Zombie dreams, soooo trite.

So, if the saying of: “Don’t lose sight of reality,” is true, doesn’t that mean that reality is not to be trusted? It does seem that way to me, which is why I prefer fiction every day.

Just figured I’d insert a random thought here, hah. Wouldn’t want to be predictable, or anything.

Right, on to more interesting things. Oh yes, my dream. Gotta tell about my dream.

I was at my old house…well, dreaming of it anyway…okay, gotta cut off here for a moment and wonder “out loud”. Does anyone notice how a place that you’ve called home will frequently still be home in dreams, years after actually moving away? I think it took me at least nine years before (in dreams) our present home became more prominent in a variety of dreams. Hmmm, strange how that works.

But, like I was saying: I was in my old house, the woods green in the beginning of summer when something–I don’t recall exactly what–happened that made the sky turn inky black in less than a second. It startled me and for some peculiar reason I got in the Truck (we didn’t get the truck until after 2000, so what it was doing in the dream, I’ve no idea, aaargh. Consistency, Sam. Gotta be consistent) and tore away from the gate to head towards a mountainous area, which would fit our present home more than the old, by the way.
I was tearing over narrow roads, taking hairpin corners at top speed and even skipping several in my haste to get up to a rather sprawling mansion, somewhere near a top.
It was still dark as night, raging winds whirling around me like mad when I get out of the car and turn to get the younger sibs out.
For some reason they were small kids again, which made no sense whatsoever since they’re all fully-grown these days. But anyways, I propped the little sister version on my hip, grabbed middle sister’s wrist and snapped at little brother to keep up while we started running towards the front door.
It was opened the moment we mounted the single step of the large porch, and were ushered inside by a complete stranger that I seemed to know (in the dream) as I handed little sister to mom…she was there too, don’t ask me why, hah…and run to the back of the house where big brother and another version of little brother–this one’s an adult again–were helping a huge amount of, what appear to be, refugees of some sort.
There was a hubbub going on all around, men and woman carrying heavy guns, pitchforks and whatnot, children being cornered by older kids so they weren’t in the way, and flashlights being used rather than actual lights.
I appeared to know what’s going on; ‘cause I nodded at the instructions the man beside me was giving (how, I don’t know, because thinking back of it, he spoke in some unfamiliar language).
There was this tremendous patio where everyone was scattered around, climbing up the huge walls and taking up battle stations…I know what you’re thinking, “What the heck is going on?” the thought kept playing through my mind, too…while I grabbed some sort of sawed-off buckshot that was tossed in my direction by another “familiar” stranger and took up position near a lower section of the wall and peer out into the darkness.
I was positioned at a vantage point of sorts, my eyes rapidly adjusting to the darkness below when the flashlights were behind me at last.
I saw a jagged road, crisscrossing up the mountain on which the villa was location, and with a glance backwards I could see more mountain tower overhead.
The road was deserted, and hours appeared to pass before suddenly a warning whistle from big brother (he was perched nearby) alerted me of the movement going on where the road first appeared behind a rocky outcropping.
Thunder suddenly crashed overhead…strangely enough without lightning…making the ground shake ominously as the people around me jumped right along with me.
By the time the rumble died down the movement appeared to be a lot closer, showing outlines of human shapes, rapidly making their way up.
I squinted at them, making out that they swayed oddly even with the peculiar speed.
“Hold!” someone called urgently then, right on time too since I felt this sense of impending doom at the approaching figure, and really wanted to let loose with the buckshot. “Wait for it. Wait!”
The figures, hundreds of them, amazingly, crossed at least two thirds of the distance in that short time, allowing my to grimace at the sight of disfigured faces, gaping holes and even missing limbs.
Friggin’ zombies are attacking? How trite! I remember thinking, even as I loaded the shotgun to readiness and managed not to flinch with the second thunderous boom that made the ground tremble again.
The zombies reached a messy hedge by that time, which appeared to be the universal sign for everyone to start shooting at the howling creatures as they increased their speed.
There were lots of full hits from a variety of weapons, mine included, and yet the zombies (Gawd, I still can’t believe I dreamt about zombies. How lame is that?) barely paused their stride as they headed straight for us. Pitchforks, bats–and anything else that was likely to serve as a weapon–appeared all around me, and more people gathered by the walls as the earth shook. By that time the first zombies hit the wall and started to climb up as if they had a ladder against it.
My ammo went out, just when some butt-ugly face appeared over the edge of the wall, and I slam the bud right there, where the nose was supposed to be. There was a satisfying crack while the creature was sent sprawling. (Very Resident Evil-like, hah) Another jumps right up on the wall, and I’m about to give him the same treatment when suddenly…the alarm screeches and declares the dream officially over.

Jeez. Just when things start to get remotely interesting, too.
I groan when I open my eyes and peer straight into Chaos’ nose, lying less than two inches from my own. Aaargh. He, of course wags his tail affectionately with the realization that I’m awake.
I gotta work on the timing of my dreams, the bloody alarm always messes with the ending and that is getting to be a little more than annoying.

But anyways, while I’m stretching and yawning, working the kinks from my shoulders and back, Knight II decides that I’m not fast enough and bounces right onto the center of the bed, just barely missing my gut…this of course because I saw him coming and managed to role aside in the nick of time, but still. Hah.

While going over the dream and wondering if I might be able to use the theme in one of the books, I roll out of bed to let the pack outside to start on the morning rituals.
Luckily I’m not so sore today, and actually manage to move around with a little more dignity than usual. Sure, my hair stands up every which way, my eyes are puffy with too little sleep and my pjs are twisted around me, but that doesn’t take away from the fact that I’m not moving like an old crone this morning.

Once done with the morning rituals, and helping Bommel out of the cabin–he seems to be feeling a bit better today–I take the pack down to the house an hour earlier than usual. They’re bit confused with the time change, but act their average chaotic selves when I throw the gate open and let them stream into the courtyard.

Lhabana and Sitabah are still having a disagreement so I snarl at them to stop…well, snarling, and then follow them into the house.
Big brother is already up, and has coffee percolating, thank God.
My eyes refuse to open more than halfway, and stay that way for a full hour while I try to boost my system with two full mugs of coffee.

By the time the caffeine finally kicks in, we’re already well into the edit, managing to go over at least ten pages (this is a section that was already done, but needed a reread due to the massive changes) before the hour of our departure arrives.

We’re running a little behind for our lessons–however frustrating at times, edits are all-consuming–and need to hurry to town in order to make it in time.
Since I function better as the first doing the practical, I take my place for the hour and a half lesson that lies ahead, while big brother sits behind me. Because he functions better later on, it works out really well. Me, on the other hand, an hour into the lessons and my brain starts to turn to mush.

Ah well, during the first section of the lesson I actually manage to strike up a bit of conversation with the instructor–I figure that if he’s busy talking about normal stuff, at least he’ll stop giving instructions…it works hah–and actually manage the first forty-five minutes of the lesson without too much errors. It’s the next sections when my reactions start to dwindle. Nothing disastrous, mind you, just those lousy little errors that make the instructor frown.

Let’s just say it didn’t go as well as it could have and keep it at that, rather than spending another two pages rattling on about all the things that I did wrong.
I do have to share one particular thing the instructor said…compliments from instructors are so rare, you understand…he said that we were both really good, it was just that in order to make the exams we don’t need to be good, but we need to be CORRECT. Goes to show what the bureaucrats consider important, I guess. It’s just nutty.

But anyways, when it’s big brother’s turn, we exchange places and I settle back to do something constructive with the hour and a half that’s still ahead. While listening partly to the conversation going on before me, I actually manage to jot down a draft for a query letter that I still needed to write. I need to send out lots of letters in the near future for “Saving Nina”, and am most pleased that I’ve got a good start during this otherwise wasted time.

Since, by time I finish, we still have a good half hour to go, I continue writing on the notepad and get down a scene that needs to be inserted into the manuscript before it’s fully done. Pretty darn pleased with myself, I finish just about the time our lessons are over and our ride home arrives.
Two more lessons to go and then the exams, and I didn’t worry about it for even five minutes. That’s gotta be a record. Hah.

When we arrive home, little sister has dinner waiting, and basically we wolf it down before setting up the computers and getting to work.
No edits tonight. Big brother is researching the paperwprl we need to go to Createspace, and if we’re lucky, maybe even Kindle, while I work at Lulu.com to get a W.I. Volume ready to send out to a reviewer.

I’m sending it straight from the publisher, which is new for me, so I hope that it all goes well. It’s a pity that he prefers hardcopy over PDF files, but I have to know if this works anyway. Might as well be now.
I do wish the publisher figured out a satisfactory solution for getting my copies to me, because having none in stock is turning out to be a serious pain in the butt.

Now, added to a review of the story I’m even doing an interview, can you imagine?
It’s kind of exciting, an interview. Only did one in the past, which was mostly about me personally, but now I get to answer questions about the W.I.s, instead. The how, when and why I created them, what I’m trying to do with them etc. etc. It’s something new, and that is always a wonderful challenge.

Since I’m over at my storefront anyway, I decide to change the main page too. The old one was still good, but I thought a change wouldn’t hurt. It actually looks kind of cheerful right now, which could be a good thing, I guess.

When I finish everything up, midnight has arrived and after some mindless banter with the sibs, I head on up to my cabin for the last part of the evening.

Sure, the lesson thing hacks into a day, but I got stuff done today, and that makes this a good one.

Digging mud, yeah!

Bommel didn’t feel well last night. He was moaning around bedtime, and even vomited before settling (still moaning) on the floor, rather than his favorite cushion. I was quite worried when I finally went to bed, keeping a wary eye on the bobtail until I drifted off to sleep.

I get up an hour earlier than usual, knowing that in order to get anything done in the next week, I need that extra hour in the morning. I’m sore as…well, very sore when I wake up. At least fifteen minutes pass before I’m able to move without every inch of my body complaining like mad.

But anyway, Bommel looks a little wan (or pale) but otherwise he seems all right and once I’ve gone through the stretches and the morning rituals I chase the other dogs from the porch. The old bobtail needs some peace and quiet to climb down, and he does so slowly while I head down, alternating between watching him and the rest of my pack.

Once inside, I find big brother already at his computer, attempting to get the satellite receiver working, and frustrated like heck about not managing it.
We have breakfast, hovering over the website that should enable the procedure, but when the wanted result is unable to attain, we set up at the table and return to our edits.

We work for several hours, getting through several pages until the younger sibs arrive and it’s time to get outside and tackle the garden project again. The first hour is spent gathering debris from the center garden, piling everything on the truck bed, and tying it all up.

We also dig out a pile of tiles that we have been saving for several years now, neatly putting them away where the dogs will not break them, or spread them out of the rocks the way they did on the old location. Hah. During this time, Big brother leaves to go to the satellite store in the village and I head down the mountain with the younger sibs.

The huge strips of the old liner need to be removed today, and we drag them out, roll them up and tie them together in manageable packages so little brother and I can carry them up to the first gate for later disposal.

Knight II is being a pain, and in the midst of the heavy task I need to put everything aside to discipline him firmly. After five minutes of sit and follow exercises he finally calms down enough for me to move around without the constant risk of the Great Dane bowling me over.

Four trips later, and breathing hard, we take a short breather before little sister and I join middle sister in the corner where muddy dirt is still piled up high. Little brother departs to start on dinner and we tackle the mess, slowly digging our way through it and wheeling it away to a different terrace.

Eight full wheelbarrows removed, a semblance of the rocky corner is finally in view, along with the concrete gutter located on top of it. Over the years it filled up completely, serving as a planter for weeds and vines that now need to be hacked through until we can remove at least three yards of hard-packed dirt.

Pretty exhausted from the shoveling and carting the heavy mud away, we trudge up the mountain to return to the house.
Little brother is preparing homemade pizza (regretfully he’s not gotten further than preparing the crust yet) and is trying to work on the toppings and crust at the same time. Considering we all really want to eat fast, little sister and I join in, while middle sister heads to the carport to get the dog food.

I can only muster the energy to roll out the crust for one pie, so little brother is on his own with the second as I take to grating the cheese, giving the requested instructions for the oven.

Sixty minutes later dinner is devoured, sending everyone to the location of his or her choice, pleasantly stuffed. I settle at the table, taking two tops that need repairing from a bag and notice my hands shake when I try to get the thread through the needle.
In the end I manage, and sew while watching another recorded episode of “Life”.

Bommel still isn’t feeling well. He’s lying at my feet and raises his head every once in a while for a pat. Big brother and I resume our edit, but neither one of us really has the energy to get a lot done. In the end we call it a day half an hour before midnight and I head up to my cabin for the evening rituals.

I’m so not looking forward to tomorrow. Lesson day, darn it! It is totally ruining something that I love. Ah well, what has to be done, has to be done in the end, I guess. No sense worrying about it unnecessarily, it won’t help anyway.
For now, I’m just not going to think about it.

Ehm...yeah...busy day.

There were strange dreams this night, though I can’t really remember what they were about. It was strange on the overall, and it made me feel…well, out of sorts when I woke up at the sound of the alarm.

After the morning rituals and bringing the dogs down to the house, I get to taking down the dry laundry immediately. It’s a big batch, and it isn’t until forty minutes later–it needs to be folded, of course–that I get to breakfast and a much-needed coffee.

Once settled behind the computer and tackling the edits once more, the day slowly progresses as we improve on the story with another read through of the past few days’ progress. Once that is done we move on to the next section, managing about one page before it is time to head on outside to see what else needs to be done.

The rooms by the pool, which have been used as storage for the past few years, are a mess, and while little sister starts dragging stuff out. I get the wheelbarrow and push the mess up to the truck. It isn’t pleasant work; I’ll say that much about it. Rolling the wheelbarrow up the steep incline while it’s stuffed with moldy substances that need to be brought to the landfill is murder on the knees, actually.

While little sister and I are tackling the rooms and emptying them from two years of neglect, our two brothers are attempting another fire at the bottom of the property. Though they manage parts of it, the grass around it is already becoming too dry to do it safely, so that effort is ceased in the middle. They too join the cleanup.

By the time I get the first batch up the mountain, I’m breathing hard and sweating somewhat fierce. By the fifth trip I can hardly put one foot before the other–either up or down–so we do a much needed shift change. The next few trips are up to little brother, leaving the last ones for big brother and grandpa when at last the first room is empty of debris and we can actually walking inside without tripping over moldy torn cartons and what not.

Once the room is done, leaving anything that is still useable neatly stored in the second one, we start on the weeds and dried mud that covers the path leading to the entrance.
At least three wheelbarrows get wheeled away, along with a nice big pile of weeds until at last the path is cleared and the rock floor is revealed.

Little sister is sweeping the stairs, big brother is stripping the three acacia trees of dead branches, and middle sister takes the shovel on up to the terrace to tackle the dried mud that has gathered in the north corner. Once we’re done with the lower section I pick up tools and mount the steps to take the lounge chairs that got blown down during the last storm.

Since middle sister needs to use the pitchfork in the corner–vines have twined their way into the dirt–we exchange tools so I can start removing the composting fruits of the dead palm tree and make the path towards the terrace more accessible. It’s slow going, the dirt hard and rocks making easy stabs with the shovel practically impossible. It takes up to thirty minutes before I suddenly notice that the younger sibs have disappeared.

We joke about it, coming up with outrageous stories as to why they departed and work well past sundown by dragging strips of the old pool liner half way up the path. A little mishap occurs while we’re dragging the liner pieces out. I have grabbed Knight II by his collar to keep him out of the way, and while I’m distracted with trying to tug the heavy materials to the side, he moves back…slamming full force into my still bad knee.

Now, the joint hadn’t been agreeing with all the walking up and down in the first place, but this is just a bit too much. A burning flash goes up and down the limb, almost making it buckle when I stumble back and wrap my hands around it. Startled with my pained gasp (and ensuing swearword, huh) middle sister gratefully grabs hold of the big Dane while I carefully lower myself on the low wall.

Holy crap that hurt! The burning sensation goes up and down and continues to do so for several minutes until the entire leg feels…well, pleasantly numb. The Dane must have hit a nerve when he backed into me. Imagine a really painful version of hitting one’s elbow on something hard.

Once the discomfort subsides a little, I resume dragging the liner pieces away.
Later we’ll have to load it all in the truck, but not tonight.
In the end, sore and exhausted, we crawl up the mountain and enter the house where the younger sibs demand what the heck took us so long.

As it turns out they thought that we were calling it a day when I started to gather tools, hah. No harm done, however. Mom made a slight miscalculation with the night’s dinner, so they spent the time adding some extras to fill everyone’s stomach.
Limping a little, I fill my plate, grab a bag of frozen peas and hobble over to a chair with the promise of sweet relief for the dratted knee.

Something is wrong with our satellite reception at the moment–we have no idea what–so during dinner we make due with a recorded episode of “Burn Notice” and “Life” before we shut the TV off entirely. On the bright side we save on expenses this way, and settle behind our computers to get some more work done on the book.

My shoulders and back are hurting like heck, what with pushing the heavy wheelbarrow around and the shoveling, so before “digging in” I decide to hang on the bar for at least thirty seconds allowing my spine to rearrange the way it’s supposed to. It helps my shoulders too, since now the pain is no longer on the bottom of the shoulder blades, but the top of the sockets instead. Neat how that works. Hah.

For the next couple of hours, big brother and I go through three more pages of “Saving Nina”, bringing the edited section of the story up to one third of the whole, yay. Now we’re getting somewhere. There were some hiccups during the process; a description of two intruders, barely visible in the darkness, but the protagonists still being able to see that they were armed, but we managed to struggle through it in the end…as usual.

There are a lot of distractions during the edit. Several dogs come near for a petting, which results in the removal of scores of ticks–the blasted little critters are starting to appear everywhere–that are hidden under thick and thin fur alike. Admittedly, it is a nasty side effect of letting the dogs roam free, but luckily our loyal four-legged companions love the attention.

Though I hadn’t thought that I’d be able to muster the energy to do another edit session this evening, we do make our quota of the day. I’d already decided, that if we were too tired, I would head to my room early, but by the time we resurface, it’s past midnight and I have to rush on up to my cabin.

I feed the dogs that appear hungrier than usual today diving on the food as if they haven’t already eaten at the house.
Afterwards I’m startled for a moment when Knight II comes to stand in front of me for attention and loud noises come from him. He ate so fast his insides appear to be singing…literally…Hah. Never heard anything like it.

After a quick read, putting my clean laundry away, and setting to rights–sort of–the bedroom, I switch the laptop on and get to work.

Building some, yay.

Last night I was determined not to think of the lessons at all, until the day I actually have to do it. Two hours after bedtime, without really noticing it, I’m still thinking about the friggin’ lesson that was and the three that are still to come…and then I’m not even mentioning the exams that will follow. This friggin’ brain just won’t stop. It drives me bonkers sometimes.

For two whole hours stuff like: smoother, smoother, faster, faster, stop now…not here, go there, go here, did you see that, did you notice this? Aargh. Finally, upon realizing that I was still thinking about the crap, I started chanting, “Stop! Stop! Stopstopstopstop!” in my head until I finally fell asleep.

It’s a miracle I’m still sane this morning when I wake up at the sound of the alarm. (I know, whether I’m sane or not is open for debate, but what the heck.) Though somewhat sore like yesterday, I’m feeling a tad better when I get up from the bed and let the dogs out so I can do my stretches.

Today isn’t looking promising, even though the weather appears to be pleasant enough. The sun shines brightly and only a minimal amount of clouds dot the sky overhead when I head down to the house to tackle the massive amount laundry that I forgot to do yesterday.

Luckily big brother offers to help while grandpa stands close talking pleasantly about whatever it was he’s heard on TV. It makes for a nice change to my usual humming. Hah. It takes almost forty minutes to hang and fold it all, and by that time my stomach is snarling for food. After a quick breakfast and a big mug of coffee in hand we set up our computers to start on today’s editing session.

We come upon a particularly complicated scene that requires a lot of time and attention. It turns out that even though the scene is good, it needs quite a few adjustments to really make sense. It wasn’t wrong before, just not complete…if that makes any sense?

For several hours we ruthlessly hack our way through grammar and general structure, basically rewriting the scene, until, when it’s time for us to get ready to go to the village, we’ve added four more pages to the “done” section of the book.
While we get ready to depart a strong northern wind picks up, making things look bleak for our intended bonfire. It’s stirring up to be a nice storm that’ll make fire just too dangerous. Blast it!

But first, mom has an appointment with the doctor, and I need to be there because the spot he operated on a couple of months ago feels tender again. We’ve decided that, rather than letting things get out of hand, like the last time, he better check it out.
The plan is (while we’re at the doc’s) for big brother to visit local paper stores in search for U.S. letter size paper…though it is doubtful that we’ll be able to get it ‘round here.

The way towards the village is under construction–for some reason the county thinks people need a bloody four-lane road to get from one village to the next–so it’s a bumpy ride that goes annoyingly slow.

Once the doctor’s appointment is over and done with, and the search for paper has turned out to be completely useless, we head back home, knowing that, by the time we get closer to home that the wind hasn’t stopped, but increased. No outside work today, much to my regret. I was kind of looking forward to working up a sweat. It is the best way to deal with the stress that has been accumulating during the past week.

But anyways, when we arrive home, little brother has prepared pasta with sauce for dinner and we eat it quickly, since–now that gardening is out of the question–we’ve decided that I will go up to little sister’s room and work on the cabinets under her bed. According to her the backs have been pushed out due to a lack of space, so while I take away the mattress and bottom alike, I start examining the cabinets to figure out how I can make them a bit deeper.

Since I have the supplies and tools I need to do the job, it doesn’t take long to come up with a plan. By making a sturdy back I can add a good five inches to the cabinets without much trouble. Instead of fastening the back to the old section, I set it at a slight distance, add two side panels and a top, and voila, new storage capacity in just a few hours.

Because the sibs are more than old enough to do this kind of stuff themselves, I take the time to let little sister do a lot of the work herself, explaining to her the entire process as the cabinets get built. I tell her of the little tricks that will make carpentry easier, how to use the drill properly and all those things she needs to know to be able to do this on her own at some point in the future.

I hear an occasional howl from my pack, which I couldn’t take up with me due to the younger sibs’ dogs seeing the upper part of the house as their territory, I already know that my canine companions are going to throw up quite a fuss when I return.

Once we’re done it is close to midnight, and I head down to the living area to relax a bit. Throughout the hours that I was busy with little sister, big brother has been working on the book some more, doing another round of what we’ve recently added and taking out those remaining typos that keep sneaking back into the manuscript.

After a quick snack, lots of drinking (the work made me parched) and a much-deserved cigarette the hour has passed and it’s time for me to head up to the cabin. My dogs are waiting to be fed, the evening rituals and even some cleanup chores need to be done and then it’s on to the blog.

A slow and long day, but luckily we got something done.

Ehm...No title?

Let’s see if we can keep this short today, ‘cause not all that much happened…and I’m really not in the mood for this. Hah.

I wake up my usual time this morning, my body pretty darn sore all over, and needing a solid ten minutes of stretches to start to function properly. My back complains, my muscles ache and on the overall, until I finish the stretches, it is mighty uncomfortable.

Though the weather is still cool, the sun is shining again, allowing me to head down in full sunlight and a fresh spring breeze coming from the west, I believe. The dogs, as always eager to start on the day, rush into the courtyard ahead of me, and then into the house where the usual ruckus ensues, due to big brother’s canine companions waiting for us.

There isn’t much time for anything, and after a quick shower, breakfast and a large mug of coffee I settle behind my computer to do some more filing. I do a few more copies and pasts, shift stuff around and then it is time to get going.

We have an appointment for a three-hour lesson in town, and in order to get there in time we have to arrive there less than three hours after awakening. We get there right on time, heading on out with the instructor for the exhausting task of fine-tuning our technique.

It doesn’t go bad, or anything. As a matter of fact the instructor is confident enough to say that next Wednesday we should be ready for our exams. He does state that he wishes us to have six more hours of instructions before that, however, so Friday, Monday and Tuesday will be quite busy for us.

I hate it how these “instructions” intrude on our daily routines, especially since it takes us away from far more important tasks for almost five hours. It’s such a waste, but also necessary, I know. But anyway, once we return, set our appointments and talk with our teacher and instructor alike, we’re heading over to the supermarket for a few quick groceries and then home.

I find myself a tad subdued once we’ve greeted the exuberant dogs, had dinner and finally settle down to relax a bit. I really shouldn’t just sit down, but the lesson was like those that came before: Draining.
Heck, I can barely think, let alone act.

Clue, our pointer that got operated on last week, got the drain removed from his side today, and is desperately trying to get past the cone collar that is protecting the stitches from removal. When he fails to get to it, he moves over to me for a proper petting, sticking the cone in my chest so I can scratch his poor itchy ears. There’s a lot of moaning coming from him during the petting, proving that the restrictive collar is keeping him from the much needed scratching.

Later in the evening after watching an episode of “CSI” and “Bones” big brother and I both make a foray into editing again. We manage little more than a page, however, and finally decide on searching a variety of databases for agents and publishers once more, for when we start sending out the latest manuscripts.
The entire procedure mixes with the constant search of ticks on plenty of dog bodies. The dogs really enjoy it too, since they all come heading towards us one at a time for their turn. Already the tick problem is growing, the average dog counting at least twenty every day, demanding a lot of time so we can remove them. We really have to start thinking about that bath for them, soon.

Around midnight we sign off and resign for the night.
Once up in my room, after feeding the dogs and going through the evening rituals, I do a few exercises. I would have liked to do a full workout today, if for no other reason than to get rid of the lethargy swirling inside me, but since that this isn’t smart just a couple of hours before sleep, I make due.

Once the dogs are done eating, and I’ve changed into my pjs, it’s time for today’s blog (it’s rather boring, I know) and a quick circulation of the Net. Let’s hope tomorrow will be more interesting.

Files, files, and more files...and gardening, of course.

Another dreary day arrives with chilly temperatures that send me hurrying through the morning rituals, rather than loosing the warmth the night under my blankets offered. Instead of lingering on my usual reading, I immediately take the dogs down to the house and start on breakfast of fresh French bread and a mug of coffee on the side.

Tomorrow’s lesson is looming, and what with the rather nightmarish dream that haunted me this night, I’m valiantly struggle against thinking about tomorrow. I hate it when worries, such as lessons, keep intruding on the more important aspects of the day.

I mean, seriously, what use does anyone have of worrying about something that hasn’t even occurred yet? Nothing! It will just keep you from being constructive and that is what I dislike most. Besides, it’s not as if the lessons are that horrid. Its just correcting technicalities, for God’s sake, nothing more.

Once big brother and I have settled behind our computers we get to the edit project without delay.
Thoughts of tomorrow thankfully recede quickly, allowing the focus we need.
During the night big brother has done another quick read-through and only found a few remaining typos which we go through before resuming the actual job with renewed enthusiasm.

We manage four pages in the few hours that pass, and don’t stop until we’re running half an hour behind on the day’s plan of tackling the garden once more.
In the early hours of morning grandpa and our friend Danni went out to get a batch of rocks from a nearby dumpsite and it fills the back of the truck to the top when we come outside.

This is the first task of the day and for the next hour or so we transfer up to a thousand pounds of rock to where it will be stored for the next few months. Working as a chain, the work goes expeditiously, giving a nice pile to start with…some day.
It’s backbreaking, really, lifting the forty-pound rocks over shoulder height fencing, but since we don’t want to risk letting the dogs out into the top garden, it has to be done.

It is a future project we’re planning, really, and for the duration of spring lots more rocks will be necessary until we have enough to build the wall that needs to be erected on the north side of the courtyard. Until now this side is still a mix of natural rock and sand, slowly degrading during the rainy season, but one day a twelve feet wall will have to be put up to keep the soil from eroding. It’ll be a monumental task for sure, but once it’s done, it should look beautiful.

That done, we disperse all over the property. The two youngest sibs start on the weeds that cover the steep path down to the bus, while I attack the last section of vines and other growths, hemming in the large cacti right beside the basement door. Middle sister continues with the remaining mess on the terrace around the old pool, while big brother ascend into it to relight the fire for the burning of more debris.

Rapidly the smoke begins to rise again, and by the time I finish with the section I intended to clear today, we are discussing whether or not we ought to go down to the lowest level of the garden to start a fire there as well. Though we intended to leave the debris to turn into compost in time, we now doubt if we should.

However easy it is to just leave it all lying on the steep incline, there is the issue of when summer arrives. First of all, it’s a fire hazard. And second: Snakes! During the hotter months of the year they’ll be out and about, while searching for cool spots during the hottest hours of the day…which makes them a danger to the dogs, should they venture into the piles of branches and vines that are perfect hideouts for the slithering serpents.

By the time we make a decision it really is too late to start a new fire, and settle for the one we already have by lugging up several of the larger items. Since the fire is burning anyway, and no one is really feeling up to a cooking session, we repeat yesterday’s treat of potatoes and carrots.

While they’re roasting away, I tackle the dead palm tree, hacking my way through sharp spikes and pulling a variety of muscles when the stupid hard leaves refuse to give. I also get quite a start when, while chopping at the joints, I come upon a scaring amount of gigantic larvae. The big ugly round things are the size of my thumb, for crying out loud, and they move like a gullet swallowing, or something. Gross! I wouldn’t be surprised if they’re the cause of the tree’s untimely demise.

Sporting several puncture wounds from the spiky leaves I finally give up three quarter through this particular task and start taking out the splinters that have lodged themselves in my arms.
By the time we finish–darkness is rapidly descending–the veggies are done and ready for eating.

With the nice stash in a couple of small buckets, we head on up to the house to wash up–I decide to use disinfectant due to the holes in my skin–and start on dinner. During the meal we watch a new episode of “Medium” (it wasn’t as good as usual, but still entertaining) before we shut the TV off and turn the computers back on.

For the next few hours I work on organizing my files, copying and pasting chapters together and then sitting back to stare at the end-result in triumph.

As it turns out I have 21 completed manuscripts for the “finished” file. They still need to be edited, of course, but still…I certainly like the number, no matter that it isn’t even. Hah.

Two more are complete as well, but they need a serious rewrite since they’re more than 300.000 words each. Aaargh. I’m dreading the day when I decide to tackle them. I imagine there will be a lot of eye rolling from yours truly, because I wrote them as a teenager. My writing has changed a lot since then…thankfully.

Then there is a file of “edited and done” counting up to a fun total of six, yay! Soon the one we’re working on right now will be added to that one, but until that time, I’ll just enjoy the (even) number.

And last but not least the “Work in progress” file of stories that are around halfway done. The wonderful list (I love well organized lists) goes up into the twenties as well, and leaves the last file for beginnings of stories I started with at some point, but haven’t gotten around to yet.
This file “future projects” will contain the remainder of my work…once I’ve managed to retrieve them from the maze that I used to call my dossiers. Hah.

Gawd, I never realized how much I’ve written over the past eighteen years. It makes me wonder how I ever managed it in the first place…well, maybe back in the day I had less on my plate than I do now, but still, it’s an overwhelming amount of data.

It’s amazing to go through old files the way I’ve been doing today. Reminiscing, rereading bits and pieces and thinking; “Heck, I forgot all about that one,” and “Did I write that? It’s actually pretty darn good!” Hah.

But anyways, once I’ve finished organizing the most important files and big brother has copied them for his computer as well, we resume editing for the last hour of the evening. Adding another page or two, we call it a day after midnight, and we each retire to our quarters for the night.

Once I’ve fed the pack, did some reading and messed around my cabin for a bit, I turn on the computer for today’s blog and get started.

Lots got done again, but considering that tomorrow will be taxing and busier than I’d like it to be (and not in a good way, since editing will not fit into it) that is a good thing.

Carpe Diem! Perhaps I should take that cliché phrase to heart tomorrow.

Spring Bonfire...sorta.

I wake to a dreary morning. A thick carpet of clouds blocks out the sky, and the temperatures are downright chilly when I wince at the sound of the alarm. Rather than get up, the way I should, I lie in bed, staring out the window at the miserable gray light, wondering if I can get away with another hour of sleep.

First thing’s first, however, the dogs need to be let outside before they play havoc with the insides of the cabin. Their eagerness to face the day is so painfully obvious that I fight the instinct for a snooze. Shutting off the alarm, I roll from the bed and stumble my way to the door, trying to keep Knight II at bay.

Once they’re out I’m completely awake, much to my regret. I make the bed and start on the morning rituals so I can get to the house and face the day as well.
After the usual hour of getting up-to-date with grandpa and breakfast big brother and I settle by our computers.

Deciding that a short break in the edit is warranted, we start on the monumental task of going through my extensive files and make a first stab at trying to create some sort of order in the chaos. It is going to take quite some time, we soon find. There is an eclectic mix of almost eighteen years of daily writing saved in more files than I even want to contemplate at this point.

I never think about the amount of data I wrote down over the years, but going through it, the mess is daunting at the very least. We spent several hours organizing, barely scratching the surface, for crying out loud.

A lot of the finished manuscripts were written in old WordPerfect files, and rather than using one file for one book, they are separated in chapters, due to WP’s problem with big files. This means that, in order to get some order, I’m going to have to spend more time than I have on copying and pasting everything together. Aaargh.

But anyways, gardening time arrives and the computers are put aside in favor of the great outdoors. As was discussed last night, we have elected today as clean-up day. Which means that we head for the old pool–a huge amount of debris have been tossed into it during our trimming, cutting and weeding–to see about creating enough room for a proper spring bonfire.

As is habit in this area, bio debris are still burned, creating a wonderful supplement for the earth once nothing but charcoal remains of the mess. This is the first time that we have such a large amount to get rid of, though, so the most important thing is to do it safely.

Considering that the pool is made of concrete we feel pretty confident by the time little sister has made a nice little pile to light up in the deep end’s center. While the sibs keep the dogs at bay, I head for the pile, spray a little fire exhilarant on top and squat down to hold a flame to several sections until it springs to life.

Slowly, but steadily a solid fire builds up and as big brother is using the chainsaw on the large dead conifers that we dumped inside the pool, middle sister and I begin to feed wood and leaves to the fire. Rapidly a huge fire blazes within the safe confines of the concrete, sending out a tremendous (rather uncomfortable) heat.

Little sister and brother are working around the pool, clearing the tiles and adding more to the flames, while the dogs settle comfortable within reach of the pulsing waves coming from the hearth.

It is quite funny, there we are going out of our way to keep our faces and other parts away from the scorching heat, and the dogs settle at a nine feet distance, cozily watching the flames eat their way through debris.
You’d think they’re wary of fire, but they treat the bonfire as a stove lit for the sole purpose of warming them on the cold spring day. Hah. Idiots! Smart, but still…

Considering we’re all lugging debris to the flames, going back and forth, none of us particularly like the idea of needing to make dinner later on, so little brother heads for the house to get a batch of potatoes and carrots. Might as well use the heat we’re generating for a proper meal later on.

After wrapping the vegetables in aluminum foil I toss them into the glowing embers under the fire while more wood is added in the hour that follows. By the time the meal is “cooked” we have a short break–almost two thirds of the mess is burning on the pile by then–to devour the delicious veggies that never tasted this good.

Strange how hard work combined with the woodsy taste of the roasted potatoes can make ones mouth water. Yum. With just a bit of salt, some ketchup and mayonnaise we all ate the snack and were thoroughly revitalized to finish the job. The carrots were an experiment, really, but man, were they good! We really need to start thinking about building a proper barbeque one of these days.

The evening has already started by the time we’re finally done and start heading for the house. The smell of smoke is heavy in the air, but it’s not an unpleasant smell at all. My skin does feel grimy, however, so as soon as we’ve relaxed for a bit I intend to take a long hot shower.

We watch and episode of “The Closer”, during which I do a quick repair job on my Jeans. It sports a large cut on the thigh, where the hand scythe cut through it the other day, and though fashion-wise it is still wearable, I really prefer my clothes to be intact.

At the end of the show, the TV is shut down, announcing that it’s time to do some serious editing. Rather than start immediately, I head for the shower and wash the grime off. That done, and with a quick snack in hand, I settle beside big brother to tackle the story once more.

Though we’re both weary from the work in the yard, we do manage another solid five pages. Almost sixty pages done and only a hundred and forty to go, yay.
I am grateful when the evening is over, though. My limbs are sore from the heavy lifting and dragging, and even my ribs ache when I head up the mountain to finally start on the evening rituals.

A busy day, but a job well done, in the end. Heck, this is the first time since…well, the first time ever we actually had a bonfire on the first day of spring. Hah.

Let’s hope that it’s a positive start of something good.