The educational system is failing our nation in this respect. The days of the health class teaching people how to eat healthy and home economics classes teaching how to shop in a manner that you get the most for your dollar seem to have passed. Now, these things are brushed to the side as unimportant next to things like sexual education (in the case of health classes) or not taught at all (as some schools have dropped the home economics classes).

So, where does all of this leave us on the matter of food independence and such? I'll break it down to three points.

1. Financial difficulties and scarcity make it problematic to acquire healthful foods.
2. Ignorance about how to acquire healthful foods makes it difficult to do so.
3. A lack of public awareness of this problem increases the number of situations where this happens.

I grew up on a farm. I don't have much in common with folks in the city. Except that I live in an apartment now and money gets tight for us here in town. I was taught as a girl how important it is to have a food safety net. We have about two to three weeks worth of meals put by. Most people don't.

As Nihilspawn said in a conversation we had a little while back, most of this country is about 3 meals away from food riots. Think about that for a moment. It is a terrifying thought. Here's another terrifying thought for you. There are people in this country that are starving. Not the colloquial 'I skipped a meal and I'm really, really hungry' but literally starving right now. Most of them are in the urban centers. With all of that food waste that goes on in this country for the sake of keeping up appearances, we should be ashamed.

When children go to school and the free lunch that they qualify for is their only meal for the day, we should be ashamed. When parents forgo eating so that their children might have enough so that they can sleep with out hunger pains waking them in the night, we should be ashamed. When people are scorned for taking what measures they must in order to have enough to keep body and soul together, we should be ashamed.

I didn't go to bed hungry as a child. But my Mother did. I've been sneered at for using foodstamps when I was clean and dressed neatly. I have been scorned for the fact that I make meals that are not the latest in foodie fads because I can't afford the cost or the potential waste that will come from if that meal isn't eaten.

So, this guy's idea of making urban farming more prevalent, I am 110% behind it. Because I don't want my children to grow up and be left wondering how they were going to pay for their next meal.

I think I like this guy.

Passenger has been getting a lot of air play over in my neck of the woods. To be honest, if it wasn't for that, I wouldn't have heard of him before now because I tend to live under a proverbial rock. His song Let Her Go is exceptional. It has the feel of another group that I really enjoy - Fleetwood Mac.

That would be a collaboration that I would love to see, by the way.

Learning something new.

So, my kids drove me to the point where I was just this side of nonfunctional because of how stressed out they made me. Thank the gods that Hubby was home and he handled it. Because of how I am struggling to chill myself out, even with the wonders of modern medicine, I've decided to start another 'sanity' project.

Last time, it was a basic knit shawl. This time, I am going to make a granny ripple one. I think this is how I am going to use up that ball of scrap yarn from making those blankets this year.

Elf on a Shelf...

I see a lot of folks using this 'Elf on a Shelf' thing to persuade their kids to behave during the holiday season. Honestly, I am not that impressed with it. Blackmailing your kids just strikes me as distasteful. I've tried looking at it from the perspective of 'whatever works' but I just can't get behind it.

I realize that the holidays are hard for parents. Between the chaos of the kids getting excited and wound up at school, the stress of paying for the boat load of toys you're expected to buy, and the wonkiness of attempting to plan for all of those get togethers, I realize that parents have a rough time of it this time of year. Heck, I'm a parent and I have a hard time with it all too. You guys aren't alone.

At the same time, blackmail is just not the way to approach this. And that is truly what I think this 'elf on a shelf' thing is. The Free Dictionary defines blackmail as:

blackmail [ˈblækˌmeɪl]

n

1. (Law) the act of attempting to obtain money by intimidation, as by threats to disclose discreditable information

2. the exertion of pressure or threats, esp unfairly, in an attempt to influence someone's actions

vb (tr)

1. (Law) to exact or attempt to exact (money or anything of value) from (a person) by threats or intimidation; extort

2. to attempt to influence the actions of (a person), esp by unfair pressure or threats

I am using the term in the sense of the verb in the second definition. Is it really that fair to tell a child that if they don't behave that some omniscent little spy is going to deprive them of the holiday experience? That's a fast way to set a kid up with a complex that has them afraid that if they don't do EVERYTHING just the right way, then they are going to lose something big.

It's one thing to sit the kids down and tell them that no matter how excited, they still need to follow the house rules. And if they're too little for that conversation, just sticking with the household rules like normal is a good thing. Think for a moment, the holidays are stressful for you. You're an adult, you have a better grasp on how to handle stress. Now imagine that you're a little kid with out the tools or experience to understand the ups and downs of the holiday season.

Pretty scary thought, isn't it? Now throw into that mix the added pressures of having to use your best behavior all the time. On top of that, put the nebulous consequence of being punished for potentially the slightest misstep and losing out on something you may have been looking forward to all year. It's a rotten place to be.

That is why I just can't get behind the Elf on a Shelf thing.

Blargh.

I don't really have anything terribly interesting to contribute today. So, in lieu of actual writing, here's a picture of a puppy burrito.

Jive candy is actually pretty good.

Aldi's has this knock off version of Twix that they call Jive. At first, I didn't think they'd be that good. Then I was craving chocolate and sugar. Into the cart they went.

Fast forward approximately a month. Random sugar/chocolate craving hits and I discover that this is the only source of chocolate in the whole house, with the exception of baking chocolate. (While I love my chocolate, baking chocolate is disgusting by itself. No matter how desperate I am for chocolate, I will not touch that stuff with a ten foot pole if it's by itself. Did it once, NEVER again.)

So, I opened up a package and munched on some. Aside from the cookie bit being a touch stale (of which I can only blame myself on this one) they were surprisingly good. The chocolate was of an inferior quality, but on the whole it was pretty tasty. I must say, they were not too terribly bad of a choice for an impulse purchase.

(We won't discuss the mexican hot chocolate that I bought. I will only say this: Abuleita hot chocolate needs to say BIG FAT HUNKS OF CHOCOLATE YOU MELT on the package. Also, it should come with a warning, that the cinnamon turns into a slurry at the bottom of the pot and could possibly be used in place of mortar for construction. WORST CHOCOLATE FIX EVER!)

Final NaBloPoMo Post!

Well, I did it. It was in spurts and some of the posts were rather crappy, but I met my goal. I did NaBloPoMo and NaNoWriMo at the same time this year. Life got in the way of my writing a second manuscript this month, but since I have just baking cookies and wrapping presents left to do, I'll probably hammer out the third book in that series that I am writing next month.

Who knows, perhaps I will manage to write a book a month and get the whole damn series finished before my kids hit high school.

We'll see, I suppose.

adorable

http://www.foundshit.com/holding-hands-mitten/

Just too damn cute.

Yule Gift List

Completed:

• Blanket for Beloved
• Hat & Scarf for Moo
• Dolly and blankie for Sophia
• Lapghan for Erin
• Scarf for Katie
• Kitchen basket for Tim & Erin
• Poncho and Kindle cozy for Mercedes
• Pony and dolly for Lexie
• Shawl and scarf for Kendal
• Cowl for Gin
• Cowl for Angie
• Potpourii jar for Anne
• Scrapbook kit for Shaian
• Owl Necklace and box for Grandma
• Fingerless mitts for Bridget
• Crafting basket for J & J
• Bath basket for Karen

I just have to do the ornamentation on the towels for Mom and make up the cookies for Dad and my brothers. Maybe I'll whip off a batch of cookies for my father in law.

Thanksgiving

We went to dinner with my side of the family on Thanksgiving. It was good to see my niece. I just was left in shock at how grown up she is. It's hard to believe that the same little baby who played with blocks on my bed is now a striking young lady. Mom and her were cooking up a storm Wednesday.

My uncle Steve didn't make it up. I suspect that the winter storm that blew through Wednesday had a lot to do with that. My second cousin Eddie, however, did make it. He looks to be doing well, though it seems that Mr. Bean Pole has gotten even more skinny then he was the last time I saw him. Eddie, however, has always been on the skinny side.

Dad and my brothers seemed to be doing well. They were having themselves a good time chatting and laughing over the boys' antics. Beloved was an awesome wingman and was not only absolutely charming and chatted up my relatives but he also minded the kids for the most part. I lack the words to adequately express how much I appreciate him doing so.

On the whole, it went well. My poor Grandmother is sliding farther into dementia. I showed her the hat I made. It was difficult to talk with her about it. She kept getting confused about who it was for and who made it. When she had her lucid moments, she appreciated the effort and how I had incorporated the colors that Grandpa wore most of the time. Those lucid moments, however, were fleeting.

Things to be proud of

According to children. (In no real order.)

1. Bodily functions
2. Poop
3. Single handedly destroying boxes (bonus points if they had stuff in 'em)
4. Every new swear word you learn (must be repeated at full volume)
5. Making parent's say new swear words
6. How high you can jump on the couch/bed
7. Block towers
8. Destruction of block towers
9. Chaos that ensues from no. 7 & no. 8
10. Belches (bonus points for making them echo in a room that has none)

My LARPing career...

With the ending of Open Gaming at Baldy Hall at UB North, I think my LARPing career in the general public is going to come to an end. It has been fun. I have really enjoyed it.

At the same time, I feel really uncomfortable with some of what is going on with the LARP community that I have been a part of for the last decade (approximately). The tolerance of the same kind of bickering bitchiness that I dealt with in high school repulses me. I am finding that there are many people who seem to feel that it is better to be a terrible person to someone rather then sit down and attempt to resolve the problems that arise like an adult.

Add to this that there are many people who simply whine until they get their way and I am finding myself having a hard time justifying my role play gaming fix. Some good friends of mine still do tabletop role play games. I'm probably going to go back to doing that. If I can't, I am just going to have to attempt to live vicariously through my characters.

One of the reasons why I actually liked the fact that the events were being held on UB was because campus security was easily accessible. The times where there had been emergencies, responders were there in minutes. And UB campus security are not your sterotypical doughnut eating rent-a-cops. They are state police.

To be perfectly honest, I don't trust ninety percent of the LARP community. I will smile, be polite, and be civil. I will not, however, consent to being alone in a room with many of them. Because their behavior has left enough subject to question that I honestly don't believe I am safe alone in their presence. And there have been people within the LARP community who have actively attempted to physically or socially intimidate me into doing something they wanted.

I can accept that you may be socially awkward. I can accept that you may even put your foot in your mouth a few times and really insult people. I can even accept that you may be an obnoxious, self centered bastard.

I refuse to accept that I should be meek, compliant, and generally go along with whatever is in the situation because of two things:

1. I happen to be one of the few females in the room.
2. I may not know the game dynamics/system as well as you do.

I'm sorry, but those are not grounds to demand my compliance. And there is a LOT of misogyny within the LARP community. When the feminists are bitching about the problems with how people behave at gaming conventions, these are some of the people they are talking about. And some of these people go beyond being misogynistic morons and leave me questioning if I would be safe if I met them in a dark alley.

So, with the venues for LARPs shifting from the controlled and well policed location of UB to potentially someone's home or some other location where I have less resources to assistance, I am probably going to be forced to give up LARPing. And that makes me kinda sad.

It was a great outlet for a lot of my angst. It helped me tap into elements of my psyche that I generally work very hard not to even look at. In a lot of ways, I used it like a therapy tool and within the context of my characters, I worked through past trauma. (Nothing's more satisfying then killing your rapist in effigy time and time again in as many creative ways as you can get away with.)

I think I'm probably going to be using my artwork as my outlet for that stuff now. I have been feeling the urge to paint again. So, I am probably going to be doing a series of abstracts based on this stuff. Who knows, maybe I'll have something good come out of all this.

Some music playlists.

I have been using Youtube to put together play lists to listen to. One is full of music. When I say inspiring music, it is music that either makes me feel uplifted or serves to bring out a greater sense of genuine strength in myself. Another is focused on trance inducing music. It is helpful for meditation. There is a little bit of overlap between that playlist and my paganish one.

And then there is the playlist that I have been adding to as I encounter music that I feel pulls me towards writing in a given subject. Right now, I just have stuff for erotica and general writing. Mainly, the general writing stuff pulls towards fiction. At the same time, I have a hard time not envisioning myself writing massive theoretical works under the influence of Clint Mansell. He's a musical genius, I don't care how over played Lux Aeterna is.

To Pinterest or not?

I see a lot of folks using Pinterest. I must confess, I have found myself mightily tempted to attempt using it. The idea of collecting the stuff that I find interesting into one location sounds pretty cool. Then I look at my journals and my scrapbooks and mentally smack myself. I have a difficult enough time keeping up with my analog works.

You can tell that over the last month my efforts to keep up blogging here (and elsewhere) haven't been exactly successful. I don't think that Pinterest would be an entirely positive use of my time. I have lots of ideas but I question if Pinterest would really help me in organizing them. I envision Pinterest as being a source of a great deal of visual noise and even more of a time eater then Facebook.

At the same time, I see how other people have used Pinterest to organize and collect links to interesting things. I admit, that format is more attractive then the bookmarked links function on my browser. Some people have made really spectacular digital collages on Pinterest with their links and I have found that pretty nifty too. The artist in me looks at it and the ears perk up with interest. The prospect of conquering a new medium that is perhaps more forgiving then sculpture tickles me.

I suppose, upon consideration, I will just enjoy what other people do on Pinterest. After all, I can look at the pretty with out having to risk having my fledgling ideas fliched or feeling guilty for not updating it in a timely fashion. (By the way, I apologize to all four of you who are following this blog. I don't update half as often as I really should. After the holidays, I'm going to do my best to remedy that.)

The hat is done.

Technically, the hat is correctly made.

Size is gigantic, however. I don't think I'll be giving this to my grandmother. I may show it to her, but I'm going to make another one. Because this one really isn't fit to wear.

Maybe I'll rip it out and rework it. I don't know. I'm not decided yet on what I'm going to do with it. It looked so much smaller on the needles.

Tiny Home principles in an Apartment

I have to confess, I love the idea of a 'tiny home'. I see the glamorous photos of these beautiful little houses that people have built themselves or had built for them. I look at the wonderful interiors and I am instantly enchanted. I get the same kind of swooning desire that I do when I am looking at lush gardens and a cheerful and busy little room where everything is put neatly in its place. I look at all of that tidy order and the beautiful simplicity of it all and... well, I find myself having a visceral craving for it in my own life.

I look at how people have turned spaces that are smaller then my home into not merely habitable, but thriving homes. I am inspired (and a touch envious). I find myself gobsmacked at the people who have such homes with young children. It amazes me to see them keeping their homes so tidy.

I see things like what Joanna Goddard shared on her blog about how to make a small apartment work with two young kids. I then look around my home and go 'hrm, what do we have that we simply never use?'

This often leads to my doing things like purges of old books and toys the kids no longer play with. I will also go through my crafting stuff and purge things too. I try to pare back the non-essential and what we don't love. At the same time, I feel a bit guilty about excising the excess.

I tell myself that it's perfectly acceptable to give away things that you haven't touched in over a decade and don't even consider looking at. As long as they're not heirlooms or something that is important in some fashion, and Beloved is ok with it vanishing, it is ok to go. Even so, I have times where I am seized with paroxysms of guilt. I feel horrible 'throwing away' perfectly serviceable items.

I'm kinda rambling away from the point I was trying to make. Let me try to bring it back to where I was initially attempting to go. The things that make tiny homes work are all rooted in three points:

1. Simplicity
2. Utility
3. Love

You don't need gobs of clutter to make things work for you. If I have learned anything from FlyLady, it is that clutter works against you. Clutter is complicated. Having 47 different things to do three things, with all of those tools overlapping, is over complicating the matter. So, I try to pare down my proverbial 47 things down to 7. That's simplicity in action.

Having the right tools for the job is always essential. Having the right tools that can be multifunctional is just plain smart. I have in the boy's room an over the door shoe sorter. It holds their shoes. It also holds the little treasures that they like to collect. (When I can get them to put them away.) I have another shoe sorter up in the kitchen by the fridge. It doesn't hold shoes. It holds my various little kitchen gadgets, which frees up counter space (something that is at a premium in my place). I try to find as many ways to make something work as I can think of. Sometimes, it is a bit of a mental stretch.  After all, there are only so many ways you can use a can opener.

I am making a point of keeping out and available the things that we love and find important. It sometimes makes it a bit challenging because we have little things that could stand as mementos of places where we have been. I have to carefully consider, is the item something that I truly value. It's been entertaining, in an odd little way, to discover how many things that simply just don't have the value that I paid for.

As a result, the three principles have been working to make me more cautious about how I spend my money and my time. It's why we are done with Yule stuff NOW. And the total sum of money that has been spent upon gifts is a bit shy of $200. That's including the cost of yarn for all my knitting and crochet. That's easily $400 less then what the average person spends.

All of that money gets eaten up by stuff like the bills, but it is something that I am pretty pleased with. And I guess that's part of the reason why I am trying to put these principles into action.

Eczma.

It sounds and looks like the name of a villain from some cheezy K-pop movie or something. I have it, as do the boys. The doctor says that I shouldn't be too worried. He is confident that the boys will out grow it. I just loathe it.

Chronically dry, itchy skin is no fun. Now, I have developed red patches on my elbows and one is beginning to form in the middle of my back. It makes me rather dread when the weather gets really cold and dry. I have had the dry skin that cracks before. It is painful. I want to avoid it but I feel foolish asking Beloved to slather a quart of moisturizer over me.

Fortunately, he approaches it with a healthy sense of humor. It helps me feel a little less self conscious about it all. At the same time, I can't help but wonder if 'normal' people have to worry about such things. Heck, I wonder if 'normal' people regularly wear socks to bed to keep their feet warm.

Ah well, I keep telling myself that 'normal' is a setting on a dryer. I am trying to break the habit of judging myself versus what I see others doing. I just hope that my skin doesn't get really bad.

Weather's coming.

The wind is screaming around the corner of the house. It's blowing hard enough that I am getting a bit of a draft. The weather report today called for it to drop down cold enough tomorrow that it will snow. And on Sunday, it is supposed to be in the mid 20s for a high. I think we've officially hit the beginning of winter.

My knees are progressively feeling worse as the day has gone on. I'm thankful that I don't have a job that requires a lot of bending and such. Doubly so that I don't have a job that requires that I kneel for extended periods of time. I have a bad feeling that the next week is going to be murder on my arthritic knees.

I sit here listening to the wind howl and I wonder what it was like a mere 100 years ago when the weather got harsh. I'm guessing it was much more frigid. I am thankful that I have all the modern amenities like fiberglass insulation and such.

For my darling husband.

It's almost the end of the show.

I tried to find a video clip and failed. But, there is my nod to his Sifil and Ollie fixation. I still don't know why he has such a love for these sock puppets. I still don't like 'em. Every so often, I have to check if my tastes have changed on such things for the sake of domestic concord.

End verdict on this one:

Promoting awesomeness.

One of my Facebook friends has a cottage business making jewelery. I have a ring that she fashioned. I simply adore it. If you are looking for handmade, excellent, and exquisite jewelery, please take a minute to look her up.

Her work is excellently crafted. Her prices are amazing. And to top it all off, she's a really awesome person.

Her business is called Ivaldis Dream Trove. Here's the link to her FB page.

Benjamin Britten

Today is the day that composer Benjamin Britten would have turned one hundred. He's best known for his work The Young Person's Guide to the Orchestra. Almost every child with any classical music in their education will have heard that one.

The work of his that I feel stands out far beyond The Young Person's Guide is his War Requiem. I listened to it earlier today because WXXI was playing it this morning. I can not help but feel awed and shaken by this haunting eulogy. Honestly, it is made all the more haunting by the fact that it was written by an avowed pacifist. I was not aware of this fact until the DJ mentioned it.

The pathos in the music is utterly gut wrenching. It literally moved me to tears. There isn't much music out there that can do that to me.

pretty music post no. 2

Era il giornochi'al sol si scolararo per la pieta del suo
fattore i rai quando i' fui preso, et non me ne guardai,
che i be' vostr'occhi, Donna mi legaro.

Tempo non mi parea da far riparo contr' a colpi
d'Amor; pero m'andai secur, senza sospetto, onde I
mieie guai nel commune dolor s'incominciaro.

Trovommi Amor del tutto disarmato, et aperta la via
per gli occhi al core che di lagrime soon fatti uscio et varco.

Pero al mio parer non li
fu onore ferir me de saetta in quello stato,
a voi armata non mostrar pur l'arco.


(English)

It was the day when the sun's rays turned pale with grief
for his Maker when I was taken, and I did not defend myself
against it, for your lovely eyes, Lady, bound me.

It did not seem to me a time for being on guard against Love's
blows; therefore I went confident and without fear, and so my
misfortunes began in the midst of the universal woe.

Love found me altogether disarmed, and the way open through
my eyes to my hear, my eyes which are now the portal and
passageway of tears.

Therefore, as it seems to me, it got him no honor to strike me
with an arrow in that state, and not even to show his bow to you,
who were armed.

Ramblings.

I am taking comfort in the fact that my NaBloPoMo posts do not need 'good' content. They just need done. As such, I can blather about pretty much anything. I am making myself post at least a paragraph, avoiding the cheezy 1 word posts. Well, four sentences makes a paragraph, so I'll slap up another one in a few minutes. I promise, it'll be something better then this one.

Pretty music post.

Io Isabella danzando ne prati
Verdi della primavera
Girando e girando, cascando e cascando
Nel mondo delle elfi sognando
Mi prendono la mano, mi portano lontano
Mi prendono la mano, mi portano lontano

Elbows deep in yarn...

I am working on the last of the Yule gifts for this year. Part of what I'm doing is adding more to Beloved's big afghan. My mourning hat is coming along nicely. I am going to be crocheting up some mittens for one of my nieces soon. I should slap up some pics of what I'm working on. Perhaps tomorrow after I finish running my errands and such.

The Mourning Hat.

The day my paternal grandfather died, I decided that I was going to honor him by learning something new. I took out my double pointed knitting needles and a ball of brown yarn that was pretty close in shade to what he wore often. I decided that I was going to make a hat and do so in the colors that I associate with my grandfather.

I wasn't entirely sure where to begin. I knew that I wanted to knit something for my grandmother. As trite as it seemed, I wanted to somehow give my grandmother something of my grandfather that would keep her warm and comfortable, much like his hugs had always done for me. I picked knitting because of how many, many memories I have of my grandmother knitting for myself, my brothers, and my cousins. Alzheimers is stealing things away from her, but perhaps this little knitted hat would help retain something for her.

I found a video on About.com that gave terribly simple directions. I sat down with my needles and watched the video three times. A simple i-cord didn't look to terribly intimidating. I told myself that if I could do the i-cord, I could do the rest of the hat. Evening the day my grandfather died, I had reached the point where I was alternating between knitting 5 stitches with an increase every 6th stitch and knitting all stitches.

The day of the memorial service, I thought about bringing the yarn and knitting needles with me. My sons had decided that my hat in the beginning was a spider and insisted on trying to play with it. Torn between the desire to make my 'spider' bigger and the realization that my teary eyes would have difficulty seeing the stitches, I went with my default anxiety project (a crochet granny square). I struggled that day with a great many things.

The part of the day that was the hardest, however, was the sight of my grandfather in that box. I couldn't bring myself to walk up to the box. I looked at his corpse from a distance and I just couldn't shake the feeling that they messed up the makeup. I realized that they were trying to make him look relatively lifelike, as to reduce the distress of the other mourners. All they accomplished, it seemed, was to make his body look like a wax caricature of the man I had seen just a few weeks before hand.

When I got home, I put the hat away. Working on it was upsetting. I struggled with how to explain to my boys that Grandpa-Grandpa wasn't going to be at his house anymore. Strangely, it was I who had the hard time grasping that when we went and visited. I found myself listening for him in the office and looking for him at the dining room table. After we got home from that visit, I got the hat out again.

I've been working on it as we slog forward into the holidays. It is beginning to look like a real hat now. The brown yarn ran out, so I used some dark blue. Because I think of the caps that he wore and how most of them were some variant of dark blue. I also have some safety orange in there. His hooded jacket, with the stains from grease and dirt from working on farm equipment, is that color. I'm going to put in a section of a harvest gold color because one of the sweater vests he wore most frequently is that color.

It isn't much. I'm not entirely sure that Grandma will recall the meaning behind the hat. That's ok, though. I'm making it as much for myself as I am making it for her.

I have a sense of humor, I promise.

So, I'm just going to say it right away this way no one can cry foul here. I have a sense of humor. I even joke and will laugh at jokes pertaining to sex and sexuality. Some of my absolute favorite jokes are terrible examples of the genre regarding sex.

All of that said, I keep seeing this ad from Kmart that just makes me plain mad. Honestly, I lack the words to adequately express how repulsed I am by this advertisement. First, however, let me present exhibit A, also known as the offending article.

Now, some of you may ask why I (a woman who falls more to the hetero-side of the bisexual ledger and one who writes smut for fun and profit) find this ad offensive. Some of you may even wonder at the fact that I am opposed to it, because it's quite obviously turning the tables on the laundry list of ads focusing on women as sex objects.

I can summarize my offense in one simple sentence. Hold on to your hats, folks, this is going to be profound.

Reducing people to sex objects to sell a product is wrong.

Look, if your kink is such that being defined as a sex object or defining another person as a sex object is what really does it for you, that's well and fine. Provided that all people involved in the arrangement are consenting adults. Doing so with a random person off the street, that crosses a line.

It is a blatant act of disrespect to that person to reduce them down to being little more then fap material. It's wrong when it's done to advertise a bra. It's wrong when it's done to advertise beer. It's wrong when it's done to advertise clothes. It's wrong to advertise any damn thing you are trying to sell.

I know, I am being a Debbie Downer here, but I honestly can't sit here on my hands and be silent. People look around at our culture and wonder where this 'rape culture' stuff comes from. It comes from stuff like this being tolerated as funny for general consumption. The problem lies in the attitude that a person is little more then a lump of flesh that exists to titillate and amuse you. That attitude and sense of entitlement that goes with it, that is what is at the core of the 'rape culture' that people are talking about.

Stop treating people like they're objects. You want to fix the culture so that a woman can be safe no matter where she is, that's a great place to start. By the way, it makes it so that it's ok to treat men with respect too.

And that is what we need more of. Respect starts with treating yourself like you're not an object, by the way. It also comes along when we treat other people as if they're human as well. Last time I checked, personhood was understood to have some sense of inherent dignity. Or did we throw that out the window along with Miley Cyrus's alter ego of Hanna Montana?

blargh

I am trying to get my plot to move one way and it decides to go in an entirely different direction. I just want to finish this thing up, not make it incredibly HUGE.

for my husband.

My beloved husband. The fan of dead baby jokes...

Here's your sign:

WOO!

I'm within striking distance of 50K words for the total project. My total for NaNoWriMo is 46K. I am most pleased with this. I am surprised by how much food has played a role in this story. Every time I turn around, I'm discussing food. It is entirely unintentional. On a related note, I am finding that my recollection of medieval cookery is rusty and Google is my friend.

NaNoWriMo woes.

So, I am just a few hundred words shy of breaking the 30K barrier for the total project word count. I feel like the last several THOUSAND words were just crap. I tell myself that December is for editing but I just have had difficulty getting into this. I am a maniac but I have caught myself thinking if I finish this one, perhaps I will write a second, MORE FUN manuscript this year.

I love writing fantasy. Don't get me wrong. But this one... ugh! I feel like my plot is made out of lead. I recognize that world building and context setting is important. At the same time, this feels like it is sucking the life right out of me. Ah well, 20K more words and I can write SOMETHING ELSE!

Ugh.

I feel as though my head is stuffed with wool. I have a cold, that I am fairly sure I caught from the boys. Snuggle Bug was having some difficulty with coughing a lot last night. I think if he didn't do any better today or if he wakes me up in the middle of the night, I will keep him home from preschool tomorrow. I am fairly close to 25K words for my total word count. My target is to have approximately 60K words in the manuscript as a whole.

My total for NaNoWriMo is just a shade over 10K. Not too bad. I am still fairly consistent with my production. Even with a morning nap, because I felt wretched, I come in at approximately 2300 words for the day. I am going to do more writing this evening after the kids go to bed. I am anticipating my afternoon to be filled with washing dishes and listening to the boys as they quibble over what to watch on the computer. I just don't feel up to arguing with them over if they watch videos or not today.

Harry Potter themed stuff.

So, in exchange for a totally awesome scarf, I made a Harry Potter themed scarf for a friend of mine. My inspiration didn't stop there. I made a hat to match the scarf and then I crafted a wand. I'm not entirely sure what to do with the wand. But I am thinking about throwing it into the box with the hat and scarf as a surprise gift.

I also whipped off a little bookmark. I am thinking about keeping that for myself because it isn't as nice as these things.

Gratitude.

There's this 'thankfulness' meme that is going around. The scheme is to give one thing you are thankful for each day of the month. I am a few days behind, but I am going to jump on to this bandwagon. Gratitude is a huge part of what makes it easier for me to spot the good in my life. I even keep a gratitude journal.

1. I am thankful for my devoted husband.
2. I am thankful for my children.
3. I am thankful for an extra hour for writing last weekend.
4. I am thankful for this blog.

NaNoWriMo & NaBloPoMo

So, I'm doing NaNoWriMo this year. And I figure since I'm a masochist, I might as well do NaBloPoMo at the same time. Currently, my NaNo word count is 2719. I'm not really feeling it for the scenes that I have written thus far. I want to move the plot along to more interesting details but I keep getting bogged down in other stuff.

I have finally reached the point where we're going to begin seeing the monstrosity of the villains. I am hoping that the psychological horror factor is well presented. I am confident that the gore factor will be easily accomplished. The part that I am going to find challenging to write about all of this is the over arching story elements of the war between the deities.

Years ago, when I was a kid, I read a series of fantasy books that set up everything where the conflict of the storyline was a game between gods. I liked that idea. Then I thought about the whole 'good vs evil' concept and said to myself, "Why not make it a long standing thing that goes through cycles?" I'm still hashing that aspect of it all out. I already know that the good guys are going to win.

I am going to make some of those victories Pyrrhic, because I want this story to have more realism to it then what I've seen in other fantasy stories.

Slogging away at it all.

Well, I have reached the point where I no longer feel like a walking plague victim. I have gotten a bunch of writing done today. I planted some tulip bulbs and cleaned up some of my container gardening efforts. It was a weird feeling to have to dig down through a layer of ice hardened soil to plant the bulbs. I'm hopeful that it is not too late into the season and that I put my bulbs down deep enough into the soil so that they will last until spring.

I have some other stuff that I was going to plant beside the building but now I'm not so sure about that idea. I know that the boys are going to want to play outside when they get home from school. I may gird my proverbial loins and brave pulling some weeds out of the flowerbed I attempted to make this year. Maybe I can get down to actual soil. If I can accomplish that, I will put a few more tulip bulbs out there.

My kitchen is a disaster area right now. I am not upset over that, however. This is a marked difference from what I usually feel when it gets like this. (I am more then a little bit certain that the adjustment in medication is helping on that front.) Dinner tonight is going to be a terribly straight forward affair. I am making pasta bake tonight with lots of pepperoni in it. I am also going to get stuff together to start some sourdough.

I have decided that with the cooler weather, I really should be baking more. As such, I really like the idea of homemade sourdough bread. The thought of the whole place smelling like fresh baked bread as I am enjoying myself writing, it has such romaticism to it that my little heart goes pitter-patter. I am currently deciding just what exactly I am going to make when I do cookies this year. I figure since I have gotten 95% of my yule list done, I can take the time to get some planning for the cookies.

I'm not going to make a huge assortment of cookies this year. I think I'm just going to do a few. I know that a lot of people will want to do tons of stuff because they feel obligated. I am going to buck that trend. I will be making cookies for a select few. Not because I don't like making cookies but because not everybody in the world needs to have some of my chocolate chip cookies. And, honestly, after baking the fifth batch, it gets boring.

Crochet project list.

So, I've decided that it's that time of year to make hats. I found an awesome site with vintage hat patterns that I am going to use. I want to make a few snoods, a fascinator or two, and something fancy.

Snoods:

Fish Net Snood

Petal Snood

Fascinators:

Number One

Number Two

Possible Fancy hat

I'm sick.

Some kind of stomach bug is going around and it seems that I have caught it. I feel miserable and can barely string together a few thoughts at a time. I hate it when I feel so utterly exhausted.

Random fiction.

She had drilled them mercilessly. Some had given up on the service they had volunteered for. Hilde let them leave with out any shame attached to their name, stating that some were simply not meant to engage in warfare. For each person who had left, however, two came forward to try themselves in her service. Where others would have balked at putting live weapons in the hands of untried recruits, the Virdis Sargent had no such compunctions.

They were taught how to handle more then their hunting rifles and shot guns. Pistols, hand weapons, and hunting bows were added to their repertoire. Along with this, they were taught the basics of field medicine. Hilde and Gunther had made themselves the subjects upon which the farmers turned warriors were taught how to set broken bones and handle severe injuries. The Avalonians bore their wounds patiently, at times making themselves the target for the exercises that resulted in said injuries.

It was at this bloody work that Hilde's Boys found themselves bonding in a grim camaraderie with the soldiers who had come back from the wars abroad with no where to turn but the generous Avalonians. Hilde's pronouncement upon taking on the veterans was simple: everybody works, everybody eats.  Soon, Hilde and Gunther's hall was filled with people of every background. They were united by two things. The first was that they had all come searching for a second chance and that they had found it.

The loyalty of what some had referred to as Hilde's 'foundlings' was unshakeable. Where they had insecurity and lived on the margins of society before, these 'foundlings' found themselves embraced and steadied by the community that Hilde had created on her expansive farm. Some left once they had gotten their feet under themselves and established enough ground to go and build their lives away from the rookery that had launched them into flight. It was from those who stayed that Hilde's Boys had drawn their ranks.

Some were of the opinion that Avalon should take a hands-off approach to the people of the world, only intervening where needed. Others were of the opinion that Avalon should directly intervene as Hilde had done. While Hilde's Boys were divided as to if they would pledge loyalty to Avalon, there was no division if they were to pledge loyalty to Hilde and Gunther.

They had made for themselves a pennant. The stylized horse that had been part of the logo for Hilde's farm was set upon a green field. Unintentionally, Hilde's Boys had recreated the banner that Hilde had crafted and then abandoned for the Wild Hunt.

Government shut down thoughts.

So, I have been following the matters of the government shut down here in the USA with some interest. There has been several crazy memes flying around on Facebook. I won't dignify them with reposting but I can summarize them pretty quickly.

1. It is a vast plot to overthrow the government.
2. It is because of some sort of conspiracy to defraud the people.
3. It is because President Obama is ... [fill in racial/politically oriented slur]

Now, some people, like the local media big shot Bob Lonsberry have been very 'hey the government shut down is a good thing!' and they treat the whole affair like it is some kind of joke. I think his position on it all can be summarized really well with one statement he made about this business. "All people M-16 qualified are essential [government] personnel." Some people are deeply troubled by it all and have expressed their distress over the fact that important programs are not getting funding.

I think it's reckless of people like Mr. Lonsberry to make this thing out to be a joke. After the first day or two, it stopped being funny. We're at the beginning of the third week. I thought that somebody was going to blink last week. I was wrong. I'm now hoping that my Anam Cara was not prophetic about this not being resolved by the 17th.

I know that this mess is getting taken seriously when I see people on food stamps doing what they can to stock up for possibly going without food for a period of time. When I was in Wegmans today, I was in line behind two men who were pooling their resources (I had heard them discussing how to divide their respective purchases between themselves) to buy big packages of meat. At first, I didn't think much of it. Then I happened to overhear the discussion as to if they had enough funds left on their EBT cards to pick up vegetables.

One man had a minor panic over the cost of the package of meat he was getting until the cashier explained to him the effect of his Wegmans' card on the purchase. Some people may just scoff at these two men. Some people may say that they're some how bottom feeders and that they deserve to have their funds cut off. (I'm looking at you, Mr. Lonsberry.) It's hard for me to believe that attitude. These men looked like people who worked hard everyday. I could tell that they do some sort of manual labor. I think they were probably farmhands judging by the fact that one of them was wearing a John Deere hat and neither of them seemed to have roofing tar on them.

You see, programs like food stamps don't go strictly to the 'welfare queens' that people like Mr. Lonsberry like to crow about and insist are a blight against society. They also help out people like poor working folks who are having a hard time making enough money to feed themselves. They help out people who are disabled and can't work due to the severity of their disability. This government shut down is going to hurt a lot of people if it goes on much longer.

It's not just the 'superfluous' government workers that are losing money here. I would also go so far as to argue that these jobs are not 'superfluous'. If they were, then they wouldn't exist. Somebody needs to cut the grass at the national parks. Somebody needs to clean the bathrooms at the Smithsonian. Somebody needs to make sure that tax fraud is getting handled. Somebody needs to run the printing presses at the mint.

And each of these people who are not working right now, they're not able to put money into the economy. People want to crow about how much money is getting 'saved' by these 'non-essential' government workers not being at work. What about how much money is not going into the economy on this basis? The government shut down is not a good thing.

I don't know if this is the beginning of an ugly chapter in the history of the US. I just know that my gut is telling me that the winds are shifting and not in a good way. So, I do what I can to prepare for possible problems and hope that this doesn't turn into a disaster.

Hrm..

So, in the course of my grocery shopping this week, I picked up a bottle of Nature's Nectar Sparkling Spiced Pumpkin Cider. At $2.00 a bottle, it wasn't a budget killing purchase. I had been drinking a great deal of cider over the last few days (purchasing a gallon last week was a tasty decision) and the idea of something that was a little bit different but still cider sounded good to me. After putting most of the groceries away, I worked up a powerful thirst and I decided to crack this stuff open and give it a try.

I was expecting something like mulled cider with a suggestion of pumpkin. What I got was like ginger ale with a pumpkin-apple pie after taste. Honestly, I was of a mixed mind about the stuff. I don't think it was terrible but I feel that it was a dirty trick to play on cider lovers. I am not adverse to getting another bottle of the stuff (as there was not very much in that bottle).

Last week, I did my grocery shopping at Walmart. My total bill came in a whopping $250 dollars. The week before that, I did my shopping at Wegmans. My bill was about $200 dollars, though I bought a bit less stuff. This week, I purchased most of my groceries at Aldi's (getting the veggies, milk, and pull ups for Snugglebug at Wegmans) and my bill was $100. The total of the other stuff at Wegmans was $50. By going to two stores, I saved $100 off my grocery bill.

I think  the end result of this little experiment is that I'm going to continue my shopping at Aldi's. I have been busy restocking my pantry for possible disaster. As we are coming up on the beginning of the season of hard weather, I wanted to put by enough food where if we are unable to get out to the store I have provisions for at least a week. So far, I have the makings of several different kinds of bean soups and a fair amount of pasta put up.

I picked up a couple of canned hams and when I get groceries next week, I think I'm going to pick up some more canned meat. I figure any housewife with my upbringing that is worth their salt should be able to take canned meat and turn it into something reasonably palatable. Worst case scenario, I have cookbooks of three generations to reference here. There has to be something in there to make Spam into something worth eating.

So done with today.

It has been a really long day. I got a lot of stuff done, even though I feel like you can't really tell. I'm completely worn out but I made it through the day with out succumbing to the temptation of taking a nap. Perhaps I can manage this tomorrow as well. Worst case scenario, I'll power up on coffee. After all, caffeine is my friend, right?

Random thoughts.

This blog post a day thing just isn't working out right now. It makes me dread next month a bit. I suppose I have some good reasons for not posting everyday. Things like a wedding and not having the time to post this weekend are logical reasons. I am working to be forgiving of myself, though it feels counter intuitive.

I had some odd dreams this morning when I took my nap. I dreamed that I was back at college. All of the anxieties of living in a strange place, surrounded by unfamiliar people, and of being truly on my own for the first time came roaring back in that dream. I think I owe Njord's Darling something of an apology. Intellectually, I recalled this difficulty but the reality of it was blurred by the past. I think I painted too easy of a picture of how one makes friends in a new environment, I fear.

And then there is the awkward feeling/push to mend fences with A. I look at it all and I honestly feel a mixed sense of mortification, frustration, and something that I can't exactly define. I'm realizing that my friendship with A. was a casualty of the depressive episode that I was in this summer. I am also realizing that it was a measure of cowardice that I didn't say something to A. about what was troubling me.

I'm inwardly flailing over how to approach the whole thing. A part of me says I should hold my silence because it just was a terrible thing that I did and that there is no good reason to expect that she would be willing to deal with me again. On the whole, I haven't any idea how to proceed. I'm stuck in this place where I am wavering between doing something and not. It's awful.

The news today.

So, a guy lit himself on fire in DC today. A woman got shot after a weird car chase in DC yesterday. A tropical storm is bearing down on the northern coast of the gulf as people are trying to get FEMA funded at the last minute. And, let us not forget, the govenor of Pennsylvania declared that being gay is like incest.

What in Hel's name is wrong with people today? In other news, somebody was clever at the National Weather Service in Alaska. Well played, guys, well played.

Another day...

I have decided that I need to start work on getting ready for NaNoWriMo. I was on the fence as to what project I should work on. Then one of my friends nudged me in the direction of writing the second book in the fantasy series. On paper, I'm a third of the way through the outline of the first part of the story. I may have to revise my count of how many books this is going to make. >.<

News!

It is with great joy that I announce that my first novel is available for purchase. This has been over a decade in the making. This is the first book in a series. If you are curious about the series, a bit of the back story is up in my other blog. I will be adding new material to that a touch later this week.

The story about the novel is kind of interesting. When I was a young girl, I told my great grandmother that I was going to write her a book. I then became a touch obsessed with everything relating to being a writer. Time passed and my great grandmother did as well. Where this would have crushed some people's motivation, I just dug my heels in and became yet more determined.

I was a quiet child. I found the greatest comfort in the works of fantasy and I dreamed about being a princess. Unlike other girls, however, the princess in my dreams was not waiting for some hero to come rescue her. No, my princess was a hero in her own right. I read the myths of my ancestors and the works of some of the most brilliant minds that ever wrote fiction. Even as I dreamed, I studied my craft.

I had some aptitude for writing when I was in school. After reading the Lord of the Rings and the Simarillion in seventh grade, I decided that I had to write down the story that was living within me. My very first attempt was a four page long story. Even then, I called it my book. I will never forget the day I finished my very first draft. I brought it to my Grandmother, the daughter of the great grandmother (who was an author, like her mother) and nearly burst with pride as she read it.

She then looked at me over the tops of her glasses and said, "But where's the rest of the story?"

Over the course of time between seventh grade and when I graduated high school, I worked relentlessly on that story. By the time I had something novel length, I had decided that this was my profession. I went off to college and even as I found myself pulled in different directions, my writing continued to be my pole star. It was somewhere after the first semester of my freshman year that tragedy happened.

The manuscript that I held as my life line through high school was lost. The file it was on was corrupted and I had one paragraph left. So, I did what I felt that any other author worth their salt would do. I picked up my pen and I set to work. Over the course of the next year, I wrote my second version of the manuscript. I decided that I was going to edit it and attempt the arduous process of publication.

I was half way through editing it when I lost the second version. Life got in the way of writing for a while. I poured my story out into journal entries and random short pieces where I could find the time to write. Little did I realize that I was building a world. Six years later, I wrote the third version of the story. I was smart and I made a hard copy. While the failures of technology consumed the digital copy, I had my book in hand.

I laboriously worked on editing that manuscript. As I worked, I found that my little story wasn't as simple as those first four pages. So, rather then trying to force it all into one text, I built an outline of the story. That was when I realized with more then a little bit of shock that my little four page story was actually a series of twelve books. Then I sat down and I wrote the outline for the story that came before and after my little four page story. To say the least, I have a great deal of work ahead of me.

I stumbled into National Novel Writing Month about seven years ago. My beloved late friend Liz, who had read my earlier versions of what I had called 'the novel' pointed me in that direction. I wrote the fourth version of the manuscript that year. I put it into a proverbial drawer and forgot about it as my life became focused on the challenges of motherhood. In 2009, I blew the dust off of the manuscript and sat down with it again.

I wrote the fifth version of my manuscript over the course of the month of November. When I finished it, Liz was one of the first people to read it. She declared that I needed to stop sitting on the story and get it published. It wasn't long after then that Liz died. I was crushed and for a time gave up on my dream. Trouble came to visit my family and I found myself desperate for solace.

Rather then re-write my manuscript for a sixth time, I wrote something entirely different. (That book is in the midst of editing right now.) When I found myself with a regained sense of equilibrium, I returned to 'the novel' and went through it with great care. Last year, my Grandfather was diagnosed with terminal brain cancer. It became apparent to me that time was drawing short for me to do what I had decided.

I worked with a measure of frantic effort and more then a little escapism. Having my alter ego battling forces of evil, where triumph was assured, was easier for me then dealing with the fact that my Grandfather was dying. And when I had asked him what I could do to be of any help, he explicitly told me to continue with my writing. So, I threw myself into it with abandon.

In April of this year, I published my first work. It is a little prayer book that I dedicated to my grandparents. While I wasn't able to put a copy of the book into his hands, my Grandfather knew before he died that I was a published author. In September, I published my second work, a horror novella that was my solace in the last months of my Grandfather's illness. He died before it was finished. I dedicated it to him. And now, I have this work to share. When the holidays come, I'll be giving my Grandmother a copy of each of these books.

It doesn't matter to me that I did this through a 'vanity press'. All that matters is that I have done what I said I was going to do. Now, if after reading this story of mine you would like to purchase any of my books, please do so. If you would like a signed copy, you will have to wait a few months.

The Dragon's Daughter (e-book, paperback, and hard cover) is my fantasy novel, or as I have called it 'the novel.' The Red Chair (e-book and paperback) is the horror novella. Rose Petals (e-book and paperback) is the prayer book and the first book I ever published.

Oct. NaBloPoMo #1

Just a short entry today. The way I see it, if I manage to even get a sentence done, it counts as a post. I have a lot to be thankful for right now. I am striving to focus on that rather then the fears that I am not good enough and such. I am also working on not letting my social phobia control me.

As such, I am pushing past my comfort zone and making a point of going out and being social today. I am also making a point of being 'available' to do readings. Last month, my illnesses ran the show a lot. It had the unfortunate side effect of my 'missing time' and several bills getting paid late. My goal for this month is to avoid this happening again.

In other news, I have a few works published as of last month. This week, I'll be putting out my first novel via Lulu. I am as jumpy as a cat in a rocking chair factory, but I am doing my best to quell my nerves and make this happen anyways. I have over a decade worth of work into this stuff. It's long past time I got serious and published any of it.

Here's the links to the stuff I do have published right now.

The Red Chair - paperback $7.00  e-book $1.50

Rose Petals - paperback $9.00   e-book $2.99

Deleted a blog, anticipating challenges on the book, and editing woes.

I have deleted one of my fiction blogs. The story of Angel versus Xenogen will be coming back but as an e-book. The science fiction story is a bit convoluted but I anticipate that it should come together and be finished by February. I have most of the story line plotted out. It is just a matter of writing up the sentences based off of the bullet points.

I am going to probably still write it in small chunks. The holidays are going to be blisteringly busy and writing time is going to be at a premium. It is also going to take a little bit of work to 'shift gears' from fantasy to science fiction. I have my little notebook of ideas and some of the earliest stuff that I wrote relating to this story kicking around. I'll be dragging it out after a little while.

Right now, I'm just trying to focus on the various projects I have kicking around and organizing my workload. I am a bit stumped on how to clean up some of the enormous manuscript of the fetish novel. There are elements that I am pretty sure that I need to re-envision but the original work just is all that comes to mind.

I feel like editing for grammar is the easy part. This editing for content business, however, is utterly maddening. I have also noticed that my consumption of tea has increased dramatically. I am now consuming it by the pot rather then by the cup. Thank goodness my cupboard is well stocked.

Joke found on the interwebz

One day, a man is walking along the beach and comes across an odd-looking bottle. Not being one to ignore tradition, he rubs it and, much to his surprise, a genie actually appears. "For releasing me from the bottle, I will grant you three wishes," says the genie.

The man is ecstatic. "But there's a catch," the genie continues. "What catch?" asks the man, eyeing the genie suspiciously. The genie replies, "For each of your wishes, every lawyer in the world will receive DOUBLE what you ask for." "Hey, I can live with that! No problem!" replies the elated man.

"What is your first wish?" asks the genie. "Well, I've always wanted a Ferrari!" POOF! A Ferrari appears in front of the man. "Now, every lawyer in the world has been given TWO Ferraris," says the genie. "What is your next wish?" "I could really use a million dollars," replies the man, and POOF! One million dollars appears at his feet. "Now every lawyer in the world is TWO million dollars richer," the genie reminds the man. "Well, that's OK, as long as I've got MY million," replies the man.

"And what is your final wish?" asks the genie. The man thinks long and hard, and finally says, "Well, you know, I've always wanted to donate a kidney."

Credit to Bob G.

Fiber fest and other stuff.

So, last weekend I went with my mother in law to Fiber Fest over in Hemlock. It rained all day but I think it did me a bit of good. The rain kept the crowds down to a minimum. I spent most of my time wandering around and avoiding crowded areas. I think the touch of sinus issues that I have right now is a combination of allergies and the lingering effects of that jaunt.

I dropped some coin into spinning supplies. I picked up two new spindles. One is a little 4 ounce supported spindle. The other is a small sized bottom whorl spindle with a lovely clay whorl with celtic knots inscribed onto it. I picked up some fiber too, because you can't buy spindles with out getting something to spin, right? I also bought a set of US size 2 double pointed knitting needles. I realized that I needed a set to make that pair of socks I wanted and I couldn't pass by getting the set for $1.00.

I had a lovely time admiring the horses that were drawing the wagon around the festival and the fiber producing livestock that folks had brought with them. This year, there was only one llama. It was an indifferent beast, seemingly ignoring his handlers with the same aplomb as he ignored his admirers. I was impressed with the Icelandic sheep that I got to pet.

It was the yearling ram who headbutted my hand for more pets that I really enjoyed. I'm familiar with cats and dogs doing this. I never expected a sheep to do that. I was sorely tempted to buy some of the fiber that came from that black coated ram but the price was just outside of my budget, so I contended myself with pets. The owners were amused with how charmed I was by their rams. I think it was the fact that I talked to him, where as others just stared or patted the nose once or twice, that amused them the most.

I did what I usually did when I encountered an animal, I talked to them. As such, the horses, sheep, and rabbits all got a bit of attention and babble directed at them. Most people just looked at me funny. Not even the kids there were willing to talk to the animals. I found that kinda curious. I don't know, maybe I am the weird one. *shrugs* I'm not going to try to figure it out.

I have been really busy over the last several days. I am working on prepping two manuscripts for publication via Lulu. Last week, I sent out the second version of my prayer book. I published it as an e-book and a paperback. I hope to have stuff sorted out so that I can get my other works up on Lulu soon. I'm at something of a loss for how to market it, but I'll figure that out after I get stuff up there.

Open Letter to a Troll

Dear Troll 'John Oputa':

Your attempts to troll are amusingly pathetic. At some point in time, I highly suggest that you pick up a copy of Strunk and White's Elements of Style, a thesaurus, and the AP Style manual. Those three items will assist you dramatically.

Please, allow me to expound upon the reason why you are in need of these three books. You wrote:

Dear Miskell,Your earliest response would be appreciated on the regards.

I am Mr John Oputa, a legal practitioner in Togo Republic West Africa

and personal attorney to Engineer A.Miskell, a deceased client of mine

who died in a car accident along Kara express Road On the 21st of

April 2008, with, his wife and their only daughter.

I have contacted you to assist in the distribution of the funds left

valued at US$8.5 million.

For more explanations please reply to my private email johnoputa55@gmail.com

Yours faithfully

John Oputa.

Line one of your missive is a glaring error. The greeting of a letter is to be presented upon its own line. Additionally, your sentence is passive. If you are in the business of exhorting people to do things, you must use more active voice. As such, consider rephrasing the sentence thusly:

I would appreciate your earliest response on the matter.

Line two of your letter is simply atrocious. Mr. Oputa, if you are truly an educated man who is versed in English as well as your native language, you would have recognized that your run-on sentence is awkward to read, at best. If you wish to use this in the future, please, rephrase this into two separate sentences. This does not fatigue the reader's eye and maintains active voice. Maintaining active voice serves to engage your reader and makes them more pliant to your persuasions.

Additionally, Mr. Oputa, you failed to use proper punctuation in your title. This does not bode well for someone who is of your supposed level of education. I will not state the obvious errors you have made in capitalization, the use of comma-splicing, or your poor execution of conveying the urgency of the situation.

Line three of your letter is by far the most legible of the missive. At the same time, however, your passive voice continues to plague your writing. I will not insult your intelligence by presuming to give you a better phrasing. I am certain that this simple error is quite easily resolved with a little bit of thought.

Line four of your letter is marginally better then line three. Failure to use proper punctuation at the end of the line is something that I can forgive. Inserting e-mail addresses into the final clause of a sentence is difficult and can make punctuation problematic.

Mr. Oputa, your failure to impress me with your missive most assuredly means that you will fail to impress me in other areas. If you, an educated man, can not write a simple e-mail to me that properly expresses the urgency of your mission or presents a compelling argument for me to contact you, I highly doubt you can muster up anything truly of interest. If you wish to try again, I will be happy to assist you.

The fee for my services as a beta-reader and editor begins at $100/hr. This can be negotiated, provided you are accomplished enough in the language to engage in such a discussion. If you are unable to do so, Mr. Oputa, I would suggest that you speak with your colleague, the most unimpressively named Tom.

I am most disappointed. Mr. Oputa. If I were grading your work, I would give you an 'F' and have you re-write this letter until it is correct. At which time, I would then have you copy it thirty times, to ensure that the proper methodology of how to compose correspondence is burned into your feeble brain.

So, I published some stuff.

The Red Chair has finally made it through the editing process. It is up on Lulu as both a paperback and an ebook. My next task will be to distribute the links through out the blog-o-sphere and the social networking sites I am on. They're both inexpensive works. It's the first time I have something out there under my real name.

I'm a little nervous but at the same time I am excited. It's not everyday that I do this. Who knows, I may get this thing to work out pretty well for me.

Good Morning World!

The boys are happily playing trains and cars just across the room. I've got some cheerful music playing on the radio and I have made some major progress on a long term project I have been working on for months. All I need is another cup of coffee.

I am feeling pretty good about life. It is a glorious thing to feel this way. I am profoundly thankful.

I'm a Feminist.

I had a hard time sleeping last night because of how angry I was over the treatment that these young ladies had gotten for standing up for their rights. I get furious over the blatant disrespect, harassment, and verbal abuse that young women are routinely subjected to. The tired old excuse of 'boys are just that way' makes me so angry that I have a hard time seeing straight.

I get furious when I hear people say that feminism is a 'finished' thing. (I have the same response when I hear that said about racism too, by the way.) The fight for equal rights is not going to be finished until people are judged on the merits of their work and behavior, rather then their appearance. It's not going to be finished until harassment of women under the guise of flirtation is no longer tolerated. It's not going to be finished until women are getting equal pay for equal work. It's not going to be finished until people look at a stay at home mom and acknowledge how much hard work she does, and the value of her contribution to society, rather then saying she's 'just a housewife.'

When the subtle and gross insults that insinuate that one gender is less then another are eradicated from our language, perhaps then we can begin to engage in an open discussion of what gender is really about. When people stop upholding the double standard that men can be bare chested in public with out criticism but women being bare chested is obscene, perhaps we can begin a real discussion about what is decent dress and manner of behavior for a setting. I could keep listing off injustices subtle and gross until I'm blue in the face and I wouldn't begin to scrape the surface of this pervasive problem.

Feminism is not about decrying men or putting them down. It's about creating a culture where gender matters about as much as your toenail clippings. It's about creating a society where people are considered on the merits of their behavior, actions, and ideas. I'm not a feminist because I am angry or because I hate men. I'm a feminist because I see a fundamental problem in how our society operates and that I must take action to correct it.

I want my sons to grow up in a more just world. The only way that is going to happen is if I take steps to make sure it is in my home and in the people we associate with. Boys are not born misogynistic. They are taught this. We need to teach them a better way.

Conscious kindness.

I've been doing a lot of thinking today about what it means to be kind. It's especially difficult to do when you are upset or in an otherwise unpleasant mental space. I have been struggling today with a decision on how to handle a situation that brought up a lot of unpleasant feelings. As I examined the feelings, I found myself making a determined effort to let go of them and treating them like physical sensations.

It was a bit frustrating at first. A part of me wanted to throw in the proverbial towel and just let myself be all angry and hurt. I then asked myself, was that the kind thing to do? It was less a matter of being kind to some other person and more one of being kind to myself. When it was all said and done, I came to the conclusion that wallowing in anger and angst was a cruel thing to do to myself.

So, I returned to observing the sensation of anger and angst. Somewhere in the midst of this, the hold of those feelings waned. It was no longer nigh on all consuming. I then moved from observing the sensation to getting to the root of it. I named what I was feeling and then identified the cause. Once I established what the cause of the feeling was, I carefully considered what each possible way to address the cause that came to mind.

My recurrent question as I looked at the costs and benefits of each action that was 'is it just?' and then it was 'is it kind?' It took me a while to sift through the emotional response that each considered action brought to the fore. I found myself rehearsing arguments with people, regardless if those arguments were even going to happen. I found myself considering what would be sufficient to make the people who had upset me regret doing so. I found myself considering petty retorts that while temporarily satisfying would have only proven to exacerbate the problem.

The thing that I surprised myself with, however, was that even as I explored the actions that I didn't believe to be fitting (because I decided that any possible solution that came to mind had to be carefully examined before being discarded), I wasn't judgmental towards myself for thinking of them. I disengaged from criticism by way of looking at what the emotions at play behind the response that I considered were.

It took me a significant portion of my afternoon to get down to the roots of all the feelings involved. I carefully examined each possible solution that would address the primary problems. When I finished examining them all, I put each one through my two bellwether questions (mentioned earlier). Once I found the solution that met both requirements, I decided that I was finished with my exploration. The conscious exploration of what was both a just and a kind solution just served to further cement in my mind that I choose to be a kind person.

Kindness is mistaken by some people for weakness. In my relentless pursuit of the best solution to the problem that evoked the negative response from me, I realized that it takes great strength to remain kind when the situation evokes a passionate desire to be seeking retribution, even under the guise of being just. It's less a matter of wrestling with something external at that point and struggling against yourself. I think that kindness won this round because I consciously chose to remain kind despite what other options there were.

The temporary satisfaction that might have come from cutting retorts just wouldn't outweigh the long term complications that would have come from it. It also would have been something that I would have regretted. So, I chose kindness.