Hurried day.

Let’s see if I can keep it short today, I’m running late!

I wake up miserably cold this day, my hands, which I had prudently stabbed in gloves–I know, I’m insane–the previous night have no feeling in them whatsoever. And when I get out of my warm and cozy bed, mostly because the monsters are making a racket and are pulling at my four blankets to get me awake, I’m literally running towards my fur-lined slippers.

The floor is like ice under my feet, and when I put the slippers on, I literally sigh in relief. A cold northern breeze is blowing off the mountain, and the sun shining brightly overhead, really can’t compete. While the dogs rush out into the yard, I stand there in the doorway, lingering for a moment to soak up the remarkably warm rays of sunlight before I start on the morning rituals.

Despite the cold, I’m feeling pretty okay today, heading for the house with an easy enough stride as the dogs dart around me, seemingly pleased with my good mood.
First things first: No workout today, but there’s the Laundry…I know, tedious subject, but I like a steady rhythm for daily routines too much not to mention it. Somehow the day isn’t complete without doing all the chores, even when I don’t feel like doing them.

I get the big batch hung in reasonable time, big brother working at my side since he’s intent on yapping my ear off about some new ideas for the vampire book series, and miraculously deciding to help out while he does it. He’s still at it when we head into the house and start folding yesterday’s batch, and then move on to breakfast.

Bread with either cheese or peanut butter and honey, gets consumed with OJ while the coffee brews and is separated into two cups.

We decide to go to school today, discussing the plan before we set our computers at the table and get down to our separate interests. Just a few messages today, but time consuming nonetheless. I am unable to fit in either an editing or a writing session and in the end turn the computer of to get ready to go to town.

By this time the sibs have come down already, and little sister promises to have dinner ready for when we get back. With some regret I leave my miserably whining dogs behind and head on up to change my clothes for the trip.

With a lift from a friend, we get to school in time and spend an exhausting two hours behind the test computers. For some reason I can hardly keep my eyes open, there nearing the end, but am pretty pleased with the end result. Did up to twenty tests today and 15 of them were without error. I’m getting there. Slowly, but steadily

School done, we head on over to the home improvement store and spend a harrowing hour searching for what more we’ll need for the kitchen. More primer, drawer handles, electricity supplies and a small batch of screws, before we make our way to the back of the store where the wood is stored. A big board of MDF is picked out, sawed by the store before we’re finally done.

On our way to the register, we see that they have a gas heater on sale, and since several of ours are on the fritz, to say the least, we decide to buy one, now that it’s half the price.
We pile our supplies, and the heater on the back of the truck and start on our way home.

Now this has never happened before, but just as we round a particularly nasty curve on the road leading home, a fierce gust of wind sweeps under the boards, breaking the two in several pieces before literally flying from underneath the ropes that keep them in place. It is really just a whisper of a sound that makes me look back, and it takes me a full four seconds before I realize that they are gone and are still bouncing on the macadam behind us.

I call for our friend to stop the car, and big brother runs towards the boards as our driver backs up to the other side of the road where she’s able to put the car beside the road. It’s a miracle that there was no other car behind us, ‘cause if there had been there might have been a serious disaster.

We manage to pile up the debris that will be useable at least, and head on home, wondering how it could have happened in the first place. It was all tied up, the way it always is, and yet somehow it flew right off, breaking the wood in three places. For this to happen, the wind must have been blowing fiercer than we noticed inside the car…which wouldn’t be the first time. The winds here can be somewhat brutal. It isn’t for nothing that our property is rumored to be “the place where the wind is born” in local legends.

Once home, dinner waits on plates that little sister shoves in our hands the moment we enter. Fried rice with peanuts and coconut shavings, and zucchinis sliced and covered with cheese and herbs, all baked to crispy treats in the oven. Excellent! The dogs are bouncing around me, for a greeting as well as a treat, but I manage to keep them off by keeping the plate high in the air.

Rather than waste time, we get to work on the kitchen immediately afterwards. The sisters start painting, while I put up three covers for the drawers, using a big load of glue and screws to make them solid. Only one that’s dried and ready is in place in the end, but three more will be added to it tomorrow…hopefully. Looking good.

So, one painting/building/redoing session later, (big brother has decided to shift one faucet several inches to the right) midnight’s at hand and time for cleanup has arrived. There was a slight mishap with paint, sending a deep red muck all over our new counter but luckily no damage is done and it’s all removed.

While we’re still cleaning, big brother calls from the kitchen table that we’ve got a “not interested” letter from one of publishers we sent one of my manuscripts to, but I’m not really surprised. The style of my story didn’t really fit with their genre, and thus it was a long shot anyway.

Of course there’s the momentary feeling of disappointment. No matter how you prepare for this particular news, there’s always that nagging feeling of doubt that make one wonder “am I good enough”, is the story good enough?…but I put it aside since there is little more I can do than my best with each and every story that I write.
Worrying about it won’t make it any better in the end.

I head on up to my cabin by the time one in the morning has passed, and my dogs eagerly rush into the cabin as I set about firing up the heater and dispersing food for the poor monsters that really should just eat with the rest of the dogs, but are too picky to actually do so. Hah.

There’s quite a bit of Internet action tonight, the forums I frequent buzzing with conversations that are really interesting, and make me late, as usual, for this Blog.
Once again the day has come to an end much too fast. Oddly enough it always does, whether I want it to or not.