Food for Thought

I don't want to eat.  

I don't want to sound like a whiny baby, but I try to be honest on my blog and this is honest.  I was in a car accident yesterday.  I bumped my head.  I'm fine, and my doc and the EMTs checked me out--my health is okay except a little bruise and low blood pressure that's making me light-headed, medical is all taken care of, insurance guys are on the case with the car.  But the red car is totaled.  And it was a newish car, so we still owe a lot on it and its gone just like that.  

I had my cry.  All done with that.  But now comes the staring part, the unsure what to do part, and nothing in the fridge or freezer looks good.  I feel like I've been on the phone for days.  Weird things make me smile.  The idea of a purple PT Cruiser with paisley decals parked in the driveway and my DH's "you didn't" expression, and then me saying just kidding--waving a wand and it vanishes like smoke.  Walking on the shore of the Columbia River, playing with the dogs, the whole family together, sandy toes, artful smears of river mud on our faces.  Watching swallows from the deck (I actually did that for a while today--there's a couple dozen out there right now.)  Imagining the red car is fine, still in the driveway, and that I can just drive it down into town and pick up a prescription if I want.  A magic cloud with a voice like a violin drifting down and with three words making the repairs on the car of death (called that because a mouse died in the ventilation system and stank there forever) a tenth of the quote I got today.  Thinking about fixing up the No-Go and driving it again.  Starting a new job.  Being at the writer's class on the coast.  Picking up my DH at the airport and everything is done, all good, nothing to see here citizen.

I'm going to make myself eat something.  I don't know what.  Something with protein.  I'm just so tired.  Beaten.  Some things aren't covered by insurance.  We'll be paying for a car that doesn't exist.  I can't fix this.  I just have to do the best I can.  I have all kinds of plans.  Maybe tomorrow I can make some of them into reality, but for now, I think I should have some fish and veggies and drink lots of water and maybe write about someone who has way worse problems than me, and a lot more resilience. 

Still Sore

I'm still sore, but recovering.  Once I get moving, I'm fine.  It's just the getting moving in the first place after, say, sitting for five seconds.  That's way too much staying still, apparently, and the legs refuse to work without shouting chants like "hell no we won't go!" and waving banners and generally putting up a fuss.

Tough, I say.  Time to get back to work.

Oh, and you legs are not getting fed today.  It's a fast day.  I don't want to hear anymore whining--this happens every other day, it's not like it's a surprise or anything.

Huge to-do list today, and I was tempted to put it online, and then I thought no, it would be boring and dumb, and then I thought hey, accountability, and then I thought no one gives a darn about accountability, and then I thought no one cares about all my personal stuff anyway so why do I bother blogging, which wrapped me back around full circle to the people who are at least vaguely interested in my life check in here and might be interested in a dumb list so might as well post it:

done Workout

done Redraft cover art so the shell looks less like a spine and the ear is lower

done Mail box 

         and manuscripts

done Make photocopies onto kewl paper

Dishes

Laundry (especially wash bed sheets)

Start packing for Norwescon

Finalize some sort of itinerary for Ireland

Pick a castle and book a night there

Build twelve front and back book covers from photocopies

done Buy office supplies

Practice reading Inner Skull for Norwescon

Pack bag for workout tomorrow (decided to skip workout to get stuff done)

done! Garden if there's time (yeah, right)

done Write after dinner

done Ack, almost forgot--shop for my mom's birthday present

I'll mark things I got done if I have time, or relist tomorrow so y'all can see how lame I am.  Today, that's literally lame.  [limps off to start list]

Here's the final (reverse) image of the cover I'm doing--it's meant to be coloring book style so that people can personalize their book covers.  My scan bed is out of touch with my confuter, so this is a photobook image.  Just as well ... less likely that the author of Russet Noon will steal it like she stole the cover art of the book she will fail to produce.  Oops, was I snarky just now?  Oh well.

I'm leaving the rest of the list for tomorrow.

Chaos and Sunshine

I heard the dogs whining.  When the dogs whine, it's usually the goats or the dobies across the way.  I was in the middle of a phone call, so I dawdled, until finally I got my butt upstairs.  

Goats.  Goats everywhere.  Well, near the barn, anyway.  Gah.

I apologized to my DH and headed out in mud boots.  The so-called cunning plan was to get one dog on a leash, head out there, and herd the herd back into their enclosure, followed by an investigation to try to figure out how they got out.  Finn sat tidily and calmly, so he got the coveted leash.  Now, normally, I can squeeze through the fence and through a combination of mild expletives, snarls, barks, shouts, shoves and admonitions, I can get me and just one dog out the gate.

Not today.  

Beast rammed past me with surprising force.  The goats scattered.

Great.

I shouted at him, but the airedale is strong in this one.  Goats climbed onto the stack of straw we have on our archery range.  Goats circled and faced him off with horns.  Scooter disappeared into the barn, and Beast went after him.  A second later Scooter came out, Beast appeared to bound onto him, and Scooter went down.  And lay still.

My heart leapt into my throat, just like in the cliche'.  I managed to snag Beast.  It was like a fight, but luckily he didn't use his teeth on me.  I knew if I scared him enough, he might panic and bite.  My throat was raw and I couldn't get enough air to fuel the effort of getting a very powerful dog so he can't slip away while simultaneously getting the chain collar off another dog that's trying to help and get that collar on him.  I think it took about four minutes.  

For the record, four minutes of giving it your all sucks.  

I finally succeeded.  Finn is good with the goats, so he was fine off leash around them.  He trotted into the pasture and started a perimeter patrol.  I couldn't take Beast over to what was left of Scooter--I had to get him back to the dog run.  I couldn't get the thought out of my head.  I have to shoot my dog.

No, I'll adopt him out.  Can I do that?  I don't think so.  What if he hurt a cat, a dog ... maybe an owner with no animals, maybe if I put out a plea--

Negotiations of a desperate mind.  I got him in and started back toward the barn.

And Scooter, the little butthead, stood up.  He was fine.

Fainting goat.  He must have fainting goat in him.  He overloaded and collapsed.  He was down, oh, I don't know how long.  Four minutes?  Another long four minutes, the kind where you have death in your hands and you don't want it.

So relieved on so many levels I was on the verge of tears, I looked Scooter over.  He didn't have so much as a scratch.  He wasn't limping.  He was fine.  Beast didn't hurt him.  He didn't hurt him.  He just scared him.  It still wasn't good, but it wasn't a death sentence.

I got the goats in, still relieved by my near miss.  Next time, the good dog gets to go in through the house.  It'll be like an air lock.  If one or both get by me, they might trash the upstairs, but they won't get out to the goats.  Brian would be fine, but Beast ... Beast was born and bred to chase deer, and goats are the next best thing.

Exhausted, I gasped my way back to the house, tasting blood in my throat, trembling from adrenaline.  It took fifteen minutes or more for me to feel like I might not pass out.  My DH called back and we talked while I sipped a shot of Navan to soothe my throat, and then I went back out.

I found what I thought was the hole, plugged it, dealt with another weak area for good measure, and thought that was that.  I was filthy, smelled like wet dog, mud under my fingernails--and it was sunny and gorgeously warm, beautiful in only the way a day can be after a near miss.  Time to garden.  I planted a tree (not the Christmas tree--I'll need help to get it off the deck) and some bulbs I'd left out in the weather just before the storm (all of them except a few anemones looked good, and I bet even the really pathetic anemones will be fine too,) did some weeding, placed a couple of edging boulders, leveled a couple sections of path.  About that time the goats got out again.  This time I had help from the kids.  I managed to notice that the truck gate was leaning.  Aha!  Andrea and I got it tied back in place.  No more goat escapes.

Chaos and sunshine.  It was a very good day, but I'll be sore tomorrow.  I feel it coming on already.

Oops, I pushed my character and he broke

I'm still feeling yucky today.  Hopefully this will lead to long term betterness but for now I'm sore and feeling bloated and low energy.  Up until now I've been getting up early and getting lots of work done.  That's out the window.  

But I'm still writing.  Thank goodness I can do that while in sitting-on-butt mode.  Today is transcribe day.  I'm wondering if the stuff I hand wrote last night will read well on the screen.  Yet another opportunity to edit by looking at the prose from a different angle, though personally I don't care to edit on unfinished novels.  Then (yay!) I can launch into the next chapter.  I ended the last chapter with a bad thing happening and I'm eager to get writing on the consequences.  This will push all the characters to their limits.

There are times when writers push their characters too hard, though, so that they snap and then just curl up in the fetal position and do nothing or thrash around uselessly.  That becomes annoying to a reader fast, especially if they're smarter than the character on the screen.  It turns into a one-sided shouting match.  What do you mean there's nothing you can do?!  I can think of three things off the top of my head and I don't even care if you do any of those, just do something!

That isn't a usual problem, at least not with beginning writers.  They tend to go soft on their precious babies.  But when the challenge is well beyond what the character can handle, it's just as bad for the reader.  Now, this is different from a character being momentarily overwhelmed.  That can be very, very fun.  But eventually (and sooner rather than later) the reader wants the characters to find their feet, regroup, come up with a new strategy, or even just run away, so long as they're active on the page.  And if the characters come back stronger and smarter and overcome the challenge that originally knocked them on their asses, that's sweet.

Lecture (rant) of the day is over.  Use the rest of your classtime for homework or free-time quiet activities.  Thanks for listening!

I didn't get into details about the storm the other day because I was feeling so yucky.  I'm still feeling pretty yucky, but better.  I'm not looking forward to sleeping tonight as last night I woke up in a nasty sweat.  Sleep came in brief snatches after that as I shivered, sweated, shivered some more, slept fitfully, and sweated even more.  I put on a long sleeve shirt and kept a towel on hand to mop up after myself.  I'd say it's an impending chrone thing, but I'm just a tad bit too young (not by too terribly much, but not within the standard age range for my family) and also I had someone ahead of me with the same illness go through the same thing.  He sweated for four nights.  Man, I hope it doesn't take four nights for me to get done with it.

Anyway, the storm:

Dove gray skies, distant sounds of thunder

Silver boiling into black

Flashes

Standing on the deck 

Eyes reflect jagged bolts that span miles

Funnel cloud orange skies to the west

Rain, light, then pouring, then dumping

It doesn't rain here like this

But it does

Then hail comes

A step back

Heavy hail, thunder hail

The storm is overhead

Trees sway, branches snap

Leaves shred

Dogs running, whining, howling, eyes wild

A rescue is launched into the storm

Prying up deck boards

A trapped white dog scrabbles to freedom

Dogs in the house, running, trembling

Wet animal hair and the scent of a fresh clearcut

Spruce, maple, shattered flowers

Hanging baskets sway, filled with white

No birds, no life, no sound but storm

Hail spills like river rock onto skin and bone

Salvage all we can, all we think to salvage

Fill a glass again and again with hail and whiskey

The thunder and hail pound music on the world

Until, softly

The rain comes again, softly

Thunder, long thunder

Rumbles into the night, a long goodbye

The black and gold caravan rolls into the distance and is gone.

I started to make a list and it got kinda poetic on me.  Please excuse the amateur.  

Time to settle down, I think.  I hope I don't sweat for hours again tonight.

Handwriting and Butterfly Wings

I'm getting better, but after a day of trying to do just a couple of things (I selected laundry and vacuuming) I'm all tuckered out.  I've found that sitting at the computer isn't conducive to writing in my condition because muscle soreness makes sitting in the kneeling chair uncomfortable, so I'm going to give a notebook and a good ol' fashioned pen a try.  I haven't hand written in a long while.  I'm looking forward to it.

I went for a short walk in the garden today to survey the storm damage.  A lot of annuals were crushed, though none look like they were fatally hammered by the hail.  At a distance the garden looks pretty normal, but when you look more closely you see torn leaves, stem ends where leaves and buds used to be, broken branches, and debris all over the ground.  The debris is the most interesting part.  The wind was pretty fierce and so leaves from all different kinds of plants are mixed together.

My vote for prettiest debris:  the torn petals from the tree peony look like butterfly wings on the ground.  Sad but beautiful.

Llama Trials

The doc said I'd get worse before I'd get better.  Man, he must be psychic.

My voice is still shot.  My temperature is going up, not down.  I'm getting a few little red rashy spots.  I'm the picture of yuckiness.  But, as bad as I feel, I'm still not as bad as I was with the dread flu when we came back from Victoria a couple of years back.  Anyway, I can still dance the dance of sickness superiority (I think) because my temp hasn't even gotten close to the temps the boy and the man got when they got sick, aaaaand I have a productive cough.

(Oooo!  Ahhh!)

Yes, it's true, the boy and the man can't seem to manage a productive cough, while the girl and I are practicing for the llama spitting trials later this year.

Well, I guess I'd better get back to full time suffering.  Be well out there!

The sickness spreads, and paint geekiness

It's official now.  The girl is sick too.  

I went to the doc yesterday and my lungs are clear (so far) and I don't appear to have secondary infections going on.  So, despite the fact that I'm ill, have an off again, on again fever and sound like I've traded my vocal chords for sandpaper, I can still declare:

My immune system is mighty.  Here me roar!

Actually, you can hear me roar later, after I'm done with the laryngitis thingy.  I'm supposed to rest my voice as much as possible.  Which, btw, for those of you not in the know, whispering is as hard if not harder on your voice than talking.  Don't whisper if you have laryngitis.  Write a note.  Point.  Shake your head no no and point again more firmly.  That.  That right there.  Yes!  No, not that, that.  Oh, I give up, I'll get it myself.

In painting news I plan to get some new paints.  I've been working with the same palette for a long time (well, about four years which is not that long I guess) and, although I'm sure there's much more to learn about these colors, I've learned to trust their properties, how they mix,and I know how they lay beside each other.  It's time for some new colors to shake things up.

My 'normal' palette is primarily composed of Schmincke aquarelles (watercolors) with some M. Grahams.  I use vanadium yellow, gamboge, vermillion, cadmium red, madder red dark, quinacridone violet, ultramarine blue, cerulean blue and viridian as my 'primary' colors and yellow ochre, raw sienna, raw umber, and Hooker's green as my 'earth' colors.  My earth palette is pathetically limited and I can't paint with it in a functional manner.  Although I don't have black or gray I haven't missed them.  I mix them.

Anyway, I went to Art's Desire to snoop around.  I was almost out of quincridone violet and viridian so I picked up a tube of each (all of these are in M. Grahams, a local company, which I'm moving over to away from Schmincke) and I got pthalocyanine green because it looked useful to me.  I'd also been thinking about how prussian blue would fit into my earth palette, and since it was right there ....  After some hemming and hawing I also picked up burnt umber, a nice, red-leaning brown.  

For 'normal' colors I'd like to add new gamboge because as a yellow it has more range and interest than regular gamboge.  I'm also picking up perylene green, which, I admit, may make me lazy about mixing my blacks.  I'm probably going to phase out Hunter's green.  Although Hunter's is an artist's standard, it hasn't been very useful to me with my current palette and when I dip into it as a straight color or for mixing I'm usually disappointed with how flat it is.  With the new additions I may change my mind.  I have until the end of the tube to decide.  For now, though, it's on the 'need not restock' list.  I also at some point picked up chrome yellow.  I never use the darned thing.  What was I thinking?  

But the colors I'm really excited about are the Daniel Smith Primateks.  These so-called mineral colors show a lot of promise.  This overview on Handprint discusses some of the strengths and weaknesses of these colors.  One negative for Handprint is a positive for me--I paint very dark, and so the dark nature of the mineral hues will serve to my advantage.  I'm also excited to see how the precipitation will work on yupo.  Will it do too much?  Behave itself?  Go wild?  Disappoint?  Can't wait to try.  My choices are blue apatite, sodalite, piemontite and bloodstone.  With these colors, I think my earth palette will become at least as fun to play with as my primary palette.  I can expand as an artist and play with some grown up colors.  

One thing is certain.  My normal palette (the actual palette rather than the colors I have) is too small.  Either that or I have to break down and get a second one, separating the earth from the primaries.  I can no longer foist my earth colors into mixing pockets.  I'll need all the mixing pockets now.  Interestingly enough, although I hadn't planned on it, I'll end up with ten primary colors (replacing gamboge with new gamboge) and twelve earth colors (if prussian blue works out in that palette--it may end up fitting better with the primaries.)  This will be the first time I'll have more colors in the earth palette than the primary.  I think it will work really well with the subject matter I choose, but I won't know until I get there.  

So today I'll paint some with what I have and see what happens.  First thing, got to do some paint swatches and see where I'm at, and then it's onward and forward from there.

At least the camera is working

Rory gave me a clue, so now my camera is operational again.  Yay!  Just in time for serious gardening season.  It's late, but not too late, to weed like crazy in hopes to limit weed seed generation and spread.  We're high enough on the hill that the dandelions haven't turned into puffballs yet, but I noticed that lower down there's lots of yellow and white in the meadows and along the roads.  Other weeds are just getting wound up so if you have a garden, or even just a few containers, get out there and get to work.  Locally the soil is the perfect texture--not too hard and dry, not so wet that everything clumps into yucky globs.

It's too early for tomatoes, peppers, beans and other warm crops to go into the ground, though they can go into containers.  The air is the right temp but the soil isn't, yet.  But just about anything that isn't a tropical or sub-tropical dainty can get planted.  I spent the whole day on hands and knees filling the white garden beds with sweet alyssum, pansies, wave petunias and snapdragons.  When they all fill in it should look really sharp.

I've identified the mystery hummers.  There are two female rufous hummingbirds as well as the lone male we've seen so far.  They're fearless--too fearless, as I saw one humming around my hanging flower baskets sedately dodging Huntress as she leapt repeatedly for the bird.  I chased Huntress off before she got it, but the kids reported that Wizard got one a couple of weeks ago.  So we had four, and are down to three unless the captured one managed to get away.  Their numbers will probably grow as we warm up.  We're keeping the cats in most of the time, which will help, I hope.

While I was adding bird seed to one of the feeders I noticed there was a pine siskin that didn't want to fly off.  It just hopped around.  It looks like a male to me, and too bright to be an immature one.  Maybe it's sick?  The pine siskins let me get very, very close and often watch me from a couple of feet away in the tree when I fill their feeders, but I've never seen one hop around on the ground like this before.  If he's sick he's not going to make it, not with all the predators around, even if we keep the cats in continuously for the next several days.  He's so cute, it makes me sad.  But maybe he's fine.  He stayed in the area long enough for me to get my camera, come back, and take pics of him, and then I decided to stay away from him so he didn't get stressed.  Unfortunately that means I don't know if he eventually flew off, so I'll be thinking about him worried that he's suffering.  I don't know if the dirty bill means anything.  I think it's just cracked nyjer seeds.  There may be an illness going around, because I've heard others mention finding more dead birds than usual, especially pine siskins.  I've also found a towhee with no apparent cause of death visible on it, and the dogs have ended up with an unusual number of dead birds in their clutches this year.

I'm all stressed, depressed (not real bad, just gloomy) and hormonal right now.  Chocolate is helping.  Maybe I'll have some red wine tonight too.  Last glass for a while, because I'll probably need ibuprofen in the morning and I never mix alcohol and ibuprofen.  It's too hard on the liver.

Pass the Epsom Salt, please

I've been working like a maniac in the garden again (I guess there's a case to be made for writing 'still' rather than 'again'.) Today I put in about ten hours solid. It's looking up out there, but man, there's still so much to do and I can't keep this pace up. So now it's damage control, sort of. There's really no damage when I give up on stuff--just weeds move in and I don't get all the seeds planted that I want to.

Most seeds, with a few exceptions, can hang out for a year or three and get planted during a different year. The germination rate drops to be sure, and you have to store them carefully (cool-ish temps, dry, dark) but otherwise they're a low-maintenance carry over to the next year. Less seed to buy next year, I guess, but I'm a bit disappointed with myself. I mean, come on, if I'd kept up my mental schedule of getting at least one type of seed in the ground every dry, workable soil day once the growing season kicked in I'd be golden right now.

Man, I really want to get corn in this year. Corn doesn't keep very well.

Kami scowls at the computer, trying to think of a reasonable way to get corn in this year.

Kami thinks about a tractor.

Kami's scowl at the computer deepens as she considers the expense of renting a tractor.

Kami thinks about fresh corn grown in her own garden, pesticide free, sweet, and those tall, handsome stalks whispering in the wind.

Kami thinks more about a tractor.

Kami looks at her wallet.

Hey, hand digging isn't that bad, is it?

Ugh. Pass the epsom salt, please. I need to take a hot bath and not think about corn. Ugh! No corn, no corn, no corn--corn corn corn corn corn corn Corn!

I guess we'll have to rent a tractor. Or get the roto-tiller started. Shake shake shake, shake the corn field!