Lo! These several months later, and I'm actually working on sewing my first garment in *mumble mumble* years. OK, like, 15 years. It's a dress. A very very simple dress. (View C.) I'm re-making all my newbie mistakes, but it's great because I'm re-learning all that stuff. Nonetheless, this will be a housedress, not to be worn in public. But it's lovely fabric and light and cool, just what I need around the house in the hot, sticky summertime if I'm going to keep my A/C temp setting in the mid-70s, or off altogether. AND: I still know how to put a zipper in on the first try. *polishes nails, looks proud*
Just the facings and the hems to be done yet, and I can start deciding what's next. Whee!
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
Friday, March 27, 2009
So once again, due to my own denial, lack of planning, what-have-you, I have a disappointment. My plan for today was to do a couple of housework chores then sit down to adjust the simplest blouse pattern I've got, and sew a blouse. I have two books "The Perfect Fit," and "How to Make Sewing Patterns," the latter because it shows with photographs how to measure yourself when you don't have someone to help. I have a tape measure and the pattern, the fabric, the thread, even the interfacing.
So, impatient to imagine ahead, I measured myself for the blouse.
Reality bites.
I'm several inches BIGGER than the biggest size this pattern is meant for. From what I've read of these books, which isn't 100%, this means I'm pretty much going to be starting from scratch - and I'm not at all sure I even have enough of this fabric.
ARGH!!!
So, I can forget about the sewing until I lose about thirty pounds (at least), or I can sit down and really study these books and use this first pattern as my crash course in pattern-making. Well. One thing I can do is to cut out the pattern paper and make a duplicate in newsprint, and use the copy to try out the methods in the book. That would be a step forward.
I remember in junior high when we were learning to sew in Home Ec (and isn't THAT quaint?), when we got to the zipper in a - was it a skirt? or a dress. Can't remember. Anyway, I must have ripped that zipper out twenty times. How I loathed it! Teen impatience, oh my god. But somehow, I stuck with it (maybe I would have flunked if I didn't at least FINISH the goddamned thing) and in the end, I think I had made about every mistake possible when putting in a zipper, and by god, I knew how to put in a zipper. I found in later years that I could put any kind of zipper in any kind of garment and it looked and worked just fine. That was one of those lessons no one could have consoled me with when I was down in the basement sweating, crying, and cursing over that stinking Home Ec assignment. I had to go through it myself, and discover later that it really was worth it. I don't remember what kind of grade I got on the Home Ec garment, probably not very good since it was chewed up pretty good, lol. But it was a skill, a hard-earned one.
So maybe what I have to do is the same thing over adjusting patterns, now. Either that or I've simply moved all that fabric I've got (enough for a full year's worth of new clothes) from one place of storage, to MY place of storage. I really hate that idea. So, it's back to school this afternoon...
Saturday, January 31, 2009
I was remembering yesterday some of the clueless things I did in my young adulthood. I smile at my younger self from the vantage point of some 20 - 30 years' experience. I used to get embarrassed thinking about them but now I see, at least they were harmless and well-meant.
I lived on a farmstead in northern Iowa during my first marriage, when my son was a toddler. We had farm cats, and we had an Indoor cat. We fed the farm cats generic cat food in huge brown paper bags from the local farm supply place. The Indoor cat got Purina Cat Chow. It was the early 70's then, and though we lived far, far off the beaten path we did get one UHF (or was that VHF...) TV station from the "big" town twenty miles away, and we read the newspaper and I went to the library all the time, so we were well aware of Earth Day and the environmental movement just in its infancy. One day I fed the Indoor cat the last of one bag of chow and got to looking at the bright, slick bag with its gorgeous cat on the front. I thought, what a waste of paper and beautiful pictures. I sat down and wrote the company a letter congratulating them on their lovely cat food bags and helpfully suggesting they run a contest for the best re-use of the bags. I mailed it (post-box at the end of the long driveway) and then cut up the bag to make a dust cover for a book, and forgot about it. Some time later I got a response! It was a letter from their marketing department thanking me for my interest and enclosing a few coupons for Cat Chow. I don't remember the exact wording of the letter all these years hence, but I do remember the tone of polite bafflement. They regretfully nixed the suggestion of the contest, I do remember that. Ah well, we got a few cents off the next few bags of cat food.
One of the shows we could get on the one TV channel was the Dinah Shore program, the morning one with the now-classic morning-show format: she'd sing a song, there'd be a guest of fame or accomplishment, they'd do some cooking, she'd sing another song, and maybe there'd be a humorous bit with someone bringing their talented pet or children. I watched that show every day. (I remember being very intrigued when Burt Reynolds was the guest; EVERYONE knew they'd been an Item a few years before.) I got the idea that the local TV station needed a local show like that, only environmentally-oriented, and of course hosted by Yours Truly. I spent a few days developing ideas and themes for a bunch of shows. I even made up a list of what I thought would be likely advertisers. THOSE were thin on the ground in an agricultural state in the early 1970s, let me tell you. And I made an appointment with the station manager to discuss it.
I was terrified through the whole conversation. He was polite and kind (though it was obvious he was first and foremost a businessman) but when he asked how they would possibly pay for it, my paltry hand-written list didn't impress him. He of course knew all those vendors in the region and (as I realize now) knew they wouldn't have the slightest interest in footing the bill for an environmental talk show. In the face of the station manager's cold realism, my beautiful idea withered as I sat in his office. I felt like a complete idiot and slunk home to nurse my sore ego. (He did do an interview with me and a couple of other people I'd started a theater group with a few years later. I was on TV! With, of course, no way to record it back then, so I never saw myself. It's no doubt just as well, lol.)
There may be a few other such memories lurking just out of reach in the back of my increasingly rusty memory bank. I think I was naive long after the age I should have got wise to the world. Now I think of it as a baby chick struggling to peck its way out of the shell.
I lived on a farmstead in northern Iowa during my first marriage, when my son was a toddler. We had farm cats, and we had an Indoor cat. We fed the farm cats generic cat food in huge brown paper bags from the local farm supply place. The Indoor cat got Purina Cat Chow. It was the early 70's then, and though we lived far, far off the beaten path we did get one UHF (or was that VHF...) TV station from the "big" town twenty miles away, and we read the newspaper and I went to the library all the time, so we were well aware of Earth Day and the environmental movement just in its infancy. One day I fed the Indoor cat the last of one bag of chow and got to looking at the bright, slick bag with its gorgeous cat on the front. I thought, what a waste of paper and beautiful pictures. I sat down and wrote the company a letter congratulating them on their lovely cat food bags and helpfully suggesting they run a contest for the best re-use of the bags. I mailed it (post-box at the end of the long driveway) and then cut up the bag to make a dust cover for a book, and forgot about it. Some time later I got a response! It was a letter from their marketing department thanking me for my interest and enclosing a few coupons for Cat Chow. I don't remember the exact wording of the letter all these years hence, but I do remember the tone of polite bafflement. They regretfully nixed the suggestion of the contest, I do remember that. Ah well, we got a few cents off the next few bags of cat food.
One of the shows we could get on the one TV channel was the Dinah Shore program, the morning one with the now-classic morning-show format: she'd sing a song, there'd be a guest of fame or accomplishment, they'd do some cooking, she'd sing another song, and maybe there'd be a humorous bit with someone bringing their talented pet or children. I watched that show every day. (I remember being very intrigued when Burt Reynolds was the guest; EVERYONE knew they'd been an Item a few years before.) I got the idea that the local TV station needed a local show like that, only environmentally-oriented, and of course hosted by Yours Truly. I spent a few days developing ideas and themes for a bunch of shows. I even made up a list of what I thought would be likely advertisers. THOSE were thin on the ground in an agricultural state in the early 1970s, let me tell you. And I made an appointment with the station manager to discuss it.
I was terrified through the whole conversation. He was polite and kind (though it was obvious he was first and foremost a businessman) but when he asked how they would possibly pay for it, my paltry hand-written list didn't impress him. He of course knew all those vendors in the region and (as I realize now) knew they wouldn't have the slightest interest in footing the bill for an environmental talk show. In the face of the station manager's cold realism, my beautiful idea withered as I sat in his office. I felt like a complete idiot and slunk home to nurse my sore ego. (He did do an interview with me and a couple of other people I'd started a theater group with a few years later. I was on TV! With, of course, no way to record it back then, so I never saw myself. It's no doubt just as well, lol.)
There may be a few other such memories lurking just out of reach in the back of my increasingly rusty memory bank. I think I was naive long after the age I should have got wise to the world. Now I think of it as a baby chick struggling to peck its way out of the shell.
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
Saturday, December 27, 2008
Channel-surfing on a break between housecleaning chores, I came across a public access station showing a film of Omaha's recent history. They were interviewing various movers and shakers and wannabes about the Old Market, which started out as a neighborhood of warehouses and manufacturing buildings down by the Missouri River in Omaha's original downtown. My late husband, Bob, was one of the late 1960's "Old Market layabouts"; one particular family had invested in a lot of the area and made cheap warehouse space available to artists and entrepreneurs, and Bob had a photography studio down there, where he lived and worked, amidst many of his friends. Over the years I heard so many stories about their hijinks and escapades. Quite the wild bunch they were, and I know he always felt those were his golden years. I knew some of the people interviewed for this TV film, quite a lot about some of them.There was old footage of hippies hanging out on the curbs, blowing bubbles, and people remodeling some of the old buildings, and working in their little stores. Much of the art that hangs on my walls came from some of those artists, working so bright-eyed and young back then, on the cutting edge of Omaha's embryonic arts culture.
A weird mood has settled on me watching this. So many of those old friends of Bob's have gone now, there must be a great reunion party going on somewhere. The sanitized version Omaha is presenting in this film is not much like the stories I heard. And the weirdness lies in how detached I feel. For a few minutes this living room was filled with voices and faces that Bob knew well - I wouldn't be surprised if he knew everyone in those old home movies - and I wonder what he would have said about it. I'm not sad, exactly. It's the transience of everything filling the room here, I think. This is a sense that's seeping into me more and more since he died. Nothing new or original with me, of course. Just new *to* me.
A weird mood has settled on me watching this. So many of those old friends of Bob's have gone now, there must be a great reunion party going on somewhere. The sanitized version Omaha is presenting in this film is not much like the stories I heard. And the weirdness lies in how detached I feel. For a few minutes this living room was filled with voices and faces that Bob knew well - I wouldn't be surprised if he knew everyone in those old home movies - and I wonder what he would have said about it. I'm not sad, exactly. It's the transience of everything filling the room here, I think. This is a sense that's seeping into me more and more since he died. Nothing new or original with me, of course. Just new *to* me.
Saturday, November 15, 2008
I'm very discouraged today. I have been purchasing materials and planning to make a line of handmade items to sell on Etsy.com. I don't have a store there yet, because I need to have an inventory first, as well as logo, banner art, business card design, etc. But I've invested a couple hundred dollars so far in materials and equipment to make these things which will be aimed at people who I expect to be at least 21 years old and probably more like 50 or 60.
Anyway, yesterday a discussion erupted on the Etsy forums about a new law (the Consumer Products Safety Improvement Act) that's proposed in Congress that, if applied broadly, apparently will require all of us small business people making handmade items to keep extensive records and reporting capabilities to the Consumer Product Safety Commission, maybe even requiring us to pay for testing of our products. Trouble is that no one - including the CPSC themselves - seems to really know who and what is covered, and what the obligations will be.
Well - this was going to be a fun, part-time way for me to be creative and make some money to maybe do some improvements around my house that my normal budget won't allow. If it's going to turn into a monstrous money pit and bureaucratic nightmare, I don't need it. Of course, there's a lot of concern and agitation going on amongst the Etsy crafters but no one seems to have figured out what it really means. So I'm going to just sit on this idea for awhile - after all, I have enough other projects I could be doing with the time this would have consumed - until the dust settles and the CPSC comes out with their final regulations. It's kind of looking like the bill was written to answer those horrible problems of things like flammable materials used in children's pajamas that were made in foreign lands, lead in toy paint, etc., and the writers were unaware that there is a pretty vast population of self-supporting crafters out here whose businesses would be absolutely crushed if this thing is broadly applied. They'll be hearing from some Etsyans now, that's for sure, and maybe they'll refine the bill's language to avoid that.
But dang, I was looking forward to this little enterprise of mine...
Anyway, yesterday a discussion erupted on the Etsy forums about a new law (the Consumer Products Safety Improvement Act) that's proposed in Congress that, if applied broadly, apparently will require all of us small business people making handmade items to keep extensive records and reporting capabilities to the Consumer Product Safety Commission, maybe even requiring us to pay for testing of our products. Trouble is that no one - including the CPSC themselves - seems to really know who and what is covered, and what the obligations will be.
Well - this was going to be a fun, part-time way for me to be creative and make some money to maybe do some improvements around my house that my normal budget won't allow. If it's going to turn into a monstrous money pit and bureaucratic nightmare, I don't need it. Of course, there's a lot of concern and agitation going on amongst the Etsy crafters but no one seems to have figured out what it really means. So I'm going to just sit on this idea for awhile - after all, I have enough other projects I could be doing with the time this would have consumed - until the dust settles and the CPSC comes out with their final regulations. It's kind of looking like the bill was written to answer those horrible problems of things like flammable materials used in children's pajamas that were made in foreign lands, lead in toy paint, etc., and the writers were unaware that there is a pretty vast population of self-supporting crafters out here whose businesses would be absolutely crushed if this thing is broadly applied. They'll be hearing from some Etsyans now, that's for sure, and maybe they'll refine the bill's language to avoid that.
But dang, I was looking forward to this little enterprise of mine...
Friday, October 10, 2008
Friday night, yay!
I didn't realize it had been so long since I posted anything here in Blogger. I've been on Live Journal a lot, though.
Haven't written any fiction in months & months, though I think about last year's NaNoWriMo book every day. I just never get around to writing on it. I'm fractured into seventy different directions - work, house, yard, cats, selling my dear husband's photography equipment at APUG.org (which is a user's group concentrated on film photography - no digital there. Those folks are the absolute BEST. They are so helpful and kind, and I've found new homes for quite a bit of hubby's stuff). It's slow, and there is so much other stuff here I need to divest myself of. And I'm getting ready for another enterprise which, when it is launched, I will try to remember to announce here, and which may serve as a little bit of extra income and an outlet for some creative and scavenging instincts I've got. Oh, let's say "recycling" instead of "scavenging."
Anyway, I'm disorganized and frustrated with all this extra stuff around here and how slowly I'm getting rid of it - I got plans, oh boy do I have plans - but I vascillate between beating myself up for being so slow and disorganized, and telling myself, well, Terry, you dummy, you have to live life today, too, you can't just keep pounding yourself over the head with this idea that SOMEDAY when all the extra stuff has been gotten rid of, THEN you can live life. It's a habit of thinking that's plagued me all my adult life. This vascillation is no doubtr at least partly responsible for my disorganization. Talk about a vicious cycle.
OK, I've made a new post. It's not very interesting, I'm afraid - except OH YEAH I'M A GRANDMA!!! The baby arrived exactly on her due date, and I got to go out and spend a week with her and her folks when she was just 9 -15 days old, and I guess I'm not going to top that for excitingness so I'll close this now.
I didn't realize it had been so long since I posted anything here in Blogger. I've been on Live Journal a lot, though.
Haven't written any fiction in months & months, though I think about last year's NaNoWriMo book every day. I just never get around to writing on it. I'm fractured into seventy different directions - work, house, yard, cats, selling my dear husband's photography equipment at APUG.org (which is a user's group concentrated on film photography - no digital there. Those folks are the absolute BEST. They are so helpful and kind, and I've found new homes for quite a bit of hubby's stuff). It's slow, and there is so much other stuff here I need to divest myself of. And I'm getting ready for another enterprise which, when it is launched, I will try to remember to announce here, and which may serve as a little bit of extra income and an outlet for some creative and scavenging instincts I've got. Oh, let's say "recycling" instead of "scavenging."
Anyway, I'm disorganized and frustrated with all this extra stuff around here and how slowly I'm getting rid of it - I got plans, oh boy do I have plans - but I vascillate between beating myself up for being so slow and disorganized, and telling myself, well, Terry, you dummy, you have to live life today, too, you can't just keep pounding yourself over the head with this idea that SOMEDAY when all the extra stuff has been gotten rid of, THEN you can live life. It's a habit of thinking that's plagued me all my adult life. This vascillation is no doubtr at least partly responsible for my disorganization. Talk about a vicious cycle.
OK, I've made a new post. It's not very interesting, I'm afraid - except OH YEAH I'M A GRANDMA!!! The baby arrived exactly on her due date, and I got to go out and spend a week with her and her folks when she was just 9 -15 days old, and I guess I'm not going to top that for excitingness so I'll close this now.
Saturday, March 15, 2008
Well, smack my head and call me Grannie.
But wait until after August. That's when my VERY FIRST GRANDCHILD will be arriving!!!
I'm in shock, I think. Geez, this is going to take some getting used to!
This changes everything.
I think.
But wait until after August. That's when my VERY FIRST GRANDCHILD will be arriving!!!
I'm in shock, I think. Geez, this is going to take some getting used to!
This changes everything.
I think.
Trundling right along in my most-recent Grown-up Groove (having fixed the toilet all on my own last weekend), I loaded my lawn mower into my trunk this morning and took it to the mower doctor's place to get all fixed up for the oncoming mowing season. That sucker is heavy! And my rope and knots contraption to keep it from bouncing out of the trunk made the mower-fixer-guy laugh, of course, but who cares.
Then in a paroxysm of Grown-upness, I went & had my car cleaned, inside and out! Woo hoo! And then a roofer came and looked at my roof and told me that the best thing for me to do is to patch the one bad spot and let it go; I have asbestos shingles and it costs $2000 per 100 square feet to dispose of them! gasp! Well, as it should be, I say, that stuff is Not Nice for people to handle, and we shouldn't be just dumping it into landfills or whatever. He also said he'd save any salvageable shingles as he worked (if he gets my business) and wrap them up tight and safe so if I ever had another break, I could use the old ones. You can't buy them any more (of course, and perfectly fine with me) so used ones are going for $25 - 50 apiece on the open market. He won't give me an estimate on the needed repairs until he can get up there and look at the roof, which will be sometime this week. So, now two more roofing guys need to come over and tell me what they think. And when I've picked myself up off the floor, I'll have to decide what to do: go into debt now, or wait & save my money to pay for the work now. Depends on how much it is, of course.
And isn't this Adult World of Grown-Upness exciting? My golly, I'm just all -
Uh, just all -
Um. Well, I wore out that fit of Adultness quick, dint I? Phew.
But I've done a few housey things today, and now I've just subsided into my usual pile of inert So-whatness. It's OK; it's Saturday. Tomorrow is Errands and Chores day. Tonight I can channel surf and jack around doing nuthin' all I like. :^)
Then in a paroxysm of Grown-upness, I went & had my car cleaned, inside and out! Woo hoo! And then a roofer came and looked at my roof and told me that the best thing for me to do is to patch the one bad spot and let it go; I have asbestos shingles and it costs $2000 per 100 square feet to dispose of them! gasp! Well, as it should be, I say, that stuff is Not Nice for people to handle, and we shouldn't be just dumping it into landfills or whatever. He also said he'd save any salvageable shingles as he worked (if he gets my business) and wrap them up tight and safe so if I ever had another break, I could use the old ones. You can't buy them any more (of course, and perfectly fine with me) so used ones are going for $25 - 50 apiece on the open market. He won't give me an estimate on the needed repairs until he can get up there and look at the roof, which will be sometime this week. So, now two more roofing guys need to come over and tell me what they think. And when I've picked myself up off the floor, I'll have to decide what to do: go into debt now, or wait & save my money to pay for the work now. Depends on how much it is, of course.
And isn't this Adult World of Grown-Upness exciting? My golly, I'm just all -
Uh, just all -
Um. Well, I wore out that fit of Adultness quick, dint I? Phew.
But I've done a few housey things today, and now I've just subsided into my usual pile of inert So-whatness. It's OK; it's Saturday. Tomorrow is Errands and Chores day. Tonight I can channel surf and jack around doing nuthin' all I like. :^)
Sunday, March 09, 2008
I've been posting mainly in Live Journal lately, especially since Speculations Rumor Mill has closed down. A bunch of Rumor Millers have migrated to LJ to huddle together in our bereavement. Someone, bless them, started a LJ Rejection/Acceptance Community that sort-of replaces the RM's. So if you have R/A's you want to post, I suppose the easiest way is to email me and I'll tell you how to join LJ (if you're already registered, my handle there is threeoutside); if you Friend me, and I Friend you back, I think you'll be able to find my Friends list, and the RMers and R/A Community should be accessible through that. (And I must say, I do loathe that verbing of the noun Friend. Just so you know. I use it under protest.)
In other news, I completed the first draft of my first short story of 2008 yesterday. I wrote it for the writer's workshop at WillyCon coming right up the first weekend in April. Jack McDevitt, the Author GoH, will be running the workshop and I'm thrilled and terrified that he'll be reading and critting my story.
Looks like I sold a story to Thaneros! Now, if you look at that word, it's a combination of two Greek words, one meaning Death and the other, well, Eros. So if you've an easily offended sensibility you won't want to be going and looking for this story - or, likely, any other story on that new ezine. But I'm very proud of that story, I think it's one of the best I've ever written, so if you're of a broad-minded nature, by all means when it's published, do read it. And I've a thick skin - let me know what you think of it, if you want to. I'll try to remember to post here when it's online. It's going to be published in three parts, one a week, by the way.
So I'm hoping yesterday's story completion means I'm climbing back onto the writing horse again.
In music news, I downloaded NIN's new four-disc album Ghosts I - IV yesterday, but apparently my old stereo system won't play MP3s, so now I have to invest in some batteries because the ones I scrounged up yesterday didn't have the juice to power my CD player. Bah. It's so frustrating! I do so look forward to hearing Reznor's instrumental music! This set is all instrumentals played with, as usual, by a large cast of his musical friends. Including Adrian Belew (whoa!).
That's about it this time.
In other news, I completed the first draft of my first short story of 2008 yesterday. I wrote it for the writer's workshop at WillyCon coming right up the first weekend in April. Jack McDevitt, the Author GoH, will be running the workshop and I'm thrilled and terrified that he'll be reading and critting my story.
Looks like I sold a story to Thaneros! Now, if you look at that word, it's a combination of two Greek words, one meaning Death and the other, well, Eros. So if you've an easily offended sensibility you won't want to be going and looking for this story - or, likely, any other story on that new ezine. But I'm very proud of that story, I think it's one of the best I've ever written, so if you're of a broad-minded nature, by all means when it's published, do read it. And I've a thick skin - let me know what you think of it, if you want to. I'll try to remember to post here when it's online. It's going to be published in three parts, one a week, by the way.
So I'm hoping yesterday's story completion means I'm climbing back onto the writing horse again.
In music news, I downloaded NIN's new four-disc album Ghosts I - IV yesterday, but apparently my old stereo system won't play MP3s, so now I have to invest in some batteries because the ones I scrounged up yesterday didn't have the juice to power my CD player. Bah. It's so frustrating! I do so look forward to hearing Reznor's instrumental music! This set is all instrumentals played with, as usual, by a large cast of his musical friends. Including Adrian Belew (whoa!).
That's about it this time.
Monday, November 26, 2007
Your Score: PORTLAND!
You scored 28% Style, 15% Climate, and 56% Culture!
You are Portland, Oregon! Portland, the largest city in Oregon and seat of Multnomah County, is located in the northwest part of the state on the Willamette River. Portland has a diverse economy with a broad base of manufacturing, distribution, wholesale and retail trade, regional government, and business services. Major manufacturing industries include machinery, electronics, metals, transportation equipment, and lumber and wood products. Technology is a thriving part of Portland's economy, with over 1,700 high-tech companies located in the metropolitan area. Tourism is also important to Portland's economy, drawing more than 7 million visitors annually.You are a nicely cultured individual, appreciating a good play, book, movie, or fine dining. You also appreciate some diversity, lest things get too boring. Not one for sitting and relaxing for long periods at a time nor dressing up the nines, you take interest in getting outside and being out in nature, enjoying the cool, crisp air...maybe even playing a sport or taking a hike. Portland is a good place to be, my friend. My test tracked 3 variables How you compared to other people your age and gender:You scored higher than 99% on Style
You scored higher than 99% on Climate
You scored higher than 99% on Culture
=======================================================
Portland are Me. I don't get these stats. Which is it, 28% Style, or 99% Style? And what' s Style? *snicker* Knowing myself, the 18% is the right one. Ah well.
...
In other news: only got the NaNo novel up to 24,063 words over the long weekend. Doesn't look like I'm going to get to 50K before November 30, which is ... [checking] ... this Friday. But, I've got a good start and it's got enough substance and potential, I think I'll keep working on it.
Wednesday, November 14, 2007
19,822 words total last night, about 1938 more than were there the day before. Not keeping up with the minimum daily average needed to win but I still got hopes!
The NaNo experts say Week Two is when you become convinced you're writing pure crap, and they're right. For now, I'm just going for the word count, like Jack Torrance: "All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy." lol
The NaNo experts say Week Two is when you become convinced you're writing pure crap, and they're right. For now, I'm just going for the word count, like Jack Torrance: "All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy." lol
Monday, November 12, 2007
16,711 words as of Friday night - didn't do much yesterday so didn't post anything...
But I've got a cute cat story today.
My cat, Adams, is a burly boy who is constantly on the lookout for the main chance to escape to the great big outside world. He keeps sneaking into the garage through my broken screen door, when I'm not paying close enough attention. His nose is the first to the front door when I come home in the evening, hoping I'll forget he's there and he can get LOOSE and get FREE and feel the WIND in his fur, and have ADVENTURES etc etc etc. Drives me nuts.
Well, today I had a couple of people over here for a project, and when we were done, the two folks were chatting and meandering around between the front door, their cars, and my living room, and I was kind of distracted. At one point while we were all in the front room hashing things over, I stepped over and closed the front door. Not one minute later there was a tremendous CRASH! at the front door. Startled, I looked over just in time to see a big furry body fly up - I mean like four feet off the ground - and throw itself against the storm door with a loud kitty KKKAAAYYYYYYYAAAAHHHH! like a Ninja. In the two seconds it took for me to get to the door, I was confused: was there a neighborhood cat wanting in? Then it happened again! KKKKAAAAYYYAAAAHHH! Thud! and that furry body had thrown itself against the door again. I opened the door, opened the storm door, and was almost knocked off my feet by - none other than Indiana Cat, the dashing Adventurer - Adams, racing back indoors as fast as his kitty feet could carry him.
He'd sneaked out during the back& forth, and I hadn't noticed, and then I'D CLOSED THE DOOR!!!!
The two visitors didn't know my cats, so they were a little puzzled at the extent of my raucous laughter. And I've had a cat-shaped appendage the rest of the afternoon. I guess he wants to make sure I don't get out of his sight again. My big hero cat adventurer. LOL!
But I've got a cute cat story today.
My cat, Adams, is a burly boy who is constantly on the lookout for the main chance to escape to the great big outside world. He keeps sneaking into the garage through my broken screen door, when I'm not paying close enough attention. His nose is the first to the front door when I come home in the evening, hoping I'll forget he's there and he can get LOOSE and get FREE and feel the WIND in his fur, and have ADVENTURES etc etc etc. Drives me nuts.
Well, today I had a couple of people over here for a project, and when we were done, the two folks were chatting and meandering around between the front door, their cars, and my living room, and I was kind of distracted. At one point while we were all in the front room hashing things over, I stepped over and closed the front door. Not one minute later there was a tremendous CRASH! at the front door. Startled, I looked over just in time to see a big furry body fly up - I mean like four feet off the ground - and throw itself against the storm door with a loud kitty KKKAAAYYYYYYYAAAAHHHH! like a Ninja. In the two seconds it took for me to get to the door, I was confused: was there a neighborhood cat wanting in? Then it happened again! KKKKAAAAYYYAAAAHHH! Thud! and that furry body had thrown itself against the door again. I opened the door, opened the storm door, and was almost knocked off my feet by - none other than Indiana Cat, the dashing Adventurer - Adams, racing back indoors as fast as his kitty feet could carry him.
He'd sneaked out during the back& forth, and I hadn't noticed, and then I'D CLOSED THE DOOR!!!!
The two visitors didn't know my cats, so they were a little puzzled at the extent of my raucous laughter. And I've had a cat-shaped appendage the rest of the afternoon. I guess he wants to make sure I don't get out of his sight again. My big hero cat adventurer. LOL!
Friday, November 09, 2007
12,142 words!
Took Wednesday night off, I was just too exhausted. (Turns out I needed to remove the leveling shims from my bed's frame once I'd rotated and flipped my mattress - that teeny amount of slant was costing me whole nights' sleep! MUCH better now! Make a note: if you're sleeping poorly, check the level of your bed - head to toe and side to side.)
So I needed to write 3334 words last night to catch up. But, I was really tired again and only got 2007 words - which was still a bit above the necessary daily average to "win" NaNo, so I feel somewhat mollified. And, there's a three-day weekend coming up, so I have confidence I'll catch up entirely, and even pull a bit ahead, over the weekend.
Right now this little shrub is growing every whichway but I can go back and prune it later. This gives me lots of potential branches to follow in the next 3 weeks.
Took Wednesday night off, I was just too exhausted. (Turns out I needed to remove the leveling shims from my bed's frame once I'd rotated and flipped my mattress - that teeny amount of slant was costing me whole nights' sleep! MUCH better now! Make a note: if you're sleeping poorly, check the level of your bed - head to toe and side to side.)
So I needed to write 3334 words last night to catch up. But, I was really tired again and only got 2007 words - which was still a bit above the necessary daily average to "win" NaNo, so I feel somewhat mollified. And, there's a three-day weekend coming up, so I have confidence I'll catch up entirely, and even pull a bit ahead, over the weekend.
Right now this little shrub is growing every whichway but I can go back and prune it later. This gives me lots of potential branches to follow in the next 3 weeks.
Wednesday, November 07, 2007
Easy night last night - I only needed about 550 words to hit my mark for Day 6, so I was really tired, so that's what I did. Got 'er up to 10, 032 words and called it a night. Back to the daily quota level tonight...
Tuesday, November 06, 2007
Got 'er up to 9,460 words last night! Whee!
Then looked at my NaNo page and saw that one of my buddies is at 41,000. LOL
Ah well, I'm very happy with my progress so far - I think this is the most I've written for NaNo this early in the month. Must. Keep. Writing!
Then looked at my NaNo page and saw that one of my buddies is at 41,000. LOL
Ah well, I'm very happy with my progress so far - I think this is the most I've written for NaNo this early in the month. Must. Keep. Writing!
Monday, November 05, 2007
Came out of the weekend with a total of 7,023 NaNoWriMo words on my novel! And it's been fun! And that is the end of the first chapter. So far, so good.
Friday, November 02, 2007
Yay, 2,001 words accomplished for NaNoWriMo Day One yesterday! Woo hoo! I'm on my way!
And, yes, I did get to have my week in Paris, the first week in October. And yes, I do have tons of stuff to post, and photos to set up in Kodak Gallery. Things take time. I'm still absorbing much of what occurred in Paris. It'll probably be the only time I ever get to go, so I'm savoring all the memories and poring over the changes that magic city initiated in me.
But right now, It's National Novel Writing Month so don't expect much. (No oftener than I post here, I don't reckon you do anyway.
And, yes, I did get to have my week in Paris, the first week in October. And yes, I do have tons of stuff to post, and photos to set up in Kodak Gallery. Things take time. I'm still absorbing much of what occurred in Paris. It'll probably be the only time I ever get to go, so I'm savoring all the memories and poring over the changes that magic city initiated in me.
But right now, It's National Novel Writing Month so don't expect much. (No oftener than I post here, I don't reckon you do anyway.
Monday, April 09, 2007
Is this what relaxing feels like?
I spent the weekend repeatedly making myself sit down and do nothing - well, sit down and read for pleasure.
In the months since my husband died I've kept a small but steady series of balls up in the air. I have a list of Things to Do, large projects and small ones, long-term and short-term, for myself, for others, about the house, finances, disposal of things of my husband's in appropriate manners...I keep two or three of them going at a time.
It's not Avoidance (of the pain of grief: in evidence I offer the fact that I do feel it daily, write in my diary about it, talk about it, sometimes wallow in it for short bursts), (of loneliness: I have no troubles with being alone, but I do miss my husband terribly. I "get along" fine on my own, otherwise).
It's just that there are a couple of overarching concerns: #1 that I clear out what I don't need as soon as I am able, timewise, financially, or emotionally so that if anything happens to me, my son isn't stuck dealing with all that excess. God knows he'll have enough to deal with just with the stuff I want to keep and will use! #2 that I maintain the house & yard in good condition for future sale, most probably when I die or if I ever have to move elsewhere.
But last weekend I'd gotten to a kind of coasting place. The two or three Current Projects, I have to wait for others' actions or inputs. I know better than to start another one, that way madness lies. I was caught up with my financial info and obligations; the house was clean; I had no outside committments. It was time to practice Relaxing. Loafing. Sitting around. Reading for pleasure for long periods of time.
I've gotten out of that habit. I don't say that bragging about how hard I work (anyone who knows me that working hard is NOT something I would brag about, lol). It's just that for the past several years, while Hubby's mobility decreased, I picked up most of what he did around the house and yard so that by the time he went into the hospital last spring, I had been pretty much doing everything for a couple of years. I felt guilty if I found myself Just Sitting, because there was always something productive I could be doing. Then, when he was in the hospital those horrible four months, I added a daily visit (weekends: two a day) to the hospital on top of all the house stuff and job. And of course the first few months since he passed away, I've had a few business things to take care of, and to begin to try to figure out what my life will be like now, and in the future.
I've been striving so hard to reach certain goals. One was, get the house cleaned thoroughly, upstairs and down, and get caught up with the laundry. OK. That's done. I've got a baseline to re-start a cleaning schedule so that it never has to wear me completely out. I looked around the place Saturday morning and was a little taken aback: There was nothing much to clean! I went down to the laundry room. There was nothing much to launder! I went up to the den and looked at the hosuehold books. There were no payments due, no money stuff to deal with! It was Saturday morning! Whatever would I do all weekend???
I pledged to myself to Loaf. Read. Snooze. Eat. Loaf Some More. It felt VERY strange. It felt good. I woke up this morning more rested and relaxed than I can ever remember on a Monday morning. And it occurs to me. Life doesn't have to be all stress and pressure. I don't have to constantly feel rushed, obliged, booked, inadequate, behind, tense. Man. That's going to take some getting used to.
I spent the weekend repeatedly making myself sit down and do nothing - well, sit down and read for pleasure.
In the months since my husband died I've kept a small but steady series of balls up in the air. I have a list of Things to Do, large projects and small ones, long-term and short-term, for myself, for others, about the house, finances, disposal of things of my husband's in appropriate manners...I keep two or three of them going at a time.
It's not Avoidance (of the pain of grief: in evidence I offer the fact that I do feel it daily, write in my diary about it, talk about it, sometimes wallow in it for short bursts), (of loneliness: I have no troubles with being alone, but I do miss my husband terribly. I "get along" fine on my own, otherwise).
It's just that there are a couple of overarching concerns: #1 that I clear out what I don't need as soon as I am able, timewise, financially, or emotionally so that if anything happens to me, my son isn't stuck dealing with all that excess. God knows he'll have enough to deal with just with the stuff I want to keep and will use! #2 that I maintain the house & yard in good condition for future sale, most probably when I die or if I ever have to move elsewhere.
But last weekend I'd gotten to a kind of coasting place. The two or three Current Projects, I have to wait for others' actions or inputs. I know better than to start another one, that way madness lies. I was caught up with my financial info and obligations; the house was clean; I had no outside committments. It was time to practice Relaxing. Loafing. Sitting around. Reading for pleasure for long periods of time.
I've gotten out of that habit. I don't say that bragging about how hard I work (anyone who knows me that working hard is NOT something I would brag about, lol). It's just that for the past several years, while Hubby's mobility decreased, I picked up most of what he did around the house and yard so that by the time he went into the hospital last spring, I had been pretty much doing everything for a couple of years. I felt guilty if I found myself Just Sitting, because there was always something productive I could be doing. Then, when he was in the hospital those horrible four months, I added a daily visit (weekends: two a day) to the hospital on top of all the house stuff and job. And of course the first few months since he passed away, I've had a few business things to take care of, and to begin to try to figure out what my life will be like now, and in the future.
I've been striving so hard to reach certain goals. One was, get the house cleaned thoroughly, upstairs and down, and get caught up with the laundry. OK. That's done. I've got a baseline to re-start a cleaning schedule so that it never has to wear me completely out. I looked around the place Saturday morning and was a little taken aback: There was nothing much to clean! I went down to the laundry room. There was nothing much to launder! I went up to the den and looked at the hosuehold books. There were no payments due, no money stuff to deal with! It was Saturday morning! Whatever would I do all weekend???
I pledged to myself to Loaf. Read. Snooze. Eat. Loaf Some More. It felt VERY strange. It felt good. I woke up this morning more rested and relaxed than I can ever remember on a Monday morning. And it occurs to me. Life doesn't have to be all stress and pressure. I don't have to constantly feel rushed, obliged, booked, inadequate, behind, tense. Man. That's going to take some getting used to.
Friday, March 16, 2007
In my 20's, I used to yearn - actively - for perspective. I'd be in the middle of some crisis - personal, employment-related, as a mother, a wife, a girlfriend (the latter two never overlapped, I hasten to add) - and in agony I would recall one particular incident when I was maybe 6, staying overnight with my grandma and grandpa (my dad's folks) when I got sick. Vomiting, diarrhea, the whole bit. And my grandma was so placid and competent and gave me such a golden feeling of being cared for with love - and just knowing what to do and what to expect - that even at that young age, I remember thinking: She's been through this raising four kids and it's no big deal and I will be OK. Perspective was the word didn't know when I was six.
I'm fifty-six now, and I finally do have more perspective. I raised a son - as best I knew how - and he's turned out to be a fine man, for which I give him most of the credit. I've been through a divorce, and now I'm learning about widowhood. All those years and joys and mistakes and learning and striving and agonizing have an accumulated weight that seems to stabilize this little boat bobbing on the waves.
I've learned that divorce brings lots else in addition to freedom - including never-vanishing regrets. What I know now is that there are armies of counselors who would have loved to help us, if only we'd know there were out there, and if only we hadn't been so afraid of self-examination. We may have been able to weather the problems, and even have emerged stronger and better people, if we'd known. Our son paid the price. Regrets.
In losing my second husband and in the months of his suffering before he died, I learned that all those things I'd agonized over for so long - all those points of stress and subjects of discord, all the resentments and power struggles - they were nothing - nothing, compared to the depth and strength of our love. They burned away and disappeared like toilet paper in the blast of concern, then fear, then horror when at last it became clear that he wouldn't be coming home. I consider myself so lucky to have been able to let him know in those months, by my actions and words, how much I loved him. I have no regrets on that count. He knew.
In addition to the many things I've learned through this experience, about my husband, myself, and us - I've learned that we have - I have - the best family and friends on Earth. They supported and loved us every step of that cruel path, and continue to do so. I lost my dear husband, but because of family and friends, I count myself among the luckiest of human beings.
Gratitude is the great antidote to so many habits of thinking and feeling that could twist and stain and cripple my life. Resentment, envy, feelings of inadequacy, fear - all of these are parts of my personality and - [checking...] - yes, daily I grapple with every one of them. But thanks to my husband and years of honest effort on my part, I have the tools that help me work through them. I cannot ever take it for granted that I'll succeed. Every rearing of one of those ugly heads requires my serious and honest confrontation. I don't imagine that I am always - or ever - 100% successful. But this blessed perspective helps me keep both my successes and failures to a human - not an overwhelming -scale. I have learned to judge when it's appropriate to forgive myself, and when I need to work harder.
It's funny - I had no idea what I was doing, in my 20's, in the thrashings of emotion and usually self-inflicted crisis - but in yearning for perspective, I was wishing for exactly the right thing.
I am so, so lucky.
I'm fifty-six now, and I finally do have more perspective. I raised a son - as best I knew how - and he's turned out to be a fine man, for which I give him most of the credit. I've been through a divorce, and now I'm learning about widowhood. All those years and joys and mistakes and learning and striving and agonizing have an accumulated weight that seems to stabilize this little boat bobbing on the waves.
I've learned that divorce brings lots else in addition to freedom - including never-vanishing regrets. What I know now is that there are armies of counselors who would have loved to help us, if only we'd know there were out there, and if only we hadn't been so afraid of self-examination. We may have been able to weather the problems, and even have emerged stronger and better people, if we'd known. Our son paid the price. Regrets.
In losing my second husband and in the months of his suffering before he died, I learned that all those things I'd agonized over for so long - all those points of stress and subjects of discord, all the resentments and power struggles - they were nothing - nothing, compared to the depth and strength of our love. They burned away and disappeared like toilet paper in the blast of concern, then fear, then horror when at last it became clear that he wouldn't be coming home. I consider myself so lucky to have been able to let him know in those months, by my actions and words, how much I loved him. I have no regrets on that count. He knew.
In addition to the many things I've learned through this experience, about my husband, myself, and us - I've learned that we have - I have - the best family and friends on Earth. They supported and loved us every step of that cruel path, and continue to do so. I lost my dear husband, but because of family and friends, I count myself among the luckiest of human beings.
Gratitude is the great antidote to so many habits of thinking and feeling that could twist and stain and cripple my life. Resentment, envy, feelings of inadequacy, fear - all of these are parts of my personality and - [checking...] - yes, daily I grapple with every one of them. But thanks to my husband and years of honest effort on my part, I have the tools that help me work through them. I cannot ever take it for granted that I'll succeed. Every rearing of one of those ugly heads requires my serious and honest confrontation. I don't imagine that I am always - or ever - 100% successful. But this blessed perspective helps me keep both my successes and failures to a human - not an overwhelming -scale. I have learned to judge when it's appropriate to forgive myself, and when I need to work harder.
It's funny - I had no idea what I was doing, in my 20's, in the thrashings of emotion and usually self-inflicted crisis - but in yearning for perspective, I was wishing for exactly the right thing.
I am so, so lucky.
Wednesday, November 15, 2006
I didn't realize it'd been so long since I posted. Some "daily" blog, eh? Oh, well.
I haven't kept up with the 1667 words/day required to finish NaNoWriMo at 50,000 words at the stroke of midnight, November 30th, but I've kept my hand in; I can still do it if I write 2,000 a day until then. Will I? I hope so. I could if I really set my mind to it. But even if I don't, it will have been well worth doing. It's reminded me what fun, and what solace, writing daily can be. Fiction, I mean. I keep at least one, currently two, daily journals going always, but fiction is different. I have to make up the incidents and characters in fiction; not so my journals. Fiction writing challenges me to dig deeper into my imagination, throw myself curves and fling myself aloft to catch them. Working at NaNo this year has also reminded me that I CAN write daily. Why not? What a loaded question, inviting scattershot of excuses. But now I'm reminded not only that I can do it, but also why I'd want to. Time well spent!
I haven't kept up with the 1667 words/day required to finish NaNoWriMo at 50,000 words at the stroke of midnight, November 30th, but I've kept my hand in; I can still do it if I write 2,000 a day until then. Will I? I hope so. I could if I really set my mind to it. But even if I don't, it will have been well worth doing. It's reminded me what fun, and what solace, writing daily can be. Fiction, I mean. I keep at least one, currently two, daily journals going always, but fiction is different. I have to make up the incidents and characters in fiction; not so my journals. Fiction writing challenges me to dig deeper into my imagination, throw myself curves and fling myself aloft to catch them. Working at NaNo this year has also reminded me that I CAN write daily. Why not? What a loaded question, inviting scattershot of excuses. But now I'm reminded not only that I can do it, but also why I'd want to. Time well spent!
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