Down with the Sickness

For those of you who normally follow my sporadic blog posts, you may have noticed I neglected this month's IWSG day. I got hit with the plague, okay, maybe not quite that, but that wicked cold/flu hybrid thing from hell. I've been mostly in zombie mode since last Tuesday when I contracted this lovely condition from my husband who picked it up from someone at one of his gigs the weekend before. And now my daughter has it too.

PSA time, if you're feeling like hell, or like you're coming down with something, for the love of all that's holy, stay home and keep your germs to yourself. Do not go out and infect the musicians who then have to cancel their upcoming gigs and possibly the couple hundred other people who will be in the germ zone with you. As much as we love to see everyone, that's just not a cool thing to do.

So yes, we've both been sick all week. Much nasty coughing, heavy chest congestion, many rounds human furnace vs. chills, headaches, and so much more. I left my bed for a couple hours yesterday to go be a zombie on the couch. Today I've mostly been in my comfy chair. Not that I'm writing like I want to be, my head hurts to much for that, but I've been getting a lot of things cleared off my Netflix watch list. So hey, that's something I can do with one eye shut and a hand pressing on my temple.

According to my husband's recovery rate, I've got about two more days of this before any major improvement. Mmmm goody.

Stay tuned for a guest post from Nick Wilford later this week with his new book release. Until then, I hope you stay healthy!

Allergies and Author Events

Where have I been?

Writing, editing, rewriting, more editing and pondering plot fixes. I was being so productive I forgot to come up for air and post here. That's sort of a good thing,  I guess?

Then I was busy getting ready for the Muskegon edition of my Michigan Authors at the Lakeshore event in the Lakeshore Art Festival. That took up all of last weekend. That was a great time. The weather was awesome. There were crowds of people and lots of crafts, art, and books to see.

Now I'm gearing up for the Holland edition, which will be held at the Park Theatre, right across from Art in the Park, on August 4. This one is even bigger than the Muskegon event, as far as authors to organize. There will be 34 of us, a theatre full of books. It should be a lot of fun...once I get past all the organizing.

Right after that, on August 11, I'll be at the Manistee Book Expo, held in the Ramsdell Theatre.

In the midst of organizing and writing, allergy season hit hard. The weather has been hot and dry, creating all kinds of dust and whatever else sets off the explosions in my head. Between blowing my nose, sleeping the yuck away, and the way groovy spacy feeling of allergy pills, my productivity is down to a dismal percentage.

So that's the state of things at the moment. I'm still alive, floating along (sometimes, it actually feels like floating), and attempting to get things done.

I hope summer is treating you well. Relax, be happy, and enjoy a good book.

This is a test of the Emergency Snark Harnessing System

There are days in working e-commerce that sorely test my Emergency Snark Harnessing System. Those days make up about 250 days out of the year.

Please, for the love of all that's holy, people, I know the internet is full of shiny, but read the description before you take the time to hunt down contact information and ask questions. I'd love to say there are no stupid questions, but yes, yes there are. A lot of them. And almost all of them can be answered in the privacy of your own home and head by just reading the description of the item you're looking to purchase.

The fact about these that amazes me most is that people take the time to find the contact button and type a question, but can't take the time to read the few lines of information that are right there below the item photo. See photo, want thing, but all these...words. Bah. I'll just ask.

----

Let's say I'm selling a 8" x 12" poster of a pink flower in a white setting that is described as printed on a self-adhesive paper so no frame, putty, or pins are required. It is shown applied on a blue wall in a bedroom.

----

Some of my recent favorites from the trying-my-patience file and the responses the ESHS did not allow me to send:

I really like this poster. Is it self adhesive?
Seriously?

Does this poster glow in the dark?
Does it say it does? Is it shown glowing in the dark? Umm no. So why would you think it might?

Is this a poster?
*headdesk*

What size is the bed in this room? I have a queen bed and am wondering how the poster would look in relation to that.
Do you not own a measuring device of any kind? Did you not consider that this would be so much easier to hold up to YOUR wall in the room with YOUR bed?

I have a green wall, do you think the poster will look good on that?
I am not in your house. I do not know what your wall or room looks like, and I'll hazard a guess my design tastes are different than yours. Do YOU think it will look good? I'm going to say yes because I want to pay my bills.

Will this poster work in a kitchen?
No, the adhesive is specially formulated to only adhere to bedroom walls.

How big is the poster?
Come on. You're not even trying. They are the only numbers in the entire three sentence description.

Will this poster dent my wall?
Does paper normally dent your wall? What are your walls made of that this is even a question?

How would I apply this poster to my wall? Does it require adhesive or pins?
Do you require reading glasses?

I have a frame that I picked up at a garage sale. It was gold but I didn't like it, so I painted it black. It turned out really nice. Last weekend I hung it on my living room wall, but it needs something. I think this poster is just the thing I'm looking for. Will it fit in my frame?
While I might enjoy reading about projects regarding refinishing and repurposing, I get my fix on blogs focusing on this stuff in my free time. Also, look around. Am I standing beside you with a tape measure? No. Have you provided measurements of the frame, which would answer your own question? No. Did you read the measurements of the poster that I clearly provided in the description? Again, no.

I would like a quote on a custom poster using the poem I have provided. I don't know how big I want it yet, but how much would it be?
Well, somewhere between $2 and $4,000. Get back to me when you look at your space and get an idea of how big you want it.

I want to order the poster you have listed. Please make it custom for me.
*crickets*  I'm supposed to know what you want customized, how?

I would like to order this poster, but I want it with the pink flower that is shown. How do I order that?
Uhhh, click the buy button? I don't know where you've shopped before, but we typically don't  randomly change the items from what is shown and then ship them out for giggles.

Can I order this poster with a different background instead of the blue one?
That is a wall. On that wall is the poster that is being sold. Think about it for two more seconds and the answer will become clear.

(On a customer note on an already purchased pink flower poster order waiting to be fulfilled): Please make this poster 16 x 24 and of a photo of a golden retriever playing in the grass. Thanks.
Sooo, you purchased an item and paid for it, but it's not at all what you actually want, and I'm supposed to provide art I don't have and double the size for no additional charge. Does this tactic work anywhere else? No? Amazing. It doesn't work here either.

Reading: It's important. Except for that last one. That was just amazingly assumptive and fully deserving of snark.

Patience is a virtue and fiction saves lives

While I'd love to say that I write for a living, I don't. I have a day (and sometimes night and weekend) job, that while it does allow me to do lots of creative things that I really enjoy, mostly that pays the bills and comes with it's share of headaches. Many of those headaches involve writing and reading either in product descriptions or email exchanges, so I'm going to share a few in the hopes that even one of you won't be that person.

Let's say, for the sake of an easy, across-the-board example, I'm selling blankets. I create what I think to straight-forward product description using as few words and sentences as possible because I understand we are all busy and have short attention spans:

Queen size Blanket

Soft, fleece blanket. Fits Queen size bed.  Available in blue (shown) red, white, beige, black and grey. You will be shipped a blue blanket (shown), unless you specify a different color when ordering.

Ships Priority mail within the United States and First Class Mail internationally. Actual shipping rates are shown after adding product to your cart and entering your address.


These are kind of questions I deal with every day, which are the reason I kill so many people in fiction:

1. What is this blanket made of?
2. I like the vase in the photo, where did you get it?
3. What color is the blanket in the photo?
4. I received my order, but was expecting a poster of a blue blanket on a bed like you show. What am I supposed to do with a stupid blanket?
5. I received my blanket in the mail today, but you smashed the box to bits and now it's unusable. How soon can you deliver another one to me in a better box?
6. My order wasn't shipped UPS like I asked for in the notes I put on the order, why?
7. I received my blanket today, but it doesn't fit my king size bed. What are you going to do about it?
8. I wanted a red blanket, but you shipped me a blue one. It says it comes in different colors, but I never saw anywhere to put what color I wanted. How do I get a red one?
9. How much is shipping?
10. How tall is the bed in the photo?
11. Can you show me what that blanket looks like on four poster bed?
12. I received the blanket it in the mail today and when I went to use it, I saw that the disposable bag the blanket came in was wrinkled. Your product is crap. Can I get a refund?
13. I didn't get my blanket that I ordered eight months ago and just realized never arrived. When I went to check the tracking, I see that you shipped it to my old address. I moved nine months ago, but my order shows my old address for some reason. Can you reroute my package to me at my new address?
 14. I didn't get my package and when I went to check my order, I realized I switched to numbers in my address around, and now tracking shows it delivered to someone else. Can you send me a new package? I already paid shipping when I ordered.
15. I ordered a blue blanket like in your photo, but when it arrived, it's dark blue, not baby blue like what I was expecting. What are you going to do about your misleading description and sending me the color I wanted?
16. My blanket was delivered, but someone in the mailroom signed for it and put it somewhere. I can't find it. Can you ship me a new one?
17. I ordered this product - and thanks for shipping it so fast - but I'd emailed you three days after placing my order to ask if I could get two twin-sized, orange blankets instead, but you shipped me a blue queen size blanket. Don't you read emails? I would like to return this blue blanket and get the two orange twin-sized blankets I asked for.
18. I'd like to use this blanket as a table cloth for a birthday party I'm having this weekend, will it repel water and not stain?
19. Is the blanket soft?
20. I'd like to order a blanket in blue. How do I do that?

Other than not dealing with blankets, these are exact questions I have had to respond to.
Please save fictional lives, read descriptions when ordering anywhere, and for the love of all that's holy, double check your mailing information. Thank you.

Summer is here. Sanity is somewhere over there.

It's June, and that means its lovely outside in my little corner of Michigan. Am I out enjoying every minute of it? Sadly, no.

Why? I'm neck deep in edits of A Broken Race. 102 suggested points from the editors to conquer. Most aren't all that significant in terms of big changes, others add require diving deeper into backstory groundwork while dancing on the delicate tightrope that stretches across the valley of info dump. I have about a week left to finish up.

 We have to take four more small trees out to finally get our business drive put in at the end of the month (yes, also a week away). This means that our towering brush pile mountain from all the other small and dead trees that have come down over the past couple years here, had to be reduced before it turned into a brush mountain range. We burned for three straight days and got it down to a more manageable 'pile' designation...until those four trees come down.

 Then there was the deck fiasco. Let's sum it up by saying I have a deck now. It wasn't built by the original contractor we hired and it was weeks late. It doesn't currently have a railing because the home improvement store ordered the wrong one and now we have to wait three more weeks for the right one. We can't get the deck approved without the railing, which means we can't use it as getting all the stuff out of the garage that is meant to go on the deck so that I might be able to finally park inside. I spent way too much time returning wrong and extra stuff, ordering the right stuff, and on the phone trying to figure out what the hell was going on.

 Work on the outside of the house continues. In this month's installment, I'm working on the rock areas. This means I'm getting a workout, hefting 80lb bags of mortar and hauling buckets of said substance up ladders to slap it on the metal lath we installed last month. Next up: rocks.

A conversation with a friend led to something I've been wanting to try and now we have room for. We're hsting an exchange student for a month. So I spent some time cleaning up ou spare room, buying a bed and all that goes with it and making functional room in the closet I'd intended to use for storage. Since we're supposed to show her around our area, this gave me the nudge I needed to plan our family vacation. Cabin reserved, sights to see have been noted and arrangements for pets have been made.

And yes, that means she'll be arriving in a week and then we'll be busy showing her around.

In between the rocks, trees, and railing projects... Which means I better get back to those edits.

I'll leave you with the latest Author's Answer, where we discuss the writing process.

Pretty things

Never have I considered myself a girly girl, but I do enjoy a few pretty things. Sometime around my late twenties I gave up my love for wild earrings, sparkly necklaces and multiple bracelets. That sometime probably coincided with having kids. Since then, you can find me wearing the same necklace for months in a row and the same earrings for years. Bracelets are an on occasion only because they really get in the way for typing and working. The one things that truly remains constant are my rings.

I've always been a little hard on rings, but I love them, and through children, gardening, messy jobs and all life throws at me, I refuse to give them up. I've worn this collection for the past seventeen or so years. Then, within a month, this all happened: 

Not only did building a house take it's toll on my legs and back, my rings suffered. Other than when I was working with mortar or grout, which was really messy stuff, I wore my usual rings. As of this morning, I'm down to two undamaged rings and both of those are simple bands, though, one is hematite -which I've shattered several of in the past- and I wouldn't put it past this one to shatter at any moment. 

I wore a hole in my pearl. I smashed my hand loading heavy stock onto equipment for work and ripped the sapphire out of the second ring. (My hand is fine, thanks for asking, and I found the stone.) I smashed my hand arranging tables in my new work space and lost the diamond from my wedding ring. Searches have not turned up the diamond. Please join me in a rousing chorus of "Doh!"  The last one I caught on a table while setting up for my hopefully last ever annual garage sale and bent it so far out of shape that it now looks like a potato chip. 

Someone has to keep the jewelry repair people busy.

If it's heavy, awkward or large, I'll lift it and I'll move it. I'll do it myself thank you very much. I hate asking for help and even more, I hate waiting for help. 

And this is why I have a hard time writing female characters of the gentle, soft, and proper persuasion. 

November In Review

It was an eventful November to say the least. Hectic sums it up nicely.

Your picture taking has awoken me, worthless human! Now go away so I may sleep more, and then you shall serve me more food and clean my litter box and let me out if I so choose, but I shan't be rushed in my choosing. If you do not do these things, I shall knock another glass off your counter and watch in amusement as it shatters on the tile floor. Mwhahahaha.

We now have a cat. Sort of. It decided this was its home. He had a home at one point because he showed up with a collar. But this skinny young fellow gets along well with our dog and he wasn't micro chipped or reported missing. He's a beautiful tabby, sadly not neutered or declawed, which means he has to be watched carefully because he seems to think my newly recovered couch is a scratching post.

When I sent him out with a note taped to his collar inquiring whether he had an owner, he came back without a collar. I guess that means I touched him last so now he lives here. We weren't really seeking a cat, being dog people now, but the new owner of this house does want a cat, so we're cat sitting, in our house, that isn't really our house anymore, for a guy who wants the cat. We'll enjoy him in the meantime.

The early feet of snow have melted and we're back to frozen but not covered in snow, which is normal for this time of year. This means work on the siding of the new house can continue. Hooray for that.

My unexpected two-week sleeping-on-my-writing-couch house guest has left, though my two week cold lingers with a nasty chest cough. I'm really sick of coughing.

NaNoWriMo has come to an end for another year. My goal was 10K. I ended up feeling pretty happy with my effort ending at 25K for the amount of time I had to write. Both stories I was working on have promise, they just need my full attention - which no one has right now.

Work has picked to an insane pace, as is usual with the holidays approaching. This means my days go something like this:

Wake up
Work
Run kids around after school
Work on house
Go to bed

Occasionally there's time for a rinse, mostly it's a repeat.

When The Vet Emails

Yesterday, as I was perusing my inbox while shoveling lunch into my face, I noticed an email from the vet. He's a really nice guy and has always been great with my pets.

His office recently started sending out happy birthday emails. Yes, to pets.

I'd received one for my dog. He hasn't mastered the mouse  click yet, though he is good at resting his head on my keyboard if I try to use my laptop on the couch. We'll have to work on before next year's card arrives.

Beyond the e-card, however, is the issue of the card I received today. It was addressed to my cat, Suki. That's all well and good, but that cat died twenty-three years ago. Really. I mean, if my would-be twenty-seven year old cat was having a birthday, that would be amazing, and a true testament to awesome veterinary care, but alas, tis not the case.

They may want to reconsider the database they're pulling their pet info from. Just maybe.

I wonder if I'll get birthday emails for my other two cats that have passed on during that time? I don't even remember when their birthdays were so I guess I'll have to wait and find out. At least they could have clicked the mouse.

Building a House Baby

Yes, building a house is like having a newborn. It's exhausting. I don't sleep much. I haven't had time to write in far too long.

My current house is a mess and I can't tell you the last time I put on clothes that didn't smell like sawdust or have dirt stains on them. It's just not worth the effort of putting on nice clothes because inevitably I'll get a call that requires me to run over to the house and get dirty.

If I don't hear from my subcontractors about the house, I start to worry. Yet, at the same time, I'm wishing there were a few less things that required my attention so I could have a night to relax now and then. When I do get an hour here or there to relax, I just want to sleep. Or do laundry, or one of the countless other things I don't have time for between work, sleep, eat, and house.

I've cleaned up enough sand, sawdust and lumber scraps to equal the fun of changing diapers, but at least the house hasn't pissed on me yet. There's always tomorrow.

Yes, it will all be worth it in the end. I keep telling myself that and dream of my writing room. And then I realize how much work is still ahead of us and the exhaustion kicks back in.

Hopefully, if all goes well (there have been four delays already) this time, insulation will begin next week and then drywall. We're doing some basement ceiling insulation ourselves, but other than that, we get to sit back and supervise for most of those two steps. After running all the electrical and networking, and the security system, supervising for a bit sounds really darn good.

I bought a book today. That was probably overly optimistic of me, but I'd really like to read it. Eventually. When I can keep my eyes open and concentrate on something for more than ten minutes.

Until then, it's house and stalking my submissions tracker. And sleeping. Wonderful sleep. The  hours we share are too short.

The Estate of Waiting

I should have chosen "Wait" for my one word resolution or perhaps "Patience". Not only I'm I waiting to hear anything on (some for a very long time) several submissions and a couple accepted shorts to finally be released to the big world, but after wasting over four months with a bank who kept dragging their feet and offering every excuse in the book (which finally pushed us to kick them to the curb), and three productive weeks with another, we finally got our construction loan. The new house is in the works!

An hour after massaging our hands from the strain of signing all the paperwork, we gleefully called our builder to let him know we were ready to roll. That's when we learned that even though it's barely started to thaw around here, the seasonal road weight restrictions had gone into effect. The same damn day. No kidding. The excavator can't get his equipment there. The basement wall people can't get their crane there. We're dead in the water, again, until probably May. Thank you so very much extreme winter. You suck.

In writing news, work on Sahmara's story has being coming along at a good pace. Weaving all the strings tighter is definitely my favorite part of novel writing. Just when I start making progress with my 10k of fleshing out goal, other words need to be deleted. At chapter five, I've managed to add all of 1,000 words. This may take a few passes, or perhaps, one more and then tossing it out for critique. That's usually a good place to get nudges as to where I'm too bare in the bones. At least there's progress somewhere, right?

Stuff and Things

Life is still hectic, but I wanted to check in to prove I'm still alive--for my sake as much as yours. I'd hoped to have a good news post here, but that's taking a little longer than expected so I'll get to that another day.

Life in writing land looks like email submissions instead of characters and plots. That's not all bad, at least I feel like I'm doing something with what I did have time to write.

House plans are back from the designer and pricing has commenced. We met with a General Contractor who is willing to let us do a lot of the work so we can cut costs. It's now a matter of time for us to get the pricing package together as we can for him to finish up and then go to the bank for money. Clearing the land is progressing at a weekend at a time pace. My poison ivy has mostly cleared up. Yay, for that!

NaNoWriMo planning is in full swing, at least as far as my ML duties go. I don't know where I'm going to find time to write this November, especially if we're mid-house, but at least my local writers will have their regional events, weekly write-ins and lots of prizes.

Well that was interesting

I was standing on my driveway, painting a screen door we'd recently purchased, when I overheard the commment, "She looks skinny enough."

Now, I had no idea what to make of this when I glanced way from my Sunday afternoon project and spotted the neighbor's house sitter tentatively creeping down my long driveway. My first thought was that I hadn't considered myself skinny for a good fifteen years, so I was rather nice to hear. Then I realized it was kind of all a matter of persepective. She was far less "skinny". The woman still standing in the neighbor's driveway across the street was of the same build.

Our lovely neighbors, you know the sort, the ones that leave their trash can at the roadside for half a week, their Christmas wreath up on their front door for years on end, and who only mow when the weeds are done flowering in the front yard...uh huh, those ones, well, they had been gone all week. I was rather enjoying this fact, except that the garbage can had been out all week and there was no hope that the weed field would be mowed down, and the wreath, well I was used to hating it by now. At least their loud pickup truck was only heard a couple times a day when the house sitter showed up to care for whatever she was caring for. I hoped it was their three dogs that I'd not heard or seen in quite some time.

House sitter lady crept closer and shouted, "Could you help me?"

I set down my paintbrush and went to see what this was all about.

"My key doesn't seem to be working. I think I did something to the lock when I was here earlier," she says through panting. Sweat beads run down her face. She's standing next to me now, pointing at the house across the street. "I got a window open, but I can't get in."

Well that explains the skinny comment.

"I got stuck," she whispers. "I took me a while to get myself out. I need to get in and don't know what else to do."

Telling a complete stranger that you managed to wedge yourself in a window has to be a sign of her desperation. She's got their truck and I've seen there there several times all week so I'm pretty sure she's legit. There must be a pretty serious reason why she needs to get inside, like three dogs bursting at the bladder.

"Sure. Which window is open?"

"It's on the side. I have a ladder all set up."

It's a single storey house. Does one really need a ladder?

Then I see the window, it's small. We're talking an eighteen inch by two foot opening. No wonder she got stuck. And it's no wonder she needed a ladder. It's either going to take a front dive through the space or a contortionist wriggle to get inside.

I get up couple steps and peer through the opening. There are no dogs, only a typical messy kid's room complete with piles of toys and scattered laundry. And it stinks like a confined space with too many pets.

With one leg through and the woman babbling her thanks beside the ladder, I take a deep breath and wiggle the rest of my body in. Thank goodness for the stack of photo albums on the floor that served as a step or I would have ended up on my face.

"Can you open the front door?"

"No problem." Having prior knowledge of the house from the charming and neat previous owners, I make my way through the house to the front door. On my way down the hall, also littered with toys and laundry, I get to the kitchen to find a large aquarium with a snake in it. I nearly trip over more clothing before I get to the front door. There's no one there. Wouldn't the front door be the logical one to be waiting at? Alas, no, the house sitter and her daughter are knocking on the back door. I fight my way over the mountains of dirty laundry in the space I can only describe as the-place-where-they-throw-all-their-stuff-that-also-contains-a-washer-and-dryer to the back door and let the knockers in.

"Oh thank you!" They both plow inside. "We'll be sure to tell them how kind you were to help us."

There is no sign of the dogs. Maybe they got rid of them? Maybe their buried out back? There the definite odor of small furry creatures in cedar bedding wafting from somewhere and it's making my eyes water. I make my way back to the kitchen. Dirty dishes are piled all over the counters. I am by no means a fastidious person, but whole place makes me shudder and grit my teeth. I consider asking this outside source about the dogs, but I don't want to breathe in any more of this stench than I have to and the more I stop of focus on the mess the more my skin starts to crawl.

Will the neighbors be thrilled to know I helped them out, or will they be mortified I saw the inside of their house? Then again, judging by the state of the exterior of the house, they probably don't care. We're not on the neighborly chat level with these people so I'll probably never know, and that's okay.

Anxious to get back outside into fresh air, I remind them to lock the window and close the doors before they leave. I escape through the tall grass, spotted with yellow hawkweed flowers. By the time I get to the empty garbage can at the end of the driveway, I come to a full stop. Why, oh why, hadn't I taken down that damned Christmas wreath while I had the chance?

April: Behind the scenes

So while my character parade is happily plodding onward, I thought I'd share what's going on behind the scenes.

1. During the flooding last week, despite $200 pump I ran to three stores to finally find one in stock in the pouring rain, getting covered in mud several times and becoming one with the worms in my dirt crawl space, my furnace went underwater just far enough to die.

2. After the days of  rain finally ended, we did not go directly to our long delayed spring. Instead, we reverted back to winter. It's been snowing intermittantly and not above 40 degrees. And I have no heat other than a space heater in the living room.

3. Work is busy as hell. Being self-employed means if it's busy, I'm working. There have been 10 - 14 hour work days (and there have been for the past couple weeks and that includes weekends). Okay, so working like mad has sort of kept me warmish. There is that. Sort of.

4. While all this is going on, it was time for my LAST school carnival yesterday. This means, that while working crazy long hours, I was also at school (where there is at least heat) for 11 hours last week setting up and running the darn carnival. It went very smoothly thanks to some wonderful volunteers from a local church, but I'm soooooo glad it's over. Another last for this can't wait to be done with PTO duties mom. Now there's just a parade, a big field trip and graduation to plan. Deep breaths. It's almost over.

5. Progress on my Camp NaNo novella has screeched to a couple hundred words here and there. I am at 13k of my 25k goal. Will I get there by the end of the month?

6. I'm way behind on crits. Chapters are piling up of some great stories I'd love to be reading.

7. All this culminated in a lovely migraine yesterday that is still with me today and I have a ton of work to do.

Monday will be better, right?  At least the furnace guy is coming in the morning now that the water has drained out of the crawlspace so he can tell me how much fixing my furnance is going to cost. Yay?

Reclaiming My Space

Since the arrival of my laptop three years ago, I haven't had much use for my old computer desk. My big old desktop computer left the house, which meant I had some storage space under my desk. NaNoWriMo moved in, specifically stuff I gather throughout the year for regional events. Then that began to over flow onto my desktop, because really, I wasn't using that for anything either. My desk is too small for a crafting station so it became a NaNo catchall, piled high and stuffed underneath by the time each November rolled around.

Even my good computer chair with the awesome back support had become a storage zone, though sometimes more for clothes than anything else. It certainly didn't fit under my desk anymore so it begged to have stuff piled on it.

My long gone little writing zone was starting its December to October metamorphosis from desk to NaNo pile again until I had the bright idea to reclaim my space.

This idea was born of two things: back pain and me.

Me because this is the year of me. One of my excuses for not writing more is that I use my computer on the couch downstairs...surrounded my other family members. I can get some writing done in the morning, but work quickly absorbs my day. The moment the kids come home from school, all hope of quiet thought is abolished by xbox games, you tube videos and my son game chatting online with his friends out loud. I needed my own space back.

After a few weeks of wracking bronchitis coughing, my back wasn't feeling so hot. In fact, I couldn't get out of bed without help. This also meant lounging on the couch with my laptop meant a lot of pain and getting up from the couch also required help. Using the comfy recliner was no better.

This sad state of physical being prompted me to get myself back to the chiropractor. After looking at  xrays of my spine, he informed me that, "Wow, I don't normally like to say things like this is a train wreck, but yeah, this really isn't good." I should probably note that I'd been seeing this guy for years (years ago) so his dark humor was appreciated.

That meant I needed to sit up straight until things were back in line or suffer the very painful consequences. Remember that chair serving as a clothing rack? Yeah, so did my back. Time to clean!

Three bags of garbage removed later (when did I accumulate that much outdated computer and writing related stuff?) and my NaNo regional pile relocated to new storage areas out of sight, I'm happy to report that I've reclaimed my writing space.

I guess that means I should get to writing, huh?

Slowly catching up with the world

In my quest for a me focused year, I've managed to find time to watch a few tv shows I've been meaning to watch, scarily, for a decade in one case. Since December Netflix has indulged my desire to watch:

Capricia, which I never got to watch on tv because I was mourning the end of BSG. Why do they force these related series on us faithful viewers so soon after the end of our favorite show? Give us a little time to want it again, people. I didn't need more of this (am not joining the angry throng still upset about it only lasting one season), but I did enjoy seeing how the cylons began and getting hints, that I'm more than happy to fill in myself thank you very much, as to how these events played into the series that we knew and loved.

I finally manged to wrap up my spotty year of attempting to get to the entire series of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, which I also totally snubbed at the time of it's original airing, though for no particular reason other than it just wasn't my thing at the time. Not that it was my thing now either, but carrying a show over that many seasons and keeping the main characters still interesting and evolving is certainly something to appreciate.

Firefly is also on my watch list. Never watched that at the time either, despite the rabid fans telling me that I should. So far the most amusing thing is seeing actors that have been in so many other shows since now in this role. Haven't become a rabid fan as of yet.

I also tried to give Lost Girl a chance because it sounded interesting, but after a couple episodes I don't have much good to say so I'll leave it at that.

Thanks to the doctor informing me that I have bronchitis, I haven't been overly active, I've spent a good deal of my evenings wiped out and in bed coughing long before actual bedtime. Since my laptop has some loose wiring in the monitor that makes it go blank every time I cough when it's on my lap, I've started watching Eureka - yet another show I meant to watch but didn't make time for. So far, this is my favorite of my tv show quest.

And with this updated, I'm off to edit some short stories, juggle a submission, and get some work done before my my medicine puts me into a nice cough-free sleep.

2013 Resolution: Overachievers not-so-anonymous

Last year I jumped on the idea of a one word New Year's resolution. I'm happy to report this is the first time ever that I've actually stuck to my resolution for the entire year. No griping, no forgetting about it after two weeks, no feeling that I was roping myself into some unrealistic goal. No sir, it worked, and I feel so much better for it. Last year's word was: Less.

This year: Me.

Yep, a very small word, yet a very big aspiration.

This is my last year volunteering at my daughter's elementary school. After nine long years of PTO duties, I'm soooooo ready to hang up my dinged up, paint-covered name tag. My big Christmas craft project is done for the year so it's all downhill from here. This means that after June, that's a lot less obligations and stress for me.

I've been on a grant review board for the past couple years, and while I've enjoyed doing it, the one night the six meetings a year are on is the same night I have two other obligations. I enjoy the other two things more, and one of those is only for a month out of the year. This one is still up for debate, but I'm seriously considering stepping down as part of the reducing stress for me effort.

This past year, I've all but handed over my writing time to the drool-sucking monster of work. NaNo helped me find that time again, but not the creativity and inspiration that actually makes it enjoyable and readable. It's time to put an end to feeling like I need to work twelve hour days, day after day after day. Sure there will be some, but I've got to turn off work and make more time for me to do what I enjoy.

My kids are ten and fourteen, they don't need me every second of every day anymore. I need to step back with the small things and continue to hold them accountable for the things I expect them to do and find a few more things they can help out with. It's easy to just keep doing most things myself, but I could be delegating more. They're old enough to help spread the load to help reduce my overwhelming list of things I try to squeeze into every day.

Possibly most important, I will make time for me to eat lunch and breakfast. I can't tell you how many days I went without one or both this past year because there was just too much to get done every day.

I'm not sure when or how I became an overachiever, but it sure seems to take a while to recover from being one. After realizing how thin I've spread myself, I can't say it's hard to step down from everything I've roped myself into, but I do feel guilty knowing that those things might not get done by someone else. Sometimes, they just don't. I've seen it happen and I cringe. But I don't leap back into the fire. I'm not a superwoman with endless energy. I'm just me and there's only so much I can do. I have another resolution to stick to and I'd love to report another successful year. Wish me luck.

Dependablity

From my vacation to the Badlands: Even rock can show love.

Today is an odd day for me. My last grandparent has died, which leaves me a generation closer to old age and death. Only a few weeks from her 90th birthday, my Grandmother finally left this world. I say finally, because we all knew it was coming soon, even if she didn't. She didn't know much these last few years, but it didn't slow her down until the very end.

Dear Grandma wasn't the grandparent I begged to spend a week during the summer with every year. She didn't play, bake me cookies, or inspire me toward gardening or creative pursuits. She made just enough food for everyone present and not a morsel more. Though she had money, she didn't waste a penny on anything remotely frivolous. She greeted my crazy hair colors and clothing choices with nothing more than a slight eye roll and an exasperated 'oh heh'. That what all she had to say about most anything she didn't agree with. Oh heh.

She certainly wasn't the Grandma I considered fun. But she was always there. Dependable. When it came to taking me out shopping for birthdays she was there. She was always happy to provide a family Sunday dinner once or twice a month. And I always got a hug when I arrived and one when I left.

Most amazingly, though, as the years went by, the Grandmother than I'd always consider the kind, sweet, fun one grew sulky, angry and highly opinionated. Dependable Grandma, well, she stayed herself - smiling, hugging, and grateful for every visit even when she no longer had any idea who I was.

While I wouldn't mind being considered fun should I be fortunate enough to live into old age, what I truly hope to be is dependable.

Dragon myself through the week

From this side it looks angry.

It's been a crazy busy week. You'd think being down one kid (he's working at Boy Scout camp for two weeks) would make for a little extra time, but no. Work has continued to devour what would usually be my writing time. Which also is my critiquing time, so sadly, I've also fallen woefully behind there too. On the slightly brighter side, I have been able to devote some subconscious effort to percolating submission pieces for A Broken Race, which is nearly ready to head out into Queryland.

While I've been so busy, I have managed to carve out a little craft time with my daughter. She's been in a 'let's make dragons out of clay' mode lately. Who am I to argue? So I sat down with her and a ball of air dry clay and we made dragons.

At this angle its more friendly.

Admittedly, I made this dragon over a month ago (work has been at crazy level for quite awhile). I then moved it to the corner of my kitchen counter where stuff that sits around collects. I figured that if it sat there, I'd remember to make time to also sit with my daughter and paint it. Great intention.

It sat there for a week and got hit with some random something that I set on the counter. One wing, a foot and several back spines fell off. I swore. Profusely. Then I got my glue gun out and fixed it.

I moved my repaired and still unpainted dragon to my desk in an 'out of the way' place so it would be safe until I got around to painting it. While it was in this safe place, it seems that I managed to smash it with a tape gun in a flurry of shipping packages for work. All that stuff that broke before, fell off again. Only this time, the wing shattered. Again, I swore profusely. I didn't fix it.

The poor dragon and its broken bits sat in a pile of clay dust for several weeks. You might say it was daring me to fix it and I was ignoring it because I was still pissed that I'd broken it again before I had made time to paint the darn thing.

Finally, after a late dinner, I hauled out my box of paints and my glue gun. The dragon got fixed. Again. It also got a base coat. Then it sat on the table for two days until I stepped away from another twelve hour day and a late dinner to begin the brain numbing process of painting scales. Four days later, its finally done.

The dragon has now been placed in an actual safe place. And if fate has it's way with the dragon again, at least I have these photos.

Still working on that New Year's Resolution

Back in those last few minutes of 2011, I pledged that this year I would embrace the word Less. I am pleased to announce another milestone in my efforts toward that end. This weekend I wrapped up my four year stint as a Girl Scout leader.
While there were some proud moments during those years, I can't say that this is something I'm going to miss terribly. It was something I let myself get roped into for my shy daughter's sake, and because I thought I could bring something to the program that our troop was missing - namely a craft lady and organization.

We've decorated and tool aprons,assembled hygiene kits, and this year, made blankets for a local women's support organization. We've made cards for service people and place mats for the elderly. We earned bunches of badges, sold car loads of cookies and went on some fun end of the year reward trips together. We hung out at a big mall and made Girl Scout build-a-bears. We went to a big water park where some of the girls had their first big night away from home in a pretty awesome hotel. We went camping, which many of our girls had never done. This year we went to a smaller water park and also went horseback riding, which, again, many of our girls had never done. We went roller skating and bowling discovered local art museums, pet stores, parks and countless other field trip locations.

These girls all went into this as girls who went to school together, but came out as friends. There were even some unlikely exchanges of phone numbers and promises of hanging out over the summer happening on the way home yesterday. I hope they follow through and look fondly on all the pictures they took together in the coming years.
Both of us current leaders are passing the torch to a new pair of brave souls. I wish the new leaders luck and patience.

Why wouldn't I miss what seems so sound rather like a warm-fuzzy-fest from this post?

No more pressure to attend the monthly leader meetings and no more planning meetings cramming into the frantic end of summer. Two less after school troop meetings a month - which also means no more last minute phone calls of:
- Did you get snack or do I have to?
- OMG! Do we have paperwork from everyone for this field trip today?
- I'm so far behind at work, I'm going to be late. Oh crap, you're going to be late too? Ahhh!

No more:
- Wading through piles of emails from the local leadership
- Feeling guilty that I couldn't squeeze more of the fun local opportunities for the girls into my schedule
- Filling out troop paperwork
- Having to run to the store to get last minute craft supplies for projects I didn't have time to set up because of work.
- Having to call thirteen parents to remind them of what their daughters need to bring to our next event.
- Composing last minute notes to send home to try to avoid those thirteen phone calls before an event.
- Waiting for twenty minutes at the end of every meeting for the same two parents who never remember to pick up their kids even though our meeting gets done at the same time every time.
- Dealing with other leader drama from the other troop at our school.

Yes it was fun, but it was a lot of work too. And so, with fond memories intact, I will undo a knot from my superwoman cape, allowing a little more neck room, and walk a few feet closer to the sunset.

The dog saga continues

First I'd like to say that dear Maggie hasn't been on her front yard tether in two days for more than a couple hours at a time. So yay for that. Oh, and they've mowed. Woohoo!

In other events, I received an irate letter from the family today in the mail. Obviously Mr. Officer did absolutely nothing to attempt to cover events. AND he managed to get almost everything I said on the phone and to him in person wrong. Holy crap, is it really that hard? I swear I wasn't speaking in code or practicing my Klingon.

The dog is tied up outside for eight to ten hours a day with no shelter other than a tree. Her water bucket is tipped over every day so she has no water other than when they first put her outside (which I can't attest to because it's tipped over by the time I get up and see her outside) - and one day, no bucket at all. They come and go, but never check her bucket, even when it's plainly tipped over. The dog doesn't like being in the front yard, looks abused and shows major anxiety anytime someone walks down the street - which happens all the time.

So I get a letter explaining that Maggie eats five meals at day and is not underfed. If they leave food outside for her, she could get worms. The water bucket is there every day. It's behind the tree so it must be that I can't see it. So they'll put the bucket in front of the tree in plain sight for me. My dog is outside all the time and they don't know if it has water or food but they don't call the police on me. I should have just come over and talked to them or at least checked the situation for myself rather than calling the police right away.

Holy headdesk batman. I've gone over to try to talk to them about their dogs many times over the years. They don't answer the freakin door. I'm the one who has chased their dogs (sometimes three times a day) around my yard and put them back in their fenced in (albeit with broken slats) back yard - because Mr. Family, who is home during the day, is sleeping and doesn't answer his door. Ever wrangle a frolicking Great Dane who's bored and wants to play? It's gobs of fun, I tell you. I went over and gave their dog water for goodness sake.

My dog is out either with me or for less than half an hour at a time on his tether - which is not in the front yard and he has access to the door to let me know when he wants to come in and, yes, he has water both inside and out. That wasn't the point at all. The point was leaving the dog out all damn day with no water or shelter where she could feel calm and safe. But apparently that's really hard to convey so now I'll have to do that myself or just live with having irate neighbors that I already don't speak to.

There are days I really don't like people. This is one of those days.