Today’s events were basically the same as the other days when working on the wall and edits. I did, however need to take Yama (one of the crossbreeds) to the vet, and she has to stay there ‘till tomorrow. She needs to have her mammal glands removed…tumors…and gets the added “bonus” of a hysterectomy. Poor girl.
Got lots of the wall done, yay. The first one is officially done as of today, and the second one well underway. Got some editing done, which is good, of course, but it could have been better.
Laundry got done, Grandpa made pancakes for dinner, and I’m still sore from all the lifting and carrying.
But, I’m really not in the mood to write a proper Blog today, so instead I’ll post something else entirely…but what?
Well, considering I was going through the poetry files the other day, I figure I might as well put on up here. Hah.
Vengeful Warrior
Armed and weary to the bone she stood upon the shore
The hounds of hell swirling around, their eyes red and lusty galore
Grief and vengeance in mind her strongest drive
Naught would stop her, no man with sword or knife
Winds swept in from the raging sea
The land of those before her, keeping her captured, not allowing her to be free
Death had claimed all she held dear
Alone she stood now, in solitude but not with fear
Alone, but fight she would
Her only aid hell’s blood-lusty brood
Thunder and lighting brought on by her masterful spell
So much power within and no one to tell
Ragged and torn clothes plastered against her chilled skin
Vengeance and wrath her only sin
Cast in light her mighty sword gleamed
Twirling through the air, it danced, sang and preened
A gleeful cry of battle lured her from behind
The fiery beasts around her perked but paid no mind.
Slowly the last of her kind turned to face the cause of her pain
The brute, the beast; by his hand her clan was slain
Rain, like ice slapping against cliffs of stone and rock
His presence expected, no longer a shock
Proudly the brutish enemy stood broad and tall
His intent clear, to break her, to make her fall
Submission and defeat his only wish
‘T was the one thing he would not accomplish
Determined and fierce
Her only intention, his evil heart to pierce
Growling, their eyes alight
The hounds spread out, prepared to fight
The sight they made, fearful indeed
Forcing the brute into mighty speed
Roaring a proud cry of battle
The brute rushed forward with lightning’s noisy crackle
Agile and fast, the warrior princess spun around
The hefty sword shimmering as its point lifted from the ground
Fluid like the violent sea at her back
She burst towards danger, her every fiber thrown into attack
In her mind were the faces of those she’d lost
She would avenge them, no matter what the cost
Sword against sword the combatants met
It wouldn’t be over until one lay dead
Grace and speed a fair match indeed
It met brute force, until she would succeed
Endlessly they parried within their deadly dance
Making her wonder if she stood a chance
An error of judgment made her clumsily tumble
Her footing slipping, making her stumble
Triumphantly the brute roared his victory
His glee so great that he was too late to see
The hounds of hell burst forth en mass
Protecting, defending their fiery lass
Claws and teeth sharp and strong, they flew at the brute’s mighty form
They let the warrior princess do as she’d sworn
Tears of loss and pain trailed down her sallow cheek
Her sword rising, thrusting up into lighting’s peak
Power of vengeance and love pulsed through blood and limb
Her beautiful face pale, her expression grim
Heaving with one mighty stroke
The brutish enemy’s body broke
The empty shell that remained
Soon the earth would have regained
Alone she stood again
Her turmoil calming, a knowing inside telling her that this is where it all began
Rebuild the clan she would
In the end, the land would be as it should
There you go. It’s been a while that I wrote this thing, but it’s still cute enough, I guess.
That’s it for me today. I’m going to turn in early.
Saturday, April 25, 2009
Friday, April 24, 2009
Road trip...sorta
Too little sleep again, but what else is new. Like I said before, something is just getting in the way of enough hours…this time I lay awake for at least an hour, for no reason I could think of. I refuse to complain, however, so let’s get to the day.
It’s a beautiful sunny morning when I wake up. The sun is slowly rising towards its zenith and the air is still fresh from the night when I open the front door and let the pack out into the open. The usual morning rituals ensue, including a somewhat sloppy stretch that does nothing to alleviate the knot in my shoulder…a result of yesterday’s lifting, I imagine.
First thing I do is checking my messages this morning. I’m expecting one nonetheless, and there it is. A reader has written with the update of her most recent read–case 3 of the W.I. Investigations/The White Doves. Though her tastes lean more towards actual horror stories and romances (I love the eclectic readers) she just spent most of the night reading, to finish the story, because she couldn’t put it down until she knew how it ended. And she wasn’t disappointed. Hah. Now that is excellent news to start a day on, I’ll admit.
No edit first thing this morning, Danni and friend are already up the mountain, visiting with grandpa and our tenant, and after a quick breakfast big brother and I head on over with slices of the pies that have firmed up marvelously after a night in the fridge.
We visit for a bit, give the grand tour of the progress made on the wall, and get up to date on each other’s lives. Several hours pass with pleasant conversation, at which time we have get in the car to drive our visiting friend home to Marbella. It is a long drive, but since we take the back roads, rather than the highway, it is a beautiful one. It crosses straight through a nature reserve and this early in spring the sights are magnificent.
Since we’re already in the bit city by the time we drop our friend off, big brother and I decide to stop at the large mall to see if there are any ventilators on sale. We’re going to need them in the summer if we want to save on expenses of the AC.
In the end, we only manage to find one for a decent price and depart to the east of Marbella. The sun is nearing the horizon when we reach the village closest to our home, and rather than continue on our way, we decide to drive up to our usual spot to get some more rocks. No sense in wasting time and the trip when we can get more rocks today, too.
For the next hour or so we gather a large amount of them, piling them high into the truck bed, until it is filled to the rim and the car has lowered through the springs at least half a foot. With that done, we return on our way home, where the sibs are already waiting to help unload our cargo.
We finish just when nightfall arrives, and head inside to eat the meal little sister has prepared. Though she warns that she might have gone a little overboard with the sambal and that it’s overly spices, it tastes just right after I actually manage to sit down…there was laundry to do, of course. Hah.
Big brother and I do an edit of about two hours, when midnight arrives and I take my dogs to the cabin for the night.
While I change into my pjs I realize that through the hours spent in the early morning sun has left my shoulders and neck slightly burned. It is strange how after so many years in Spain, I still manage to get sunburned. It’s nothing serious however, and by tomorrow, it should be fine.
Very little done today, but those days belong to life as much as the busy ones. Can’t be busy all the time, I guess.
It’s a beautiful sunny morning when I wake up. The sun is slowly rising towards its zenith and the air is still fresh from the night when I open the front door and let the pack out into the open. The usual morning rituals ensue, including a somewhat sloppy stretch that does nothing to alleviate the knot in my shoulder…a result of yesterday’s lifting, I imagine.
First thing I do is checking my messages this morning. I’m expecting one nonetheless, and there it is. A reader has written with the update of her most recent read–case 3 of the W.I. Investigations/The White Doves. Though her tastes lean more towards actual horror stories and romances (I love the eclectic readers) she just spent most of the night reading, to finish the story, because she couldn’t put it down until she knew how it ended. And she wasn’t disappointed. Hah. Now that is excellent news to start a day on, I’ll admit.
No edit first thing this morning, Danni and friend are already up the mountain, visiting with grandpa and our tenant, and after a quick breakfast big brother and I head on over with slices of the pies that have firmed up marvelously after a night in the fridge.
We visit for a bit, give the grand tour of the progress made on the wall, and get up to date on each other’s lives. Several hours pass with pleasant conversation, at which time we have get in the car to drive our visiting friend home to Marbella. It is a long drive, but since we take the back roads, rather than the highway, it is a beautiful one. It crosses straight through a nature reserve and this early in spring the sights are magnificent.
Since we’re already in the bit city by the time we drop our friend off, big brother and I decide to stop at the large mall to see if there are any ventilators on sale. We’re going to need them in the summer if we want to save on expenses of the AC.
In the end, we only manage to find one for a decent price and depart to the east of Marbella. The sun is nearing the horizon when we reach the village closest to our home, and rather than continue on our way, we decide to drive up to our usual spot to get some more rocks. No sense in wasting time and the trip when we can get more rocks today, too.
For the next hour or so we gather a large amount of them, piling them high into the truck bed, until it is filled to the rim and the car has lowered through the springs at least half a foot. With that done, we return on our way home, where the sibs are already waiting to help unload our cargo.
We finish just when nightfall arrives, and head inside to eat the meal little sister has prepared. Though she warns that she might have gone a little overboard with the sambal and that it’s overly spices, it tastes just right after I actually manage to sit down…there was laundry to do, of course. Hah.
Big brother and I do an edit of about two hours, when midnight arrives and I take my dogs to the cabin for the night.
While I change into my pjs I realize that through the hours spent in the early morning sun has left my shoulders and neck slightly burned. It is strange how after so many years in Spain, I still manage to get sunburned. It’s nothing serious however, and by tomorrow, it should be fine.
Very little done today, but those days belong to life as much as the busy ones. Can’t be busy all the time, I guess.
Thursday, April 23, 2009
Rocks and pie...oh yeah, writing too.
Well, it was a long day, and since I cheated on the Blog yesterday, I guess I should get back to the usual schedule in explaining what all happened today. Where to start, where to start? I know, the usual place. Duh!
So, I wake up this morning, feeling downright grubby from a night that was once again way too short (I don’t know what the heck’s wrong with me, but I keep being late at getting to bed) and downright grumpy as I go through the morning rituals, stretch all the kinks from my back and then head down to the house, muttering complaints at the dogs.
The dogs surge forward at a less sedate pace, naturally. The bloody idiots never do anything at a sedate pace, unless of course they need to get inside fast and they really don’t want to. Oh Gawd, you should see Chaos when he has to get into the courtyard because I need to go somewhere and he has to stay at home.
He will meticulously crisscross over the entire path…it’s like nine or twelve feet wide and fifty long…sniffing literally everything his nose comes upon. That Basset is a master and drawing things out. The funny thing, though, is that he literally does it in slow-mo, every muscle, every limb, heck even his eyes. It’s hilarious…if I weren’t in a hurry.
But anyways–by the time I get to the house and, rather delightedly–notice that there’s no laundry to hang of fold today, I head inside to have a quick breakfast so I can start on the edit once more. For the moment we’re not doing the rewrite type of edit, but more a technical scan for typos and such, which inevitably occurred while we rewrote most of the scenes.
We scour many pages during the hours that pass and I write about one page for yet another scene that will later be integrated into the story. It’s an interesting scene, really. It basically describes how the female protagonist’s (MPD patient, if you will recall from previous posts) personalities begin to realize that it is time for them to stop existing.
It will be a somewhat sad scene, since I’ve gotten rather attached to the multiple characters that live inside the heroine, but it needs to be done. The story requires a happy ending, of course, and for that Nina (that’s her name, by the way) needs to become whole again. I think I’m going to cry a little by the time I finish this scene because at least two of the characters do not wish to cease their existence.
Ah, the turmoil of an author. Killing off characters (which is basically what this is) is like tearing a piece out of your heart without an anesthetic.
On the UP side, I’ve received my first two independent test readers’ responses to the prologue and the general consensus was: “Oh My God! You…you horrid, horrid person (I’m keeping it polite, mind you. Hah) You should have warned me that was so damn awful, I cried! What the hell happens next?” which is of course thrilling feedback for me, since that is the whole intention of the prologue.
One of the test readers actually complained that she had this awful pain in her chest from emotion, while reading the first three pages and that she kept wondering when things were going to turn for the better…Ah, the worry, so very rewarding. But the first scene is supposed to be so all-consuming that the reader is left emotionally drained and chomping at the bit to read what happens next. Mission accomplished! Yay.
So, with that bit of good news I’m suitably bolstered to tackle today’s building and head on out into the hot spring day (it was actually hot today, which is the first this year, hooray!) to return to yesterday’s digging spot. I’ve yet to deepen the gutter for the foundation and decide to get to it while one by one the sibs exit the house to join me.
Since this second section of the wall needs to be built from the ground up once more, it is a task that puts a heavy burden on all our backs. Sixty to eighty pound rocks get hauled over and dropped in their places while middle sister starts mixing the cement for our task. I gotta admit that I am more than happy that I have been working out so much this past year, ‘cause if I hadn’t I would be a wreck tonight.
Fifteen heavy rocks later, little brother and I do most of them, but little sister certainly does her fair share, we’re ready for the cement…or so we thought. Big brother doesn’t agree, however, and rolls half of them away to deepen the gutter a bit more until he is satisfied that it is deep enough. It’s not like the massive wall would have shifted even an inch with the one I dug, but what the heck, if he wants to do some more digging, that’s his prerogative. I’m certainly not going to stop him.
Of course I am the one who has to put the rocks back in place, but by then the cement is coming in so there is little time and breath left to complain about it. Hah. For several hours we pour, lay and fit the newly laid wall until, about and hour and a half before sundown the sand and cement supply has depleted.
With the wall up to our knees, we are quite happy to finish up today’s building, and though the heavy work isn’t over for big brother and I, we exclaim a sigh of relief. After we have led the dogs into the courtyard, and middle sister has hosed down the tools and containers, it is time to head out to get a new supply of rocks.
In the company of grandpa and mom we climb into the car and drive off to our regular spot in the woods where digging debris have left a large supply of rocks just waiting for us to pick them up and use for the wall. Hah. It takes us about fifteen minutes to load the truck bed up to full capacity…we find this particularly gorgeous rock that is literally shaped like a stool and so heavy big brother and I need to lift it up together, and then get back into the car to return home.
Luckily, the younger sibs are already waiting for us by the time we return and working together it takes only little time to unload the heavy burden out to throw them onto the rapidly dwindling pile. We’ve found a good batch today: Lot’s of straight edges and angles that will allow for easy building during the next session.
That done, we return to the house where the dogs are eagerly awaiting our return. We throw a couple of frozen pizzas into the oven for dinner while little sister and I start making a couple of pies for our friend Dannie’s birthday tomorrow. What with two guests coming, (the birthday girl and a mutual friend) we promised to make a cherry chocolate cake and a cheesecake for the occasion.
While little sister sets to the task of preparing the cheesecake (made with yogurt, because we forgot to buy the proper ingredients, grrr) I make the cherry chocolate log. Rather than bother with the actual baking I use a cheap basic cake as a basis. Cream gets whipped, chocolate melted, cherries drained of their juice and chocolate butter mixed. On the overall, both treats take less than an hour to prepare, which is good since by the time we finish I’m seriously lacking in my energy levels. Hah.
With the pizzas as dinner, I only eat a couple of small slices because I’m really too tired for a proper meal, we watch a bit of TV…”Dude, where’s my car” was on. Talk about stupid movies, hah…before it is time to retire for the night.
So, I wake up this morning, feeling downright grubby from a night that was once again way too short (I don’t know what the heck’s wrong with me, but I keep being late at getting to bed) and downright grumpy as I go through the morning rituals, stretch all the kinks from my back and then head down to the house, muttering complaints at the dogs.
The dogs surge forward at a less sedate pace, naturally. The bloody idiots never do anything at a sedate pace, unless of course they need to get inside fast and they really don’t want to. Oh Gawd, you should see Chaos when he has to get into the courtyard because I need to go somewhere and he has to stay at home.
He will meticulously crisscross over the entire path…it’s like nine or twelve feet wide and fifty long…sniffing literally everything his nose comes upon. That Basset is a master and drawing things out. The funny thing, though, is that he literally does it in slow-mo, every muscle, every limb, heck even his eyes. It’s hilarious…if I weren’t in a hurry.
But anyways–by the time I get to the house and, rather delightedly–notice that there’s no laundry to hang of fold today, I head inside to have a quick breakfast so I can start on the edit once more. For the moment we’re not doing the rewrite type of edit, but more a technical scan for typos and such, which inevitably occurred while we rewrote most of the scenes.
We scour many pages during the hours that pass and I write about one page for yet another scene that will later be integrated into the story. It’s an interesting scene, really. It basically describes how the female protagonist’s (MPD patient, if you will recall from previous posts) personalities begin to realize that it is time for them to stop existing.
It will be a somewhat sad scene, since I’ve gotten rather attached to the multiple characters that live inside the heroine, but it needs to be done. The story requires a happy ending, of course, and for that Nina (that’s her name, by the way) needs to become whole again. I think I’m going to cry a little by the time I finish this scene because at least two of the characters do not wish to cease their existence.
Ah, the turmoil of an author. Killing off characters (which is basically what this is) is like tearing a piece out of your heart without an anesthetic.
On the UP side, I’ve received my first two independent test readers’ responses to the prologue and the general consensus was: “Oh My God! You…you horrid, horrid person (I’m keeping it polite, mind you. Hah) You should have warned me that was so damn awful, I cried! What the hell happens next?” which is of course thrilling feedback for me, since that is the whole intention of the prologue.
One of the test readers actually complained that she had this awful pain in her chest from emotion, while reading the first three pages and that she kept wondering when things were going to turn for the better…Ah, the worry, so very rewarding. But the first scene is supposed to be so all-consuming that the reader is left emotionally drained and chomping at the bit to read what happens next. Mission accomplished! Yay.
So, with that bit of good news I’m suitably bolstered to tackle today’s building and head on out into the hot spring day (it was actually hot today, which is the first this year, hooray!) to return to yesterday’s digging spot. I’ve yet to deepen the gutter for the foundation and decide to get to it while one by one the sibs exit the house to join me.
Since this second section of the wall needs to be built from the ground up once more, it is a task that puts a heavy burden on all our backs. Sixty to eighty pound rocks get hauled over and dropped in their places while middle sister starts mixing the cement for our task. I gotta admit that I am more than happy that I have been working out so much this past year, ‘cause if I hadn’t I would be a wreck tonight.
Fifteen heavy rocks later, little brother and I do most of them, but little sister certainly does her fair share, we’re ready for the cement…or so we thought. Big brother doesn’t agree, however, and rolls half of them away to deepen the gutter a bit more until he is satisfied that it is deep enough. It’s not like the massive wall would have shifted even an inch with the one I dug, but what the heck, if he wants to do some more digging, that’s his prerogative. I’m certainly not going to stop him.
Of course I am the one who has to put the rocks back in place, but by then the cement is coming in so there is little time and breath left to complain about it. Hah. For several hours we pour, lay and fit the newly laid wall until, about and hour and a half before sundown the sand and cement supply has depleted.
With the wall up to our knees, we are quite happy to finish up today’s building, and though the heavy work isn’t over for big brother and I, we exclaim a sigh of relief. After we have led the dogs into the courtyard, and middle sister has hosed down the tools and containers, it is time to head out to get a new supply of rocks.
In the company of grandpa and mom we climb into the car and drive off to our regular spot in the woods where digging debris have left a large supply of rocks just waiting for us to pick them up and use for the wall. Hah. It takes us about fifteen minutes to load the truck bed up to full capacity…we find this particularly gorgeous rock that is literally shaped like a stool and so heavy big brother and I need to lift it up together, and then get back into the car to return home.
Luckily, the younger sibs are already waiting for us by the time we return and working together it takes only little time to unload the heavy burden out to throw them onto the rapidly dwindling pile. We’ve found a good batch today: Lot’s of straight edges and angles that will allow for easy building during the next session.
That done, we return to the house where the dogs are eagerly awaiting our return. We throw a couple of frozen pizzas into the oven for dinner while little sister and I start making a couple of pies for our friend Dannie’s birthday tomorrow. What with two guests coming, (the birthday girl and a mutual friend) we promised to make a cherry chocolate cake and a cheesecake for the occasion.
While little sister sets to the task of preparing the cheesecake (made with yogurt, because we forgot to buy the proper ingredients, grrr) I make the cherry chocolate log. Rather than bother with the actual baking I use a cheap basic cake as a basis. Cream gets whipped, chocolate melted, cherries drained of their juice and chocolate butter mixed. On the overall, both treats take less than an hour to prepare, which is good since by the time we finish I’m seriously lacking in my energy levels. Hah.
With the pizzas as dinner, I only eat a couple of small slices because I’m really too tired for a proper meal, we watch a bit of TV…”Dude, where’s my car” was on. Talk about stupid movies, hah…before it is time to retire for the night.
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Trip down memory lane.
Let’s break the routine for today, since I am bushed again anyway and today was pretty much like any other day spent, waking up, have breakfast, edit for hours, worked on the wall…though we also did some serious digging into the rock wall today…basically winding down from that and of course picking ticks of the dogs at every possible turn.
I know, boring, so we’ll do a trip down memory lane.
As I considered last night, I figure I might as well write about traveling through India. Admittedly, it was twenty years ago, but still, it was a fun trip, worth talking about.
Of all the places I’ve been during my youth, I would have to say that the most adventurous place I visited was definitely India.
Okay, I positively hated the many hours on the plane that got us there, especially since we left for the airport by night and all of us had managed to catch maybe four hours of sleep, tops.
Follow that up with an endless amount of time in a plane and you've got disaster in the making for five kids traveling by airplane for the first time in their lives.
Our very first day in India was spent passing out at a friend's place and not knowing what to do with ourselves simply because our brains no longer functioned. I remember that I felt pretty darn awful, since it was hotter than I could ever have imagined.
So there we were, New Delhi in autumn. Smoky, hot, foreign and so full of people that I admit feeling somewhat daunted by the crowds going every which way as we were transported by several taxies to the outskirts of town.
Beggars everywhere, cute young families, old people, uniformed school kids and also children mutilated by their parents in order to get more money, and just the dirty little criminals wandering the streets in hopes of stumbling on rich foreigners.
We stayed in Delhi only for a day or two, since it was the country that pulled us, rather than the big cities, but still it made an impression.
We traveled around with four taxis, and public transportation...whew, that was a smelly and crowded business...at first and basically just wandered from one town to the next, meeting wonderful, and scary, people alike.
Oh, and for those who wonder; yes, the stories are true. If a cow is resting in the middle of the road, traffic will be stuck there until the cow deigns it time to move on. Hah.
I remember a particularly small village in which we (a group of sixteen, All family, relatives and close friends) got stranded one evening when the bus didn’t arrive due to some sort of accident…or so we later heard.
The town was so small that there weren't any hostels, hotels or even a bed and breakfast, so we were pretty much stuffed.
We sat there, with our backpacks by the side of the bumpy dirt road for hours on end, when suddenly out of nowhere the villagers came milling around us, offering the most wonderful tea I'd ever tasted. It was a mix of milk and herbs, a foreign taste that I haven’t managed to duplicate since.
They were so kind, including the mayor who showed up at the roadside himself to offer us his former home for the night, so that we at least would have a roof over our heads that night while we waited for the seven o'clock public bus to arrive.
The house–it had actual brick walls rather than clay blocks the others had–had been used as storage mostly. No windows, but a door that closed, many, many rolls of barbed wire, and broken furniture piled together everywhere.
It was fun, not to mention excitingly new…especially the next morning when we had to run to catch the bus that was already packed with the locals and at the verge of leaving without us.
It was tricky traveling through the country back then. Foreigners were a much desired prey so that meant guard duty whenever the bus stopped for a much desired break after narrow winding roads through the mountains that offered magnificent views…even through the floors, riddled with holes. Hah.
There was one particular time when oncoming traffic forced the bus to back up, sticking its butt out over a MAJOR drop beside the road, giving an excellent vantage point STRAIGHT DOWN!
After that particular disaster of public transportation, we decided to rent a private bus instead.
We had a wonderful chauffeur, a guide who was absolutely adored by my little brother (three years of age back then) for some reason, and the feeling was entirely mutual and a young man who was there for the sole purpose of keeping the bus clean. Apparently that was a standard deal for the bus, and I have to admit that he made traveling rather comfortable.
We went from the North, saw all the sights, Calcutta, Bombay (in passing) etc, to South-East…saw the ocean there, walked into it as a matter of fact, with a beach and surf that went on for miles. An extraordinary experience that. The land just never seemed to drop away, and at our feet with the water coming up only as far as our shins a small stingray swam.
There at the Sea, we stayed at a rather decrepit hotel…hotels were rather difficult to choose, since standards of what's fancy and CLEAN was really relative back then.
It smelled like fish everywhere, what with it being a fishermen's town and all, and most of us were nauseous for the duration of our stay there. We were all vegetarians, so fish was really not something we enjoyed.
Which reminds me of another hotel in another city (near Calcutta, I believe) where we'd ordered pakora (coated vegetables) and fries…or chips as they called them. It took the hotel more than four hours to bring us our meal, since for some reason they'd figured we wanted FISH and chips…and yes, they actually had to catch the fish, gut it and prepare it before they were able to serve it. Talk about fresh! It was a nice thought.
We took a different, more scenic route back north; following the eastern costal areas and headed straight for the Himalayas.
We considered visiting Tibet for a while, but decided against it due to the political climate there and the hassle it would be to cross the border. Getting a visa would have been disastrous.
On the way, we met with a particularly nasty group of armed forces that boarded our bus armed to the teeth and demanding cigarettes–which we didn't have.
Thank God for our guide Fino, who talked us out of what could have turned out to be a really nasty situation. It was rather scary, I’ll admit.
A small chartered flight brought us to "the top of the world"…or at least the lower parts of it, hah…and its ancient town Shimlah.
There we stayed there in a beautiful British Colonial Hotel (The Marina hotel) that was more than a hundred years old and showed it. I could just imagine the Brits staying there many years ago when it was still a British colony.
It was huge, dark, it creaked everywhere and balanced rather precariously on the mountaintop, looming over an abyss that was so deep that it made me dizzy looking down over the banisters of the wrap-around veranda.
I even slept in a room, right beside one that was closed because it had suffered fire damage at some time in the past. It was creepy dark. If any place was more likely to be haunted, that was it! Very cool.
Another part of our travels in India sticks in my mind. This was higher up in the Himalayas, and after staying at a hostel for trekkers…a marvelous experience, even though it was rather crowded sharing dormitories with pros and sleeping in bunk beds without any privacy whatsoever. It was a gorgeous night, and we spent most of it outside, overlooking the amazing vistas of snow-topped mountains stretching on forever as the stars slowly appeared.
After hearing some marvelous stories of the surrounding area, we decided we wanted to hike a bit. Just us, no guides, enjoying the peace and quiet without any interference. So, soon thereafter, we chucked into our backpacks and started on our way in rented cars that drove us higher up.
It took us all day to reach the top of the relatively low mountain we had picked. (One that wasn't covered in snow on a rather wondrously sunny day.)
The way up was steep, but beautiful, absolutely gorgeous! Everything was untouched, it seemed, and we were thrilled by the time we reached the top where a small cow shed had been built years before, right beside a clear black pond.
Seeing as the day was rapidly waning, we decided to spend the night there, seeking shelter inside the shed, lest we were forced to sleep in the open with the wild animals that actually roamed the area.
It was a tight fit, I'll admit. Sixteen people squeezed into this tiny space like sardines in a can, with the unfortunate ones at the walls, squashed up against dried cow dung and other organic matter that I don't even want to contemplate now.
It was great! We all had uncontrollable giggles that night, (especially us kids) simply because it was so very uncomfortable and exciting at the same time.
The sunny morning was met with smiles and a quick dip into the clear mountain water, before we started back on our way down, where, two thirds of the way, we were met by our frantic guide who had been worried sick because there had been warnings of dangerous wildlife (a mountain lion, I believe) and a dramatic storm coming from the east to boot.
He'd actually contemplated taking some of the villagers up the mountain with tents for us in the dead of night. A darling man.
After that rather adventurous trip, we stayed at a former palace turned into a hotel for a couple of weeks, recovering from the many miles we had traveled, and just relaxing. It was one of the fanciest hotels we ever stayed at, built back in the day when the English still ruled there and the maharajah wanted to be fancy…but only for a night because a couple cottages on the estate suited our needs more.
It was great staying there. Monkeys…Baboons I think…all over the place and trying to steel our food whenever they could, hah. They were a bit scary. Very forward creatures, and they could be quite aggressive.
We got our own foodstuff from the local village, for which we had to travel up and down narrow trails every other day or so, getting fresh peas (they were delicious, especially while you're spending hours just peeling them in the warm sun) potatoes and everything else we needed, to lug it back up the mountain.
We also got our hands on a small oven there. You know one of those pan-shaped things you can hook up to the electric.
Soggy white English bread was our greatest difficulty food-wise over there, and we all were ready for some decent bread that didn't actually taste like watery cake. That bread made me nauseous, actually.
You can imagine our chagrin when we put the freshly baked bread in the windowsill to chill, only to have one particularly cheeky baboon steel it and take off screeching like a loon. Us kids hunted that beast for at least an hour before we finally had to admit defeat and gave up.
But anyway, after those few weeks in the cottages we decided that it was time to head back toward Delhi: A long, LONG journey westward. Of which two days were spent in a single traffic jam. There had been some horrible accident, and I regret to say that I actually saw a corpse with its head squashed like a melon on the street. Not a pleasant sight at all.
Once we arrived in Delhi, we did some souvenir shopping in the many colorful bazaars, and we visited a Wendy (sort of like McDonalds) which was an absolute delight after eating Indian food that literally scorched the tongue for months.
By then, we were faced with the rather disastrous news that our tickets had been resold by our sneaky traveling agent. It was quite a concern, seeing as our Visas were about to expire, so our guide stepped up to the plate and traveled all the way back to the Himalayas where he faced off with the nefarious travel agent that had booked our tickets, and made it back in time to see us off to our plane in the middle of the night.
I assure you that the dear man was left with a more than generous tip, our contact information, the small oven and several items of our high tech camping gear (which he'd been admiring for weeks). I don't know what we would have done without the guy.
Which concludes today’s Blog, and announces that it is time for me to make ready for bed. I might have to think of more memories for this daily posting thing, because just repeating daily events is starting to get a bit of a bore.
I know, boring, so we’ll do a trip down memory lane.
As I considered last night, I figure I might as well write about traveling through India. Admittedly, it was twenty years ago, but still, it was a fun trip, worth talking about.
Of all the places I’ve been during my youth, I would have to say that the most adventurous place I visited was definitely India.
Okay, I positively hated the many hours on the plane that got us there, especially since we left for the airport by night and all of us had managed to catch maybe four hours of sleep, tops.
Follow that up with an endless amount of time in a plane and you've got disaster in the making for five kids traveling by airplane for the first time in their lives.
Our very first day in India was spent passing out at a friend's place and not knowing what to do with ourselves simply because our brains no longer functioned. I remember that I felt pretty darn awful, since it was hotter than I could ever have imagined.
So there we were, New Delhi in autumn. Smoky, hot, foreign and so full of people that I admit feeling somewhat daunted by the crowds going every which way as we were transported by several taxies to the outskirts of town.
Beggars everywhere, cute young families, old people, uniformed school kids and also children mutilated by their parents in order to get more money, and just the dirty little criminals wandering the streets in hopes of stumbling on rich foreigners.
We stayed in Delhi only for a day or two, since it was the country that pulled us, rather than the big cities, but still it made an impression.
We traveled around with four taxis, and public transportation...whew, that was a smelly and crowded business...at first and basically just wandered from one town to the next, meeting wonderful, and scary, people alike.
Oh, and for those who wonder; yes, the stories are true. If a cow is resting in the middle of the road, traffic will be stuck there until the cow deigns it time to move on. Hah.
I remember a particularly small village in which we (a group of sixteen, All family, relatives and close friends) got stranded one evening when the bus didn’t arrive due to some sort of accident…or so we later heard.
The town was so small that there weren't any hostels, hotels or even a bed and breakfast, so we were pretty much stuffed.
We sat there, with our backpacks by the side of the bumpy dirt road for hours on end, when suddenly out of nowhere the villagers came milling around us, offering the most wonderful tea I'd ever tasted. It was a mix of milk and herbs, a foreign taste that I haven’t managed to duplicate since.
They were so kind, including the mayor who showed up at the roadside himself to offer us his former home for the night, so that we at least would have a roof over our heads that night while we waited for the seven o'clock public bus to arrive.
The house–it had actual brick walls rather than clay blocks the others had–had been used as storage mostly. No windows, but a door that closed, many, many rolls of barbed wire, and broken furniture piled together everywhere.
It was fun, not to mention excitingly new…especially the next morning when we had to run to catch the bus that was already packed with the locals and at the verge of leaving without us.
It was tricky traveling through the country back then. Foreigners were a much desired prey so that meant guard duty whenever the bus stopped for a much desired break after narrow winding roads through the mountains that offered magnificent views…even through the floors, riddled with holes. Hah.
There was one particular time when oncoming traffic forced the bus to back up, sticking its butt out over a MAJOR drop beside the road, giving an excellent vantage point STRAIGHT DOWN!
After that particular disaster of public transportation, we decided to rent a private bus instead.
We had a wonderful chauffeur, a guide who was absolutely adored by my little brother (three years of age back then) for some reason, and the feeling was entirely mutual and a young man who was there for the sole purpose of keeping the bus clean. Apparently that was a standard deal for the bus, and I have to admit that he made traveling rather comfortable.
We went from the North, saw all the sights, Calcutta, Bombay (in passing) etc, to South-East…saw the ocean there, walked into it as a matter of fact, with a beach and surf that went on for miles. An extraordinary experience that. The land just never seemed to drop away, and at our feet with the water coming up only as far as our shins a small stingray swam.
There at the Sea, we stayed at a rather decrepit hotel…hotels were rather difficult to choose, since standards of what's fancy and CLEAN was really relative back then.
It smelled like fish everywhere, what with it being a fishermen's town and all, and most of us were nauseous for the duration of our stay there. We were all vegetarians, so fish was really not something we enjoyed.
Which reminds me of another hotel in another city (near Calcutta, I believe) where we'd ordered pakora (coated vegetables) and fries…or chips as they called them. It took the hotel more than four hours to bring us our meal, since for some reason they'd figured we wanted FISH and chips…and yes, they actually had to catch the fish, gut it and prepare it before they were able to serve it. Talk about fresh! It was a nice thought.
We took a different, more scenic route back north; following the eastern costal areas and headed straight for the Himalayas.
We considered visiting Tibet for a while, but decided against it due to the political climate there and the hassle it would be to cross the border. Getting a visa would have been disastrous.
On the way, we met with a particularly nasty group of armed forces that boarded our bus armed to the teeth and demanding cigarettes–which we didn't have.
Thank God for our guide Fino, who talked us out of what could have turned out to be a really nasty situation. It was rather scary, I’ll admit.
A small chartered flight brought us to "the top of the world"…or at least the lower parts of it, hah…and its ancient town Shimlah.
There we stayed there in a beautiful British Colonial Hotel (The Marina hotel) that was more than a hundred years old and showed it. I could just imagine the Brits staying there many years ago when it was still a British colony.
It was huge, dark, it creaked everywhere and balanced rather precariously on the mountaintop, looming over an abyss that was so deep that it made me dizzy looking down over the banisters of the wrap-around veranda.
I even slept in a room, right beside one that was closed because it had suffered fire damage at some time in the past. It was creepy dark. If any place was more likely to be haunted, that was it! Very cool.
Another part of our travels in India sticks in my mind. This was higher up in the Himalayas, and after staying at a hostel for trekkers…a marvelous experience, even though it was rather crowded sharing dormitories with pros and sleeping in bunk beds without any privacy whatsoever. It was a gorgeous night, and we spent most of it outside, overlooking the amazing vistas of snow-topped mountains stretching on forever as the stars slowly appeared.
After hearing some marvelous stories of the surrounding area, we decided we wanted to hike a bit. Just us, no guides, enjoying the peace and quiet without any interference. So, soon thereafter, we chucked into our backpacks and started on our way in rented cars that drove us higher up.
It took us all day to reach the top of the relatively low mountain we had picked. (One that wasn't covered in snow on a rather wondrously sunny day.)
The way up was steep, but beautiful, absolutely gorgeous! Everything was untouched, it seemed, and we were thrilled by the time we reached the top where a small cow shed had been built years before, right beside a clear black pond.
Seeing as the day was rapidly waning, we decided to spend the night there, seeking shelter inside the shed, lest we were forced to sleep in the open with the wild animals that actually roamed the area.
It was a tight fit, I'll admit. Sixteen people squeezed into this tiny space like sardines in a can, with the unfortunate ones at the walls, squashed up against dried cow dung and other organic matter that I don't even want to contemplate now.
It was great! We all had uncontrollable giggles that night, (especially us kids) simply because it was so very uncomfortable and exciting at the same time.
The sunny morning was met with smiles and a quick dip into the clear mountain water, before we started back on our way down, where, two thirds of the way, we were met by our frantic guide who had been worried sick because there had been warnings of dangerous wildlife (a mountain lion, I believe) and a dramatic storm coming from the east to boot.
He'd actually contemplated taking some of the villagers up the mountain with tents for us in the dead of night. A darling man.
After that rather adventurous trip, we stayed at a former palace turned into a hotel for a couple of weeks, recovering from the many miles we had traveled, and just relaxing. It was one of the fanciest hotels we ever stayed at, built back in the day when the English still ruled there and the maharajah wanted to be fancy…but only for a night because a couple cottages on the estate suited our needs more.
It was great staying there. Monkeys…Baboons I think…all over the place and trying to steel our food whenever they could, hah. They were a bit scary. Very forward creatures, and they could be quite aggressive.
We got our own foodstuff from the local village, for which we had to travel up and down narrow trails every other day or so, getting fresh peas (they were delicious, especially while you're spending hours just peeling them in the warm sun) potatoes and everything else we needed, to lug it back up the mountain.
We also got our hands on a small oven there. You know one of those pan-shaped things you can hook up to the electric.
Soggy white English bread was our greatest difficulty food-wise over there, and we all were ready for some decent bread that didn't actually taste like watery cake. That bread made me nauseous, actually.
You can imagine our chagrin when we put the freshly baked bread in the windowsill to chill, only to have one particularly cheeky baboon steel it and take off screeching like a loon. Us kids hunted that beast for at least an hour before we finally had to admit defeat and gave up.
But anyway, after those few weeks in the cottages we decided that it was time to head back toward Delhi: A long, LONG journey westward. Of which two days were spent in a single traffic jam. There had been some horrible accident, and I regret to say that I actually saw a corpse with its head squashed like a melon on the street. Not a pleasant sight at all.
Once we arrived in Delhi, we did some souvenir shopping in the many colorful bazaars, and we visited a Wendy (sort of like McDonalds) which was an absolute delight after eating Indian food that literally scorched the tongue for months.
By then, we were faced with the rather disastrous news that our tickets had been resold by our sneaky traveling agent. It was quite a concern, seeing as our Visas were about to expire, so our guide stepped up to the plate and traveled all the way back to the Himalayas where he faced off with the nefarious travel agent that had booked our tickets, and made it back in time to see us off to our plane in the middle of the night.
I assure you that the dear man was left with a more than generous tip, our contact information, the small oven and several items of our high tech camping gear (which he'd been admiring for weeks). I don't know what we would have done without the guy.
Which concludes today’s Blog, and announces that it is time for me to make ready for bed. I might have to think of more memories for this daily posting thing, because just repeating daily events is starting to get a bit of a bore.
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
Scavenging and scouring.
Though I didn’t get to bed in time last night, I’m early getting up this morning, because when the summer comes we intend to have a routine of one two hours earlier than usual. It will be necessary what with the electricity being so expensive, and the air-conditioner needing way too much of it.
I am a tad tired after such a short night, but I’m also determined to get in a workout today, so I hurry on down to the house to get to it.
After almost a month without the familiar routines, it takes some getting used to but in the end, I get into swing and go through today’s workout without too much effort.
It’s actually quite invigorating, and the punches, kicks, steps and jumps get me properly sweaty in the hour that passes.
Once done, I have a quick shower, eat breakfast and then get to work on the day’s edit. We get quite a bit done today. A total of seventeen pages get treated during the hours that pass until it is time to head out. Admittedly we take an hour longer on the edit, but since we’re not intending to build today anyway, it doesn’t really matter.
It is the plan that we’ll head out to the same location as yesterday, instead, taking mom with us, and perhaps even have a little picnic while we’re looking for rocks and more plants that we can use for the garden.
We spend more than two hours roaming through the woods, climbing up the mountains and down into gullies and valleys that appeared to have been rivers at some point. Scampering across the rocky trails, we find little treasures everywhere we go and crisscross our way back and forth to the car.
We’ve got at least twenty plants and several handfuls of rocks by the time we decide that it’s time to end our little outing. There’s wild thyme, rosemary, and a tiny Carob. Some stone oaks, virgin palms…which is what grandpa calls them anyway…they don’t look like palms at all, but that’s what he calls them. They look more like vines with lovely delicate little blue flowers. They are definitely the prizes of today’s outing.
We also manage to unearth this tiny little palm, a sprout that will actually look like one once it grows, and two finger sized spruces along with a slightly bigger one. I managed to pry it from between a crack in a huge rock, and if it makes the transition, it’ll be beautiful, I’m sure.
We get quite a bit of exercise today, basically running up and down rocky slopes, fully invigorated by the fresh and sunny spring air that is filled with the scents of wild herbs, pines and rich clay dirt that is still wet from the recent rain.
With most of our collection in the car, little sister and I decide to walk ahead already. She’s enjoying the trip in the “wild” and while we cross at a mile or so, just strolling over the path, enjoying the quiet and heavily scented air, I tell her of when we traveled through India, which was before her time.
Gawd, sometimes it is hard to believe that more than twenty years have passed since we went there. The memories are often so very clear. I’m going to have to post the story over here some day. I did write it down and it would be a shame not to share it. Maybe sometime this week. We’ll see.
By the time we get home and lay out our eclectic collection in the back of the truck, all the small bushes look a little like bonsai trees to me, which is cute to say the least.
It’s already dark by the time we finish potting our finds and store them in an old bathtub so the dogs won’t barge over them.
While we were gone, little brother decided to make my vegetable bread for dinner, and when I enter the house, the scent of it makes my mouth water. The dogs are insane, of course. They always are even if we’ve been gone for only five minutes, and an orchestra of howls greets me when I arrive in the kitchen, more than ready for a meal. Before I can sit down and enjoy dinner, however, I need to tackle the laundry. The dry needs to be taken down and the new needs to be hung.
Rather than do dinner first, I stuff a slice of the bread in my mouth, adding some cheese for the sheer pleasure of it, and then head out into the courtyard to get the chore over and done with. While I’m folding the dry clothes and sheets, I’ve got two sandwiches of the bread covered with cheese and they are baking on the stove. Once I’m done I dig in and then set up my computer.
On TV an episode of “CSI” plays, but I hardly pay it any attention while I do some more proofreading. The evening comes to a ridiculously fast end, sending me up to my cabin yawning like mad and more than eager to get some sleep.
I’m officially bushed. Hah.
I am a tad tired after such a short night, but I’m also determined to get in a workout today, so I hurry on down to the house to get to it.
After almost a month without the familiar routines, it takes some getting used to but in the end, I get into swing and go through today’s workout without too much effort.
It’s actually quite invigorating, and the punches, kicks, steps and jumps get me properly sweaty in the hour that passes.
Once done, I have a quick shower, eat breakfast and then get to work on the day’s edit. We get quite a bit done today. A total of seventeen pages get treated during the hours that pass until it is time to head out. Admittedly we take an hour longer on the edit, but since we’re not intending to build today anyway, it doesn’t really matter.
It is the plan that we’ll head out to the same location as yesterday, instead, taking mom with us, and perhaps even have a little picnic while we’re looking for rocks and more plants that we can use for the garden.
We spend more than two hours roaming through the woods, climbing up the mountains and down into gullies and valleys that appeared to have been rivers at some point. Scampering across the rocky trails, we find little treasures everywhere we go and crisscross our way back and forth to the car.
We’ve got at least twenty plants and several handfuls of rocks by the time we decide that it’s time to end our little outing. There’s wild thyme, rosemary, and a tiny Carob. Some stone oaks, virgin palms…which is what grandpa calls them anyway…they don’t look like palms at all, but that’s what he calls them. They look more like vines with lovely delicate little blue flowers. They are definitely the prizes of today’s outing.
We also manage to unearth this tiny little palm, a sprout that will actually look like one once it grows, and two finger sized spruces along with a slightly bigger one. I managed to pry it from between a crack in a huge rock, and if it makes the transition, it’ll be beautiful, I’m sure.
We get quite a bit of exercise today, basically running up and down rocky slopes, fully invigorated by the fresh and sunny spring air that is filled with the scents of wild herbs, pines and rich clay dirt that is still wet from the recent rain.
With most of our collection in the car, little sister and I decide to walk ahead already. She’s enjoying the trip in the “wild” and while we cross at a mile or so, just strolling over the path, enjoying the quiet and heavily scented air, I tell her of when we traveled through India, which was before her time.
Gawd, sometimes it is hard to believe that more than twenty years have passed since we went there. The memories are often so very clear. I’m going to have to post the story over here some day. I did write it down and it would be a shame not to share it. Maybe sometime this week. We’ll see.
By the time we get home and lay out our eclectic collection in the back of the truck, all the small bushes look a little like bonsai trees to me, which is cute to say the least.
It’s already dark by the time we finish potting our finds and store them in an old bathtub so the dogs won’t barge over them.
While we were gone, little brother decided to make my vegetable bread for dinner, and when I enter the house, the scent of it makes my mouth water. The dogs are insane, of course. They always are even if we’ve been gone for only five minutes, and an orchestra of howls greets me when I arrive in the kitchen, more than ready for a meal. Before I can sit down and enjoy dinner, however, I need to tackle the laundry. The dry needs to be taken down and the new needs to be hung.
Rather than do dinner first, I stuff a slice of the bread in my mouth, adding some cheese for the sheer pleasure of it, and then head out into the courtyard to get the chore over and done with. While I’m folding the dry clothes and sheets, I’ve got two sandwiches of the bread covered with cheese and they are baking on the stove. Once I’m done I dig in and then set up my computer.
On TV an episode of “CSI” plays, but I hardly pay it any attention while I do some more proofreading. The evening comes to a ridiculously fast end, sending me up to my cabin yawning like mad and more than eager to get some sleep.
I’m officially bushed. Hah.
Monday, April 20, 2009
A wonderful evening in the woods.
I am properly on time this morning, doing about fifteen minutes of stretches on my porch…the sun is shining wonderfully when I get up…before I start on the morning rituals and then head for the house. Trin Trin the Monster Boxer is her usual crazy self, while we walk down, tugging on the stick I carry and bracing her paws every which way in an attempt to tear it from my hands.
Once I’ve deposited my luggage, I hang and fold the new batch of laundry and then have a quick breakfast as the coffee percolates. Considering I’m early this morning I’ve already finished my morning meal when big brother and grandpa arrive, and start their usual morning discussion.
I listen to them with half an ear when I set up my laptop and get settled to read what I wrote yesterday. I do only a few alterations, shuffle some sentences around and then remind big brother that we still have today’s edit to do. At long last he joins me and in the following hours we manage about six pages of the manuscript.
It’s a good scene. A character builder, if you will. I think it will give another interesting angle to the hero of the story, making him more sympathetic and ehm…deep. It works well, for as far as I can see, creating a background for him, which was something one of my test readers complained about, and at the same time, humanizing him. Big brother is pleased, and that is always a good thing when editing is concerned.
We start working on the wall a little early today, since afterwards we want to head out into the woods for more rocks, and the sun is shining bright through the sporadic clouds that mark the vibrant blue sky overhead, there’s no reason to postpone it. There is a sweet scented breeze coming from the sea, making the temperatures perfect for heavy manual labor.
I get outside first, taking off my sweater when the warmth beings to seep into my limbs. Without hesitation I start hauling rocks, piling them up on the edge of the old wall, so that when the sibs arrive we can lift them down into the strip of garden that takes up a small section of the courtyard. Fifteen minutes into the chore I exchange my long sleeved T for a top, fully enjoying the sun on my skin.
Since most of the main wall has been brought up to height already–only a small section needs to be build up still–I decide to start working on the old section that needs to be build up another foot or so in order to give it the same height as the rest.
While big brother helps little sister with the section she insists on finishing herself, little brother helps me with the broad section on the old wall by supplying me with the cement middle sister is mixing for us all.
Today I might even get a bit of tan, considering I am standing in full sunshine for most of the building session, it is a viable option. It is actually kind of invigorating, the breeze, the warmth, all in all a wonderful combination, and by the time the sun is lowering towards the southwestern mountain we call it a day.
Big brother left a little earlier, since he has offered to prepare dinner, but he comes out again by the time we have chased the dogs into the courtyard and he and I prepare to head on out to get more rocks for the next few days.
With grandpa joining in, we make it to the other side of the mountain in record time…it is Sunday nonetheless, and traffic is minimal at most…and slowly make our way up the narrow trail that leads us to a section where construction has torn up the ground.
There are plenty of rocks to pick from, and for the next half hour or so we haul piles of them to the truck bed, until it is filled to the top. That done we get momentarily distracted by the multitude of young plants that have sprung forth from the ground during the rather wet winter we’ve had.
Considering that we intend to cultivate the small garden that borders the wall, we’re going to need a lot of plants, and for another half hour we scour the mountainside in search for suitable growths that are young enough for easy removal.
We find quite a few, and dally quite a bit as we admire the beautiful spring greens that have sprouted everywhere.
There is a scent of thyme in the air, combined with fennel, mosses, grass and spruces that grow tall on blackened rocks and thin layers of soil. Grandpa is fascinated by the fact that there are so many young oaks all over the place, especially since they seem to have sprung out of nowhere amidst the somewhat morose spruces.
At long last, when the sun is lowering behind the horizon we start on our way home. By the time we exit the path, and with it the wooded area, the sky is a mix of bright pink and gray, creating a rather impressive view as we drive into the village and make our way around the mountain.
Darkness has fallen by the time we arrive home and place the plant sprouts in water so they’ll make it through the night. Once inside the house we eat a quick dinner, prepared by big brother before we left, and watch a TV show before the night has drawn to an end.
Dogs get cleared of more ticks then, plans for tomorrow are made, and the time for me to head on up to my cabin arrives. With my dogs in tow I make my way up the steep slope and let the dogs rush ahead of me.
I do some quick cleaning, while my dogs eat and then change into my pjs before setting down for tonight’s Blog and messages. I’m pretty exhausted, so in that regard I’m rather happy that nighttime has fully arrived.
Once I’ve deposited my luggage, I hang and fold the new batch of laundry and then have a quick breakfast as the coffee percolates. Considering I’m early this morning I’ve already finished my morning meal when big brother and grandpa arrive, and start their usual morning discussion.
I listen to them with half an ear when I set up my laptop and get settled to read what I wrote yesterday. I do only a few alterations, shuffle some sentences around and then remind big brother that we still have today’s edit to do. At long last he joins me and in the following hours we manage about six pages of the manuscript.
It’s a good scene. A character builder, if you will. I think it will give another interesting angle to the hero of the story, making him more sympathetic and ehm…deep. It works well, for as far as I can see, creating a background for him, which was something one of my test readers complained about, and at the same time, humanizing him. Big brother is pleased, and that is always a good thing when editing is concerned.
We start working on the wall a little early today, since afterwards we want to head out into the woods for more rocks, and the sun is shining bright through the sporadic clouds that mark the vibrant blue sky overhead, there’s no reason to postpone it. There is a sweet scented breeze coming from the sea, making the temperatures perfect for heavy manual labor.
I get outside first, taking off my sweater when the warmth beings to seep into my limbs. Without hesitation I start hauling rocks, piling them up on the edge of the old wall, so that when the sibs arrive we can lift them down into the strip of garden that takes up a small section of the courtyard. Fifteen minutes into the chore I exchange my long sleeved T for a top, fully enjoying the sun on my skin.
Since most of the main wall has been brought up to height already–only a small section needs to be build up still–I decide to start working on the old section that needs to be build up another foot or so in order to give it the same height as the rest.
While big brother helps little sister with the section she insists on finishing herself, little brother helps me with the broad section on the old wall by supplying me with the cement middle sister is mixing for us all.
Today I might even get a bit of tan, considering I am standing in full sunshine for most of the building session, it is a viable option. It is actually kind of invigorating, the breeze, the warmth, all in all a wonderful combination, and by the time the sun is lowering towards the southwestern mountain we call it a day.
Big brother left a little earlier, since he has offered to prepare dinner, but he comes out again by the time we have chased the dogs into the courtyard and he and I prepare to head on out to get more rocks for the next few days.
With grandpa joining in, we make it to the other side of the mountain in record time…it is Sunday nonetheless, and traffic is minimal at most…and slowly make our way up the narrow trail that leads us to a section where construction has torn up the ground.
There are plenty of rocks to pick from, and for the next half hour or so we haul piles of them to the truck bed, until it is filled to the top. That done we get momentarily distracted by the multitude of young plants that have sprung forth from the ground during the rather wet winter we’ve had.
Considering that we intend to cultivate the small garden that borders the wall, we’re going to need a lot of plants, and for another half hour we scour the mountainside in search for suitable growths that are young enough for easy removal.
We find quite a few, and dally quite a bit as we admire the beautiful spring greens that have sprouted everywhere.
There is a scent of thyme in the air, combined with fennel, mosses, grass and spruces that grow tall on blackened rocks and thin layers of soil. Grandpa is fascinated by the fact that there are so many young oaks all over the place, especially since they seem to have sprung out of nowhere amidst the somewhat morose spruces.
At long last, when the sun is lowering behind the horizon we start on our way home. By the time we exit the path, and with it the wooded area, the sky is a mix of bright pink and gray, creating a rather impressive view as we drive into the village and make our way around the mountain.
Darkness has fallen by the time we arrive home and place the plant sprouts in water so they’ll make it through the night. Once inside the house we eat a quick dinner, prepared by big brother before we left, and watch a TV show before the night has drawn to an end.
Dogs get cleared of more ticks then, plans for tomorrow are made, and the time for me to head on up to my cabin arrives. With my dogs in tow I make my way up the steep slope and let the dogs rush ahead of me.
I do some quick cleaning, while my dogs eat and then change into my pjs before setting down for tonight’s Blog and messages. I’m pretty exhausted, so in that regard I’m rather happy that nighttime has fully arrived.
Sunday, April 19, 2009
Deja Vu!
Seems like we’re getting into a pretty steady routine over here. I could probably copy and paste yesterday’s Blog and basically describe today without any effort whatsoever. It would be so easy to do, but it would also feel like cheating, so I won’t.
I got almost eight hours of sleep, (interrupted, naturally, but still) which was a rather peculiar sensation. I kept waking up, wondering why the alarm didn’t go off, hah.
For the dogs there was little different, since they tend to snooze the night away while I’m at my computer doing the evening rituals online. They are their noisy selves when I head to the house to start on the day.
Some laundry gets hung, breakfast is eaten, and while big brother and grandpa go out to get more sand, I get to work on the computer. I’ve written around two pages before they return, and big brother and I review what I’ve typed out before we start on the usual edit.
By the time the sibs arrive we head on out to resume with the wall, knowing full well that we are going to get a large section up to the height we’re aiming for. There’s a slight hiccup when it turns out that the back latch of the truck isn’t working, so little sister and I start hauling rocks again to fill the time with something useful.
While big brother and grandpa work on the latch, little brother tackles a section of clay and rock behind the wall, filling up the empty spaces until we are able to walk behind the massive barrier we’re constructing.
At long last middle sister can start mixing the cement for us and quickly we get to work.
For the next few hours we puzzle with small and large rocks, adding another foot along the length of the structure, until, by the time nightfall arrives, we come to a reluctant halt.
While we take a moment to admire our handiwork, Jelly and Knight II get into a tussle right behind the newly erected section of the wall. I swear, in my mind’s eye I can see the entire structure tumble down while Knight II bursts through it. Luckily we can divert disaster with dire warnings and a few shouts that have both combatants scatter.
After a few snapshots of the entire project, we slowly start making our way into the house, cleaning up and putting away tools while the dogs pound on the food that waits for their arrival.
Our dinner’s waiting, too, mom prepared it and we dig in right after washing off dust and grime.
During the remainder of the evening we watch an episode of “The Closer” and then resume editing, rather than waste more time behind the TV, before I head on up to my cabin.
I spend half an hour cleaning my bathroom…it was starting to look scary in there, hah, and then take out scented wipes to tackle Dax’s neck.
The stupid pocket Beagle ventured out of the yard this morning and found something that smells rather horrid. It’s a musky smell, one that has to do with the herd of goats that frequent the area, and I haven’t been able to pet him all day. Tomorrow I’m going to have to wash him properly, ‘cause it is really pungent. When I first smelled him I gagged.
I always wonder what makes dogs roll around in something vile. No matter how often it happens, I fail to see the attraction. There must be something to it, but I’m thinking that in the end I’ll be grateful not knowing. Hah.
I got almost eight hours of sleep, (interrupted, naturally, but still) which was a rather peculiar sensation. I kept waking up, wondering why the alarm didn’t go off, hah.
For the dogs there was little different, since they tend to snooze the night away while I’m at my computer doing the evening rituals online. They are their noisy selves when I head to the house to start on the day.
Some laundry gets hung, breakfast is eaten, and while big brother and grandpa go out to get more sand, I get to work on the computer. I’ve written around two pages before they return, and big brother and I review what I’ve typed out before we start on the usual edit.
By the time the sibs arrive we head on out to resume with the wall, knowing full well that we are going to get a large section up to the height we’re aiming for. There’s a slight hiccup when it turns out that the back latch of the truck isn’t working, so little sister and I start hauling rocks again to fill the time with something useful.
While big brother and grandpa work on the latch, little brother tackles a section of clay and rock behind the wall, filling up the empty spaces until we are able to walk behind the massive barrier we’re constructing.
At long last middle sister can start mixing the cement for us and quickly we get to work.
For the next few hours we puzzle with small and large rocks, adding another foot along the length of the structure, until, by the time nightfall arrives, we come to a reluctant halt.
While we take a moment to admire our handiwork, Jelly and Knight II get into a tussle right behind the newly erected section of the wall. I swear, in my mind’s eye I can see the entire structure tumble down while Knight II bursts through it. Luckily we can divert disaster with dire warnings and a few shouts that have both combatants scatter.
After a few snapshots of the entire project, we slowly start making our way into the house, cleaning up and putting away tools while the dogs pound on the food that waits for their arrival.
Our dinner’s waiting, too, mom prepared it and we dig in right after washing off dust and grime.
During the remainder of the evening we watch an episode of “The Closer” and then resume editing, rather than waste more time behind the TV, before I head on up to my cabin.
I spend half an hour cleaning my bathroom…it was starting to look scary in there, hah, and then take out scented wipes to tackle Dax’s neck.
The stupid pocket Beagle ventured out of the yard this morning and found something that smells rather horrid. It’s a musky smell, one that has to do with the herd of goats that frequent the area, and I haven’t been able to pet him all day. Tomorrow I’m going to have to wash him properly, ‘cause it is really pungent. When I first smelled him I gagged.
I always wonder what makes dogs roll around in something vile. No matter how often it happens, I fail to see the attraction. There must be something to it, but I’m thinking that in the end I’ll be grateful not knowing. Hah.
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