Some ranting and the day.

Song of the “Life for rent” by Dido. Very apt in light of my little rant. Gawd, is it just me, or can people be totally insane? Grrr.

I’m gonna have to rant a bit, ‘cause I’ve been chomping at the bit for most of the day.

In a theme park in England, if the Mercury rises over 25 degrees, patrons are no longer allowed to raise their arms high in the ride. (I know what you’re thinking: Huh???) I’m trying to imagine this, mind you: 25 degrees hit, unlucky fellow in the “Cobra” ride, or whatever, raises his arms, screams his lungs out, and the theme park police pounces: “You raised your arms; you’re outta here! Security, remove this vile smelling creature from the grounds. Undue force is allowed.”
I’m not kidding, the piece states, if patrons raise their arms after all, they will be removed from the grounds.
Okay, I don’t like bodily odors either, but…hellooohoooh…if we start complaining about that sort of thing everyone might as well stay home. I’m serious, I’m always significantly annoyed by traffic jams; solution: Everyone stay home on hot days when I need to go shopping. Let’s make it a rule, and anyone who breaks it can go to jail for a year or two. Aaargh.

Another cute one:

The police in a town in the Netherlands are going to try something new that is absolutely brilliant (yes, don’t worry, that’s just sarcasm that makes the sentence droop off the page). They are going ask civilians to report on their neighbors if they think that the guy next door is driving a car that’s too expensive…’cause let’s face it, any Tom, Dick and Harry who drives a car that’s too expensive has GOT to be a criminal. *snort*
Hmmm. Let me think about that for a minute…….yep, KGB, communism, Kremlin, those are what come to mind with “wonderful” ideas like that. What business is something like that to one’s neighbor? I mean, seriously. Can you imagine how this is going to work? Your neighbor’s P.O.ed at you for…I don’t know…leaving a slipper on the pavement, half an inch off your property, and voila he reports you for having a car that you supposedly can’t afford.
Hello! No one heard of a loan before? Saving up? A small/big inheritance? A promotion that you didn’t share with the entire neighborhood? Jeez, talk about a short circuit in my brain. Disaster waiting to happen, if ya ask me.

Oh yeah, and has anyone noticed how the “get a loan” commercials are now ending their add with “remember, borrowing money costs money”? I was like “What? Really? I had no idea!” I gotta say, anyone who doesn’t know that really shouldn’t be allowed to take out a loan, if ya ask me. Hah.

Also, somewhere in Spain (the madness is not contained to a single country, mind you) I don’t know where, but I’m hoping that they were referring to a single town, not the whole, it is no longer to shout in your own home. I’m not kidding; it was on the news. It is against the rules to SHOUT. Stuff like that makes we want to…eh, yeah, well, SHOUT.

The fun doesn’t stop there, noooh! Here’s a good one:

New electronically enhanced cars (I feared this for years, but what the heck) have a dangerous little side effect. If one crashes into the water, all those nifty electrical wires and whatnot…you know, the kind where you can press a button and the doors will lock, windows close etc. etc. which haven’t been properly closed off, will lock you in your car, with no possibility of getting out. Yep, saw that one coming from a mile off, but now a study makes it fact. (Wonder how much that brilliant deduction cost them.)
Can you imagine the headline? “Family of four survives a car-dive into the water; regretfully they drowned when the windows and doors failed to open.”
No chance of something like that happening when you’ve got one of those little levers that you need to turn around (at least FIVE times…that just won’t do, can’t need to move too much, of course: I know, let’s make it electric!) to get your window down. Or worse yet, imagine having to lean in THREE DIFFERENT directions to lock ALL the doors of your car, to lock it, when you can also do it by pressing a single button. Aaaaah.

‘Tis daft, I tell ya! Daft!!!
Okay, rant over. I really should stay the heck away from asinine news reports.

So let’s get to the day: I am seriously sore all over when I wake up. Yep, hauling twenty bags of forty pound (two at a time) down to the carport might have been overdoing it a bit…especially since I had to haul big ass rocks for…the WALL THAT WENT DOWN! Drat. I just had to go and remind myself of yesterday. And that while I had so successfully suppressed it. Grrr.

I actually slept a full seven hours this night, yeah, I know, it surprised me too, but I conked out last night and was literally out like a light. I did have a dream, but regretfully it faded as soon as I woke up.
No marvelous dream to write about, then. Ah well, no matter. The usual morning rituals ensue… and it looks like it’s going to be a warm day as I head down to the house.

There’s the morning chores, and then it is down to the edit. Only three or four pages get done, but the story is coming along nicely. Six hours after waking up, we’re back outside.
Middle sister starts making cement and to kill time I get busy on the narrow terrace removing the weeds from the mess.

Soon the younger sibs and I start working over by the crashed wall. The first few hours are spent removing debris and dirt, the latter gets dump in an empty container in the small garden. We filled it up and then started pouring concrete on the new, bigger rocks that little brother and I haul down.

We spent another few hours adding to the new section of wall. It’s turning out rather solid; a foot and a half deep, and by the time we finish, two and a half high, and a good foundation for what needs to come on top.

That done, I spend a while putting up a small fence, behind which I plant the two sprouting melon plants that came up, and several cut of plants that should be able to grow on their own as long as they get enough water.
After sweeping the new floor clear of sand and what not, I head inside for dinner and start on the day’s blog…which is when I find out that the publisher has responded at last.

I hold my breath when I open my mail, squeeze my eyes shut for a minute and then start to read:
Though it was a no, it was not a bad letter at all…here are some quotes:

"The project has a very unique premise and I like the way you have written Nina’s character.

It is a solid romance read, but I’m afraid the writing is not as strong as I would like to see for our company.

Fortunately, there are many publishing opportunities currently open to authors and I would encourage you to keep looking for a publisher.

If you are willing to shorten the story, there may be an opportunity for you within one of our other lines. I would query them if you are interested in that option.

Whatever you decide to do, best of luck and thank you again for thinking of us."

I’ve have received worse, so I’m not as bummed as I thought I’d be. I mean, the story didn’t get bashed, and the strong writing…though I will undoubtedly check (again)…is personal perspective in a lot of cases too. Ah well, it just means we’re going to have to send out again, I guess.

A little more laundry to do, probably a lot of talking, checking etc. etc. but much to my relief the day has come to an end and I can crawl in my bed for a much deserved early night.