Happy Halloween! Or Happy Samhain for those followers of the old ways. In Celtic lore, this is the time of year when the veil between the worlds is thinnest, allowing spirits to cross into this world and allowing us to get a glimpse into the other world. I realize a lot of people think things like scrying and Tarot are a bunch of mumbo jumbo, hocus pocus, or whatever, and that's fine that they think that. As for me, I do believe this day is one of mystery and magic. On this day last year, I did a Tarot reading to show me the upcoming year. That reading supplied the name for this blog, because in the outcome position of the Celtic cross spread, I drew the Empress card, which wasn't a card I identified much with at that time. A lot of the other cards could be read as baby, mothering, or birth cards. At that time, a baby was the last thing I wanted. My, how things change. I don't know if that Tarot reading was predicting the future or helping me to realize my hidden desire. Either way, there was magic and mystery in that reading because here I am, one year later, pregnant with my first child. Since this night is traditionally a time to honor those who have passed over, I will be honoring my grandmother, who died in 1996. She gave birth to eleven healthy children, so I think this is a good time to reconnect with her.
However you choose to celebrate this day, I wish you all the magic in all the worlds.
Wednesday, October 31, 2007
Tuesday, October 30, 2007
Dream Big and Live Large
For a while, I had those words at the top of my daily planner. Then my planner got full of other things-- tasks for work, dental appointments, birthday reminders, etc. -- and I deleted those words in the interest of space. That and I had read them so often they had lost their meaning, falling into bad cliché territory. Turns out, I should have left them where they were because I have certainly not been taking my own advice.
I have been struggling with my writing lately. I have a good reason. As I already announced here, I'm pregnant, so in terms of my thought processes, all roads lead to baby shoes and curtains for the nursery. But if I was honest with myself, truly honest with myself-- which I try never to be-- I knew there was something more, something specific to my writing, and I think I've figured out what it is. I have been lowballing my dream.
I have a completed, polished manuscript, and it's damn good if I do say so myself, which obviously, I do, but because I was afraid to dream big, I have been willing to sell out my dream and my manuscript for published mediocrity rather than hold out for that high profile agent or the big contract. Success scares me, you see. As much as I strive for it and work toward it, the idea of actually getting it terrifies me. Maybe it's a fear of the unknown. Maybe it's a fear of change. I really don't know. What I do know is that I had become willing to settle. Settling and quitting are the only things that can absolutely, 100% keep you from reaching your goals or getting your dream.
I came to believe one had to put out a book a year in order to be successful. There are some writers who can turn out quality work annually, but I am not one of them. I write slowly, but the end product is quality. In recalling my favorite authors, they aren't the prolific ones, they are the ones who take a while to do their thing, but in the end their thing is magical. They are the authors whose websites I check to see when their next release is projected to hit the shelves. They are the ones whose books I absolutely must have, the ones that I set aside entire weekends to read-- phone unplugged except to order out for pizza. J.K. Rowling, Diana Gabaldon, and Robert Jordan spring immediately to mind. I never walk through my local BN and say, "Oh look, Diana Gabaldon has another book out." No, I know when her books are coming out. Usually I've been counting the days.
And this, I have come to realize, is the writer I want to be. Such are the stories I want to tell. It's going to mean doing some serious work on an actual career plan (shiver) and research to find just the right agents to query, but it's my dream. It's my dream and it's worth the effort to make it big.
I have been struggling with my writing lately. I have a good reason. As I already announced here, I'm pregnant, so in terms of my thought processes, all roads lead to baby shoes and curtains for the nursery. But if I was honest with myself, truly honest with myself-- which I try never to be-- I knew there was something more, something specific to my writing, and I think I've figured out what it is. I have been lowballing my dream.
I have a completed, polished manuscript, and it's damn good if I do say so myself, which obviously, I do, but because I was afraid to dream big, I have been willing to sell out my dream and my manuscript for published mediocrity rather than hold out for that high profile agent or the big contract. Success scares me, you see. As much as I strive for it and work toward it, the idea of actually getting it terrifies me. Maybe it's a fear of the unknown. Maybe it's a fear of change. I really don't know. What I do know is that I had become willing to settle. Settling and quitting are the only things that can absolutely, 100% keep you from reaching your goals or getting your dream.
I came to believe one had to put out a book a year in order to be successful. There are some writers who can turn out quality work annually, but I am not one of them. I write slowly, but the end product is quality. In recalling my favorite authors, they aren't the prolific ones, they are the ones who take a while to do their thing, but in the end their thing is magical. They are the authors whose websites I check to see when their next release is projected to hit the shelves. They are the ones whose books I absolutely must have, the ones that I set aside entire weekends to read-- phone unplugged except to order out for pizza. J.K. Rowling, Diana Gabaldon, and Robert Jordan spring immediately to mind. I never walk through my local BN and say, "Oh look, Diana Gabaldon has another book out." No, I know when her books are coming out. Usually I've been counting the days.
And this, I have come to realize, is the writer I want to be. Such are the stories I want to tell. It's going to mean doing some serious work on an actual career plan (shiver) and research to find just the right agents to query, but it's my dream. It's my dream and it's worth the effort to make it big.
Wednesday, October 24, 2007
Thursday Thirteen: Things you wouldn't know by looking at me
Be sure to check out Molly and Trina's blogs on the same topic.
1. I love all things British: The literature, the accent, the BBC America station, the Beatles, Collin Firth, you name it.
2. Steel Magnolias and Gone with the Wind are two of my favorite movies-- To look at me, you'd never think I was such a sap.
3. I'm a vegetarian
4. My family is extremely rednecc-- The Coors Light, monster truck, piss out the backdoor of the trailer kind of redneck. You could say I'm the white sheep of the family.
5. I love Duran Duran-- dorky, I know. Maybe it's the British thing again.
6. I can recite the alphabet backwards.
7. My husband and I have grandparents named exactly the same thing-- We both have a set of grandparents named Hurbert and Delphie. Don't worry, they're not the same people.
8. My mother wanted to name me Bobbi-- Thank heavens my father refused.
9. I was in marching band all four years of high school-- I played the flute, piccolo, and xylophone. Hey, no bashing the band! My high school was so backward, band members were the cool kids. No kidding.
10. I love animals-- I worry about them obsessively. If a dog barks in the neighborhood, I beg Michael to go check on it. I once pleaded with him to rescue a duck we saw in the parking lot of Lowe's. We had a pool see, so we had the perfect habitat for a duck.
11. I am an only child and I have two sisters-- it's a step/half thing. I am my mother's only child, but my father has a daughter by his second marriage, and his wife has a daughter from her first marriage. Confused yet?
12. I have a tattoo-- It's covered by my clothes, but I'm really proud of it. It's a triple moon symbol, and I got it after my fifth brain surgery. I felt strongly that I wanted to do something permanent to my body that was by my choice, not by necessity. And it's much prettier than the scar on the back of my head. Getting the tattoo was about feeling like I was in control of something. It took courage, and I try to remember that act of courage whenever I feel weak or cowardly or scared.
13. I'm pregnant! You wouldn't know it to look at me yet because I'm only a little pregnant, but I am most certainly pregnant!
1. I love all things British: The literature, the accent, the BBC America station, the Beatles, Collin Firth, you name it.
2. Steel Magnolias and Gone with the Wind are two of my favorite movies-- To look at me, you'd never think I was such a sap.
3. I'm a vegetarian
4. My family is extremely rednecc-- The Coors Light, monster truck, piss out the backdoor of the trailer kind of redneck. You could say I'm the white sheep of the family.
5. I love Duran Duran-- dorky, I know. Maybe it's the British thing again.
6. I can recite the alphabet backwards.
7. My husband and I have grandparents named exactly the same thing-- We both have a set of grandparents named Hurbert and Delphie. Don't worry, they're not the same people.
8. My mother wanted to name me Bobbi-- Thank heavens my father refused.
9. I was in marching band all four years of high school-- I played the flute, piccolo, and xylophone. Hey, no bashing the band! My high school was so backward, band members were the cool kids. No kidding.
10. I love animals-- I worry about them obsessively. If a dog barks in the neighborhood, I beg Michael to go check on it. I once pleaded with him to rescue a duck we saw in the parking lot of Lowe's. We had a pool see, so we had the perfect habitat for a duck.
11. I am an only child and I have two sisters-- it's a step/half thing. I am my mother's only child, but my father has a daughter by his second marriage, and his wife has a daughter from her first marriage. Confused yet?
12. I have a tattoo-- It's covered by my clothes, but I'm really proud of it. It's a triple moon symbol, and I got it after my fifth brain surgery. I felt strongly that I wanted to do something permanent to my body that was by my choice, not by necessity. And it's much prettier than the scar on the back of my head. Getting the tattoo was about feeling like I was in control of something. It took courage, and I try to remember that act of courage whenever I feel weak or cowardly or scared.
13. I'm pregnant! You wouldn't know it to look at me yet because I'm only a little pregnant, but I am most certainly pregnant!
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
The Plumbing Nightmare
A while back, I said I would recount our adventures in plumbing. I have waited so long because it is a truly painful memory. Even now, I have trouble telling the story without feeling my blood pressure rise. don't get me wrong, I know there are some honest, hard-working, knowledgeable plumbers out there. Those weren't the plumbers we hired. The problem began as a leaky bathtub faucet. Sounds simple enough, right? Wrong. We had to replace the cartridge (whatever that is) which can be a very easy job or a very difficult job. Ours fell into the latter category, which Michael deduced after assessing the situation and researching plumbing fixes on the internet. Believing it beyond his skill to repair, we hired a plumber. Looking back, I could have lived with that leaky faucet for a long time. But there was a drought see, and we didn't want to waste the water. Probably we should have just put a bucket under the faucet and used it to water the plants, but we were well intentioned. No good deed goes unpunished, right?
We have learned a lot from this experience. Primarily what we learned is that all plumbers should be women. Here are my reasons why:
Because a woman would not show up at your house, take a look at the problem, which you already described in detail over the phone, and say she has to go out for a part. No, a woman would have that part with her, most likely in her purse.
A woman would not crawl around under the house and think nothing of coming in and tracking the mud and muck through your entire house. No, a woman would carry a roll of plastic or newspapers just for that purpose.
A woman would not leave the job unfinished only to return not once, but twice-- that's three total visits-- because women know that evenings are important and busy family times.
And a woman, I think, would feel at least some shame in charging you $330 for the pleasure of inconveniencing you beyond all comprehension.
I don't know what they're teaching in plumber school, but I know it isn't best business practices, manners, timeliness, or efficiency. The next time we have a leak, we'll just sell the house.
We have learned a lot from this experience. Primarily what we learned is that all plumbers should be women. Here are my reasons why:
Because a woman would not show up at your house, take a look at the problem, which you already described in detail over the phone, and say she has to go out for a part. No, a woman would have that part with her, most likely in her purse.
A woman would not crawl around under the house and think nothing of coming in and tracking the mud and muck through your entire house. No, a woman would carry a roll of plastic or newspapers just for that purpose.
A woman would not leave the job unfinished only to return not once, but twice-- that's three total visits-- because women know that evenings are important and busy family times.
And a woman, I think, would feel at least some shame in charging you $330 for the pleasure of inconveniencing you beyond all comprehension.
I don't know what they're teaching in plumber school, but I know it isn't best business practices, manners, timeliness, or efficiency. The next time we have a leak, we'll just sell the house.
Thursday, October 18, 2007
Thursday Thirteen: Alternate Careers
I've always known I would be a writer. When I was a little girl, I used to lie awake at night making up stories in my head. I still do that. In the second grade, I won an award from the Young Authors contest. The book was called The Lost Angel. I don't remember how the angel came to be lost or if she ever got found, but I do remember that I enjoyed making up the story. Books and stories have always fascinated me. They are right of there with Michael and chocolate in terms of the things that make life good. Still, as much as I love writing, there are other careers that I think would be fun. Here are thirteen of them:
1. Racecar driver-- Obviously this is pure fantasy, but I do think it would be cool. Probably because I never got to drive-- well, not legally-- the idea fascinates me. However, I'm pretty sure they don't let blind women drive racecars. Or stationwagons. Or go-karts. Or pretty much anything with a motor. I did hear about a blind woman who was a Monster Truck driver. You know, the ones that get to drive over rows of cars and stuff? That would be cool too. I guess you don't need eyesight to drive a great big truck over a bunch of much smaller cars.
2. Speechwriter for the President of the United States-- This was actually my goal during college. But Clinton was President then, and I admit to having a teensy bit of Monica envy. Once Bush was elected, the dream died.
3. Bartender-- Really, who wouldn't want to be a bartender? You get to talk to all kinds of people, and by the end of your shift, you'd probably feel a lot better about your own life after listening to the problems of a bunch of drunks. Plus, there's the tequila.
4. Chef-- I like to cook, but more than that, I like the idea of cooking. And even more than that, I like eating.
5. Crofter in the Scottish Highlands-- I think it would be such a quaint existence. Naturally, I'm romanticizing what is probably a tough life, but that's what alternate realities are for.
6. Organic farmer-- This is a dream that Michael and I have, to live on a big expanse of land and raise sheep and goats and grow organic vegetables and spin our own wool and get our electricity from a windmill. It's a wonderful dream, but it'll never happen because as it turns out, we aren't real into hard work. Maybe I'll write about an organic farmer instead.
7. Fashion designer-- So I could make clothes for real-sized women and get to fondle expensive fabrics.
8. Veterinarian-- I love animals. I am a sucker for a sad-eyed puppy dog, and my black Lab knows this and uses it against me.
9. Herbalist-- I'd like to see a return to some of the old ways of doing things and a trend away from a modern pharmacological fix for everything.
10. Minister-- Essentially, you get to tell people how to live and how to be happy. Way cool. The only problem is that I'm not real on board with Christian dogma or practices. Probably, that's a deal breaker.
11. Taster for Hershey's-- because as referenced above, I like to eat, and mostly what I like to eat is chocolate.
12. Archaeologist-- Traveling all over the world and uncovering the mysteries of the past has to be exciting and rewarding. I love history. Michael and I watch the History Channel and History International religiously-- right up until that Egyptologist guy shows up. What's his name? If you've ever watched a show about Egypt or tombs, you've seen him. What a camera whore.
13. Published author-- Not there yet, but I'm working hard and I'm confident.
1. Racecar driver-- Obviously this is pure fantasy, but I do think it would be cool. Probably because I never got to drive-- well, not legally-- the idea fascinates me. However, I'm pretty sure they don't let blind women drive racecars. Or stationwagons. Or go-karts. Or pretty much anything with a motor. I did hear about a blind woman who was a Monster Truck driver. You know, the ones that get to drive over rows of cars and stuff? That would be cool too. I guess you don't need eyesight to drive a great big truck over a bunch of much smaller cars.
2. Speechwriter for the President of the United States-- This was actually my goal during college. But Clinton was President then, and I admit to having a teensy bit of Monica envy. Once Bush was elected, the dream died.
3. Bartender-- Really, who wouldn't want to be a bartender? You get to talk to all kinds of people, and by the end of your shift, you'd probably feel a lot better about your own life after listening to the problems of a bunch of drunks. Plus, there's the tequila.
4. Chef-- I like to cook, but more than that, I like the idea of cooking. And even more than that, I like eating.
5. Crofter in the Scottish Highlands-- I think it would be such a quaint existence. Naturally, I'm romanticizing what is probably a tough life, but that's what alternate realities are for.
6. Organic farmer-- This is a dream that Michael and I have, to live on a big expanse of land and raise sheep and goats and grow organic vegetables and spin our own wool and get our electricity from a windmill. It's a wonderful dream, but it'll never happen because as it turns out, we aren't real into hard work. Maybe I'll write about an organic farmer instead.
7. Fashion designer-- So I could make clothes for real-sized women and get to fondle expensive fabrics.
8. Veterinarian-- I love animals. I am a sucker for a sad-eyed puppy dog, and my black Lab knows this and uses it against me.
9. Herbalist-- I'd like to see a return to some of the old ways of doing things and a trend away from a modern pharmacological fix for everything.
10. Minister-- Essentially, you get to tell people how to live and how to be happy. Way cool. The only problem is that I'm not real on board with Christian dogma or practices. Probably, that's a deal breaker.
11. Taster for Hershey's-- because as referenced above, I like to eat, and mostly what I like to eat is chocolate.
12. Archaeologist-- Traveling all over the world and uncovering the mysteries of the past has to be exciting and rewarding. I love history. Michael and I watch the History Channel and History International religiously-- right up until that Egyptologist guy shows up. What's his name? If you've ever watched a show about Egypt or tombs, you've seen him. What a camera whore.
13. Published author-- Not there yet, but I'm working hard and I'm confident.
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
Sweating
And not from the freakish eighty degree weather in mid October. I've got an excellent start on my 70-day writing challenge. I've got 3,000 words. Not all of it is new though. Some of it is revision work. My inner editor is a demon and will not be ignored no matter how much I try. So, I'm thrilled with my progress and hope I can keep up the momentum.
Monday, October 15, 2007
Shopping and Other Tortures
I went shopping with my mother yesterday. Shopping is tops on my "things I desperately loathe" list. For starters, I am extremely hard to fit. I hear a lot of women saying that, so I'm starting to think that most of us aren't so very hard to fit, we just don't fit into the fashion industry's narrow ()literally and figuratively) idea of what a woman's body is like. I mean, women have boobs and hips. It's natural. It isn't something we should be ashamed of or work endlessly and tirelessly to change. Boobs and hips serve a purpose. I'd really love to get some acknowledgement of that fact from fashion designers. Personally, I am short and curvy. Yeah, let's go with curvy. I like my curves. I really do have an hourglass figure—it's just that I've got way too much sand in the bottom. I have what my Aunt Alice calls "birthing hips." Lucky me. I also have legs like tree trunks. Is it any wonder I hate shopping? But I have two weddings coming up, my sister's and Michael's sisters, so new clothes were a necessity.
There are certain obvious pitfalls to clothes shopping with one's mother. If we were shopping for furniture or curtains or home decor, she is the go-to woman, but clothes? Not so much. Mom shows me things like denim skirts, and says "But you love denim skirts." Yeah, when I was thirteen maybe. And she shows me pink, ruffley things, and skirts with floral prints. She means well, but ... Well, I'm not really a floral print kind of woman. That's hard to explain to the person who refuses to think of you as anything other than her little girl. And since I'm blind, I have to rely on the opinions of others to a fairly alarming degree. Also because I'm blind, texture matters, and let me just tell you, I have expensive taste in texture.
Fortunately, I did end up finding something that will work for both weddings. I found a nicely tailored black skirt, and a fine-gauge cardigan sweater with bell sleeves and lace trim. It is okay to wear black to weddings these days, isn't it? No wait, don't tell me. I already bought the outfit, so I don't want to know.
Now I just have to find some kind of top to go under the sweater, preferably something in a bright color like red or pink, and some shoes. Oh and pantyhose. Ugh, pantyhose.
In other, totally unrelated news, Saturday was the 700th anniversary of the Vatican's purge of the Knights Templar. I believe the Vatican has since decided that the Templar's weren't heretics after all. Oops. I'm sure that's real comforting to all those who were roasted alive or drawn and quartered. The Vatican, you gotta love 'em.
I gotta tell you, I do love Templar history. I admit to being a sucker for the current Templar action/suspense subgenre spawned by the success of the DaVinci Code. If it says secret society, Holy Grail, or papal history, you can bet it's going home with me.
Today, I begin my 70 Days of Sweat writing Challenge. It will be grueling because I am a slow writer, but it will teach me about time management and effective scheduling. I know, that's a lot to ask of 70 days.
There are certain obvious pitfalls to clothes shopping with one's mother. If we were shopping for furniture or curtains or home decor, she is the go-to woman, but clothes? Not so much. Mom shows me things like denim skirts, and says "But you love denim skirts." Yeah, when I was thirteen maybe. And she shows me pink, ruffley things, and skirts with floral prints. She means well, but ... Well, I'm not really a floral print kind of woman. That's hard to explain to the person who refuses to think of you as anything other than her little girl. And since I'm blind, I have to rely on the opinions of others to a fairly alarming degree. Also because I'm blind, texture matters, and let me just tell you, I have expensive taste in texture.
Fortunately, I did end up finding something that will work for both weddings. I found a nicely tailored black skirt, and a fine-gauge cardigan sweater with bell sleeves and lace trim. It is okay to wear black to weddings these days, isn't it? No wait, don't tell me. I already bought the outfit, so I don't want to know.
Now I just have to find some kind of top to go under the sweater, preferably something in a bright color like red or pink, and some shoes. Oh and pantyhose. Ugh, pantyhose.
In other, totally unrelated news, Saturday was the 700th anniversary of the Vatican's purge of the Knights Templar. I believe the Vatican has since decided that the Templar's weren't heretics after all. Oops. I'm sure that's real comforting to all those who were roasted alive or drawn and quartered. The Vatican, you gotta love 'em.
I gotta tell you, I do love Templar history. I admit to being a sucker for the current Templar action/suspense subgenre spawned by the success of the DaVinci Code. If it says secret society, Holy Grail, or papal history, you can bet it's going home with me.
Today, I begin my 70 Days of Sweat writing Challenge. It will be grueling because I am a slow writer, but it will teach me about time management and effective scheduling. I know, that's a lot to ask of 70 days.
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
Thursday Thirteen-- Favorite Books
I realize that I am posting this on Wednesday, but there's a reason, and it's a tale of two computers, one of which hates Blogger.
I have always been a reader. By the time I was four years old, I had Alice in Wonderland (the Little Golden Book version) memorized cover to cover, and still, I demanded that it be read to me every night at bedtime. That love of books has never waned. I have always understood the power of a good story. Many books have touched me, but the ones listed below are the ones that set up shop and will live with me forever.
1. A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens
2. The Prince of Tides by Pat Conroy
3. Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte
4. The Harry Potter series by J.K. rowling
5. Persuasion by Jane Austen
6. Bridget Jones's diary by Helen fielding
7. Bridget Jones: The Edge of Reason by Helen Fielding
8. Outlander by Diana Gabaldon-- but only the first three quarters. Dragonfly in Amber and Voyager, the next two books in the series, are also excellent.
9. The Mists of Avalon by Marion Zimmer Bradley
10. Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen
11. The Lords of Discipline by Pat Conroy
12. The Stephanie Plum novels by Janet Evanovich
13. Ahab's Wife by Sena Jeter Naslund
I have always been a reader. By the time I was four years old, I had Alice in Wonderland (the Little Golden Book version) memorized cover to cover, and still, I demanded that it be read to me every night at bedtime. That love of books has never waned. I have always understood the power of a good story. Many books have touched me, but the ones listed below are the ones that set up shop and will live with me forever.
1. A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens
2. The Prince of Tides by Pat Conroy
3. Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte
4. The Harry Potter series by J.K. rowling
5. Persuasion by Jane Austen
6. Bridget Jones's diary by Helen fielding
7. Bridget Jones: The Edge of Reason by Helen Fielding
8. Outlander by Diana Gabaldon-- but only the first three quarters. Dragonfly in Amber and Voyager, the next two books in the series, are also excellent.
9. The Mists of Avalon by Marion Zimmer Bradley
10. Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen
11. The Lords of Discipline by Pat Conroy
12. The Stephanie Plum novels by Janet Evanovich
13. Ahab's Wife by Sena Jeter Naslund
Tuesday, October 9, 2007
Red Bean and Cauliflower Salad
Last night, Michael and I had a red bean and cauliflower salad, which is a recipe that I created and that turned out so yummy, I thought I'd share it here, because I have a very giving heart. Here is the recipe. Precise measurement isn't something I have a good grasp of, so just assume that amounts are all "to taste."
1 can red beans, drained and rinsed
1 small head of cauliflower, chopped pretty small
Morning Star bacon-- because we are vegetarian. Use regular bacon if you prefer
chopped green onion
blue cheese crumbles
Dressing is a balsamic glaze. 1 cup balsamic vinegar and 1 tablespoon sugar. Bring to a boil. Turn down heat to a simmer until liquid reduces to a syrup.
Enjoy.
1 can red beans, drained and rinsed
1 small head of cauliflower, chopped pretty small
Morning Star bacon-- because we are vegetarian. Use regular bacon if you prefer
chopped green onion
blue cheese crumbles
Dressing is a balsamic glaze. 1 cup balsamic vinegar and 1 tablespoon sugar. Bring to a boil. Turn down heat to a simmer until liquid reduces to a syrup.
Enjoy.
Monday, October 8, 2007
Knitting Nesting
We went to our local yarn store this weekend, and I had to fight the urge to purchase skein after skein of pastel colored yarn, perfect for baby things. I must say, I did prevail. I only got one pattern book of baby blankets, most of which are well beyond my skill level. Michael though, he succumbed to the temptation and bought yarn and a pattern for a little baby outfit. It's mostly a baby snuggly sack, which will just be adorable. The yarn is yellow Plymouth Encore, which is a very practical wool acrylic blend that we have each done socks in. Michael is working some up now for a hooded sweater for himself.
Here's the thing about me and knitting. I am slooooow. I still have to do the sleeves on a sweater that I started working on in May. The yarn is made of bamboo and wool, and it is wonderful to work with, otherwise I'd probably have moved onto something else by now. I love knitting, I really do. But once you've worked on a project for several months, the romance is sort of gone. Knowing this, I resisted falling in love with new, perfect-for-baby yarns, and precious little patterns. If autumn weather ever gets here, I'm sure my resolve will crumble and I'll find myself knitting up a baby afghan and sipping hot tea.
Here's the thing about me and knitting. I am slooooow. I still have to do the sleeves on a sweater that I started working on in May. The yarn is made of bamboo and wool, and it is wonderful to work with, otherwise I'd probably have moved onto something else by now. I love knitting, I really do. But once you've worked on a project for several months, the romance is sort of gone. Knowing this, I resisted falling in love with new, perfect-for-baby yarns, and precious little patterns. If autumn weather ever gets here, I'm sure my resolve will crumble and I'll find myself knitting up a baby afghan and sipping hot tea.
Thursday, October 4, 2007
Thursday Thirteen: The Soundtrack of My Life
Yarf on the cheezy title, I know. Molly is doing her Thursday Thirteen on what's playing on her Ipod. I don't have an Ipod, because I'm just not cool that way. I have a handy dandy gadget called a Book Courier, which is designed for blind people, and can play MP3s, Audible.com books, and has its own internal voice so it can read text files, which-- let me just tell you-- is cooler than the other side of the pillow. Last week, Amazon.com launched its own digital download site. The list that follows are the songs that I either have downloaded or have put on my list to download in the near future, in addition to songs that I've just been listening to or that have been going through my head.
1. Anything by Patsy Cline-- My current WIP is about a country music singer, and Patsy is the gold standard. If heartache had a voice, it would be hers.
2. Songs of Mass Destruction, Annie Lennox's newest effort
3. Magic, by Bruce Springsteen-- because I can never get enough of the Boss. Dancing in the Dark really should be my anthem.
4. Maggie MacInnes-- She's a Scottish artist with a beautifully haunting voice.
5. "Wild Horses" by the Rolling Stones
6. "Restless" by Alison Krauss and Union Station
7. "Take me out to the Ballgame"-- Because, as I have mentioned at least twice already-- the Cubs are in the play-offs!
8. "Unwritten" by Natasha Bedingfield
9. "Nashville" by the Indigo girls
10. "Wreck of the Day" by Anna Nilak
11. "Hard Luck woman"-- the Garth Brooks version because yes, I admit it, I do love the Garth man.
12. "Waitress" by Tori Amos-- because I really do believe in peace, bitch!
13. "Hedwig's Theme" from the Harry Potter movies, because Michael made it my ringtone.
1. Anything by Patsy Cline-- My current WIP is about a country music singer, and Patsy is the gold standard. If heartache had a voice, it would be hers.
2. Songs of Mass Destruction, Annie Lennox's newest effort
3. Magic, by Bruce Springsteen-- because I can never get enough of the Boss. Dancing in the Dark really should be my anthem.
4. Maggie MacInnes-- She's a Scottish artist with a beautifully haunting voice.
5. "Wild Horses" by the Rolling Stones
6. "Restless" by Alison Krauss and Union Station
7. "Take me out to the Ballgame"-- Because, as I have mentioned at least twice already-- the Cubs are in the play-offs!
8. "Unwritten" by Natasha Bedingfield
9. "Nashville" by the Indigo girls
10. "Wreck of the Day" by Anna Nilak
11. "Hard Luck woman"-- the Garth Brooks version because yes, I admit it, I do love the Garth man.
12. "Waitress" by Tori Amos-- because I really do believe in peace, bitch!
13. "Hedwig's Theme" from the Harry Potter movies, because Michael made it my ringtone.
Monday, October 1, 2007
The Green Light
Yes, it seems I did vanish from the blogosphere, but I am back. My initial absence had to do with a plumbing nightmare at our house, which is not the topic of this entry, but certainly will be in the future because seriously, I have much to say on the state of plumbing in America. Then I was incommunicado because of a wicked bug I must have picked up somewhere. Let's just say "projectile vomiting" and leave it at that. And then there was my scheduled absence, which I was unable to announce to my maybe three regular readers because of said plumbing and vomiting issues. So after much ramble and preamble, here's the point of this entry.
"Go ahead and get pregnant." Those were the words of my neurosurgeon-- let's just call him Dr. Overly Cautious. This is an extremely big deal. It's the equivalent of him throwing us a baby shower. Everything that could have gone right during my week of appointments at the National Institutes of Health did. My hearing has improved to pre-E.L.S.T. surgery levels, the top-notch urology radiologist confirmed that my abdominal CT scan showed perfectly healthy kidneys, adrenals, pancreas, and liver, and of course there's the neuro appointment wherein I got those famous words: "Go ahead and get pregnant."
Michael and I had been withholding any excitement about procreating until after this appointment. And now, I'm sort of terrified because holy crap—we really can do this thing. I guess I never really thought we could, and so wouldn't let myself get too excited about it. A couple of things helped me realize that yes, we really can do this. First, Molly and Dan are the absolute best friends that anybody could ever have—ever! We went to a baby store in Bethesda, and Molly very patiently showed me all the cool baby gadgets that proved to me that the chances of me accidentally drowning my baby in the bathtub are pretty slim. Like, they make tubs and things to prevent it! Who knew? Well yeah, probably everybody, but I didn't. Molly, I love you. And then there's Dan. Dan talks fairly constantly. I'm sure he says lots of profound things, but they sort of get lost in the static, but he happened to have been profound at a time when I must have been paying attention. He told me about this blind couple (both parents were blind) in Kalamazoo who had three kids and how well they managed. Sure, I knew blind people had kids and did it just fine. I even know some of them, but Dan managed to say just the right thing at just the right time, and I hope he knows how much I appreciate it. And then, driving back home to Kentucky, we were listening to the Cubs game on XM radio. The Cubs became the first National League team to clinch a play-off spot. That's the Chicago Cubs, people, the ones who haven't won a World Series since 1908.
A clean bill of health, the green light from my doctors, and the Cubs are in the play-offs-- that's just about all I need in the way of signs from the universe.
"Go ahead and get pregnant." Those were the words of my neurosurgeon-- let's just call him Dr. Overly Cautious. This is an extremely big deal. It's the equivalent of him throwing us a baby shower. Everything that could have gone right during my week of appointments at the National Institutes of Health did. My hearing has improved to pre-E.L.S.T. surgery levels, the top-notch urology radiologist confirmed that my abdominal CT scan showed perfectly healthy kidneys, adrenals, pancreas, and liver, and of course there's the neuro appointment wherein I got those famous words: "Go ahead and get pregnant."
Michael and I had been withholding any excitement about procreating until after this appointment. And now, I'm sort of terrified because holy crap—we really can do this thing. I guess I never really thought we could, and so wouldn't let myself get too excited about it. A couple of things helped me realize that yes, we really can do this. First, Molly and Dan are the absolute best friends that anybody could ever have—ever! We went to a baby store in Bethesda, and Molly very patiently showed me all the cool baby gadgets that proved to me that the chances of me accidentally drowning my baby in the bathtub are pretty slim. Like, they make tubs and things to prevent it! Who knew? Well yeah, probably everybody, but I didn't. Molly, I love you. And then there's Dan. Dan talks fairly constantly. I'm sure he says lots of profound things, but they sort of get lost in the static, but he happened to have been profound at a time when I must have been paying attention. He told me about this blind couple (both parents were blind) in Kalamazoo who had three kids and how well they managed. Sure, I knew blind people had kids and did it just fine. I even know some of them, but Dan managed to say just the right thing at just the right time, and I hope he knows how much I appreciate it. And then, driving back home to Kentucky, we were listening to the Cubs game on XM radio. The Cubs became the first National League team to clinch a play-off spot. That's the Chicago Cubs, people, the ones who haven't won a World Series since 1908.
A clean bill of health, the green light from my doctors, and the Cubs are in the play-offs-- that's just about all I need in the way of signs from the universe.
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