Song of the day: “One way or another” by Sophie Ellis-Bextor. I know, originally it’s not hers, but I like her version best, so there.
I’m going to keep this as short as possible, because I am once again running behind one…well, everything due to this undeniable need to fix my favorite (safari type) pants, which I fully intend to wear tomorrow (you know, the job thingy. Doing a test run tomorrow afternoon). So I’m a little nuts. From various movies during my misspent youth I have formed a certain image of what someone bringing around papers (you know, that paper route past is playing up again) is supposed to wear.
I’m thinking fade-out brown baggy pants (way baggy what with the eighty pounds gone, but what the heck), canvas hiking boots, sleeveless (as in cut-off) T or a bright orange and a grey baseball cap (it’s got Vermont on the front), just to keep those pesky short curls under control…rather than risk an Einstein hairdo within an hour. What do you think? Will that work? Or should I go for classy. White ironed top, pressed slacks or skirt…gawd, I can’t even write it down with a straight face. Never mind. Baggy and cut-off it is. Hah.
Next thing I’m wondering about is conversation. Seriously, five hours in a car with a complete stranger. What to talk about? I mean, really, I can be the stoic silent type as good as the next person but do it too long and I might come across as some sort of crazy psychopath waiting to pounce. Hah. I could of course ask stuff about newspapers and how that bizz goes. It’s a safe enough topic I guess. I’ll have to see rather than worry about it, I know, but try telling my stupid brain that. Apparently it likes worrying about stuff that hasn’t happened yet.
Which means I haven't slept well at all these past couple of days. I just couldn't shut my brain off (POed me, by the way) through which I ended up dreaming about worrisome stuff that had me wake up bathing in sweat, with heart-burn and my heart going pitter patter. Insanity!
Yesterday, you’re not going to believe this, but we had an honest-to-gawd rainstorm during the early hours of morning. I’m talking pouring, seriously, there was a slight mudslide by the side of the path and that is totally unheard of in August. In Spain. The south, no less. Aaaah. But anyway, it has been cloudy ever since, which is a wonderful change to say the least. Really, if I didn’t know any better I’d think it was October, or something.
Writing: It is not going bad. I have almost reached forty pages, so we’re at a fifth of the story. I’ve got an overview going, meaning that I’ve got about sixteen basic scenes that should make up the chapters for the complete story. We’ll get there yet. Got leads, supportive characters, a dog, locations, jobs, backgrounds, the whole shebang. Now all I need to do is put it all down in strong writing and then we’re all set. Hah.
Yesterday was rather busy. While mom and both younger sisters were at the local market, big brother, grandpa and I put a new layer on the (new) wall of the basin. Managed it in an hour to boot, so yay. Afterwards I wrote four pages, at which time I left tenant comfortably settled on the terrace while I made cement/concrete for the gutter that leads all the way down the basin. Succeeded with that as well, leaving the gutter done and only a part of the path needs to be poured now.
Even though we did the anti parasite bath for the dogs just recently, there are still a handful of dogs that are really bothered by ticks and flees at the moment. It almost seems as if the stuff made it worse, or something.
Made beets, chard and pumpkin for in the freezer. We’re getting a nice color selection inside the box, I’ll admit, and I’m curious if it will be edible.
At the moment, in the rare spare minutes (for instance on the toilet, hah) I’m reading Sue Grafton’s Kinsey Millhone novels. I hadn’t thought I would like them when I first discovered that they were first person, but I’m pleased to not that the woman writes pleasantly. I’ve only got three of her stories, C, J, and N, (donations again, hah) and I’m at the N now, so…what to read next, I don’t know. Darn it.
Well, there’s Jack Vance’s Adventure Planet, of course, but seeing as that is a writing style I’ve got down pat, I’m thinking I should aim for something a little more modern, which could be useful to me.
Which brings us to the end of today’s blog. I’ve got a book to write, and I’m sure you have better things to do then read this stuff. Hah. Gotta go.
Showing posts with label worrying. Show all posts
Showing posts with label worrying. Show all posts
Sunday, August 15, 2010
Monday, March 23, 2009
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.
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.
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