Bugger.

I have very little to write about today. Last night’s wandering thoughts took long enough for me to get to bed well past my bedtime, so I didn’t get enough sleep today…again. It’s starting to be a habit, it seems. This entire blog thing is most certainly not beneficial to my sleeping pattern. But that’s okay. Who needs sleep anyway?

So how was my day? I’m not sure; I’m feeling a bit ambivalent about it, so whoever reads it will have to decide on their own.

I wake at my usual time. The sun shining in a clear blue sky, while the temperatures are just barely comfortable. My head feels blurry, a lack-of-sleep-hangover pounding distantly in my skull as I pop an extra vitamin C and rummage through the drawers in search of cold medicine now that my throat feels painfully sore.

My by yearly cold is rearing its ugly head this past week, and I’m working hard at nipping it in the butt before it gets out of hand, the way it did last year. I have no intention of my lungs filling up with liquid again, the sore throat, clogged nose and a fever that will incapacitate me for a full week while the bug lingers for at least a month. Bloody cold!

I also have a variety of cuts in my lips…I always get those during the dry cold days in winter…and occasional blood flows while my face readjusts to actual movements after a night of inactivity.

A glance in the mirror shows that I am quite a horrific sight. Tiny black-red crusts in the corners of my mouth and Albert Einstein hair, right before I plunge my face in the sink and follow that up by quickly combing my hair in a semblance of order, prior to another wary, and quick, glance in the mirror.

There were dreams, but as is often case when I wake abruptly after just a few hours of sleep, I can’t recall them within five minutes of waking.
Still, I don’t feel too bad as I get dressed and head down to the house with the dogs coming my pursuit.

Knight’s annoying harassment, definitely a habit he is rapidly acquiring in the mornings, doesn’t improve my mood at all. The majority of the hour that follows my relocation is spent trying to hang the day’s laundry…after just barely saving it from getting dirty again when the handle of the basket breaks off in my hand on the way into the courtyard. I think I pulled a muscle, making a rather odd twist-dodge-lean towards the wall to keep it from going all over the ground.

But anyway: I have a quick breakfast and stick my nose in a mug of coffee while the computer boots up and the usual routine ensues. Three hours and three cigarettes later big brother and I still haven’t made any serious headway with editing: Just three or four pages that literally crawl by when we get constantly distracted from the task at hand.

Around seven in the evening I decide to quit for a while, leaving big brother at his computer while he keeps an eye on mine so I can prepare dinner without the bother to putting my computer safely away.
Couscous, stir fried with olive oil and curries, rather than just cooking it, is on the menu today. Unless it is prepared in this particular way, with an onion, salt and a bit of sugar to give it some taste, I really don’t like couscous at all. It’s bland and…well, just bland, unless prepared just right when it’s still dry. Adding some veggies, red bell pepper, peas, sweet corn and green beans, I’m done and disperse the portions of the hungry mob.

I have several near misses with Knight II, who really would like a mouthful of human food, but manage to keep my portion intact–just barely.
After dinner and its ensuing cleanup, I force myself back to the computer for some more editing, which is my least favorite part of the entire writing process.

Luckily the second session goes much better, and by the time 1 AM has passed the manuscript is dubbed “done”…for the first round. Tomorrow the next round will be there, but for a while that doesn’t matter.
Ten minutes later it does. However well the session went; today my mood was not beneficial for the task at all. Pretty much everything read/sounded wrong, horrible and dreadful, and though I am well aware that as soon as the proverbial dust settles, it won’t be half as bad as I think it is at the moment, it annoys me to no end.

The usual trip to the cabin comes right after a quick slice of bread with peanut butter and honey–for some reason I was starving, still am, as a matter of fact, but food will have to wait ‘till tomorrow.
With this final recount, the day has come to an end and…I’m late once again.
Bugger!

A new story.

Another sunny day in Spain, much to my relief.

I awake to a brightly shining sun and a cold breeze drifting into my bedroom. For some reason my dream was about the Gilmore girls. This imaginative kind of dreams are a most annoying habit of my brain, since I tend to dream of what I will remember as actual episodes later on. It is cause for plenty of confusion, I'll admit.

Going through the morning rituals and taking my time for a change, I don't get to the house until an hour after my awakening. Laundry needs to be done again, of course, and just as I am about to hang the last quilt, Knight II decides that he wants my attention and drags the newly washed material over the ground, earning it another wash.

Chastising him for his lack of manners, I scowl as I follow him into the house, dodging his enthusiastic pawing until I finally manage to calm him down.
With this particular chore done, and Knight watching me with interest, I have a quick breakfast before I settle behind my computer for the daily session.

I spend a couple of hours answering a variety of messages, until big brother announces that he has to stop editing for a bit, lest he’ll loose his mind. At last he fully understands my past grouching about this particular issue, but I can’t say that I blame him. I feel quite the same most of the time. For a while we discuss what we can do to get our minds off the boring task, while still be constructive rather than just lazy.

An idea for a short Novella about Vampires has been playing on our minds for a while now, and what with editing being set aside for a bit, we decide to start on the general idea we once outlined and make an attempt at the beginning.

As usual, when bored, working on a new project is always helpful to get the juices flowing again, and today is no exception.
It works remarkably well, I’ll admit. With big brother sitting across from me, listing the details that we’ve jotted down in the past, and looking up details on the Net to make the story more credible, I manage a good solid beginning before the time comes for us to go and visit Clue at the hospital.

What with mom behind the wheel, big brother and I toss ideas for the new book back and forth, forming an interesting outline that continues to be added to until the visitors at the hospital that arrived before us have been dealt with and we are allowed to go to the back where Clue waits.

He’s lying peacefully in the cage when we first enter, slowly coming to his feet when he recognizes our scent and hears our voices. He’s more than eager to get out of his confinement when we draw near, hopefully looking up at us as we pet him affectionately and cajole him into some more excited movement while the assistant brings us up to date on the latest developments.

Due to the bacterial infection he’s suffering from the vet suspects that he has encephalitis, but they cannot confirm it until the lab results are delivered sometime during the next week. Clue is going to have to stay at the hospital a bit longer, the assistant informs us, making me feel dreadful for the poor dog who’s already shuffling towards the door in full preparation of going home.

I always feel for our dogs when they have to stay at the hospital, and not solely because they are ill. No. It is because of the miserable and sometimes scared look in their eyes as they watch us leave. Most of our dogs suffer from a severe fear of abandonment, allowing for little understanding on their part when they are left to the gentle care of the hospital staff.

With some more crooning and petting we finally lock him back in his cage, promising that we’ll be back for another visit tomorrow before we depart and head for the coast where the largest town in our area flourishes.
Supplies need to be acquired at the large home improvement store, for the kitchen and the bungalow both. We spend a good hours searching for plumbing tubes, connections, and a sink. Also, a long strip of linoleum for the bungalow and a new gas heater for when our tenant returns from her stay at the recovery home, adding a considerable burden to our limited budget.

Once we get home and have a quick meal of French fries –no one was in the mood for actual cooking today– big brother and I settle behind our computers once more to continue with the tale.
I don’t actually resurface until four hours later, with five brand new pages to add to the beginning I wrote earlier today.

Somehow the day has past me bye without notice, leaving me feeling somewhat brain-numb by the time I shut my computer down and turn to the kitchen to chat a bit with the sibs. They’re more than willing to add their bit to the latest story, offering me an attentive audience as I bring them up to date on the latest project.

Little brother eagerly offers to design a cover for the story, just in case a publisher would be interested in it, and the sisters offer a patient ear to endure a long and tedious narration to all the ideas that are spinning through my head.

Humor, it will be a vital part in this Vampire romance, we’ve decided. Danger and darkness, naturally, with a just a hint of mystery, perhaps, will make it an interesting endeavor for sure. Yes, ideas aplenty. Hah.

I almost forget giving Trin Trin her shot tonight, but with the help of younger sister, it gets done just minutes before the dogs race me up to the cabin and bounce around in demand of their evening meal.

Even though plans had been made for today, we don’t actually manage to do much about the kitchen project. I’ve no worries about that, however. The kitchen will come. There’s no need to hurry through it.

Some more messages need to be answered by the time I get to my room and hook up to the Net, but luckily –as is usually the case in the weekends– there aren’t as many, allowing me some more tweaking time for that which was written during the course of the day.

With only a few actual physical efforts in my name on this particular Saturday, I still find myself to be weary and more than ready to turn in for the night.