Head Above Water. Just.

I'm working on the novel. A little.

Mostly, I'm working on making from day to day as gracefully as I can. I mean respectfully, optimistically, and with dignity. As opposed to growling, snapping and whining at myself and the nearest target (unfortunately usually my immediate family).

This sounds so pathetic. I mean, I'm not in Iraq. I don't have cancer. Life is in general so good. I have no serious complaints. My problems are petty, middle-class problems.

But here's what seems to have happened. AGAIN. I seem to have bitten off more than I can chew.

I somehow (while sober, mind you) signed up to absolutely accomplish the following, all in the same 2 weeks:
Finish the novel
Lose 10 pounds
Lead training sessions at work (I have finally created my first PowerPoint presentation!)
Make not 1 but 2 costumes

(The last of these necessitated unpacking my mother's sewing machine and then finding the foot pedal - which itself took 3 hours - and experiencing again, more deeply, that loss. Grieving alone seems to still be a full-time background-process job - a unix geek could do a PID of my brain & heart & find all sorts of interesting stuff there.)

This is on top of the usual working fulltime, running the kids to gymnastics & dance & riding, and the meetings for school & the Nutcracker rehearsals, and preparation for an upcoming (and very cool, yet to be blogged) Red Tent retreat for the girls in R's class.

I bit off too much, and I'm paying the price for it. And writing about it exorcises the stress, but still. How many times will I have to learn this lesson?

At least once more, apparently.

What do you mean I haven't blogged?

I can't blog.
I'm too busy finishing the first draft of my novel.
Somebody thinks I can't finish it by Nov. 1st, in time to start another 50,000 words.

Oh, ye of little faith, I say.

Ptttthhh to ye, I say.

What I learned this week

How to sew the strap on ballet slippers.

R has decided to drop gymnastics and take up ballet.

She had 3 words to report back after the first "drop in" night for the beginner teen/adult class (which they said she could attend even though she's 12):

"Sign me up."

So I will. Clearly, both my daughters have an interest in dance that goes beyond what I felt for the art form as a child.

When I was little - maybe 4 or 5 - my mother signed me up for a ballet class. I fought extreme shyness every lesson in order to go, but not because I wanted to dance. Instead, I went back for the brief storytime that was a part of each class, when the instructor would tell an installment of the Nutcracker to all the squirmy little girls gathered in a spill of pink tulle around her on the floor.

What I didn't realize was that the story was just a hook to get us to come back. I didn't expect that it would actually end, and that there would be no Sheherazade-like continuation of the entertainment. Once Clara came home, and I saw that it was going to be all dance and no plot from then on out, I refused to go back.

I think I've learned since then that sometimes life is the story, though. If only you look for it. I mean the students, and the teacher, and the chalky smell of the studio, and the way the mirror was a little warped - all those things were the real story. The Nutcracker was a red herring, nothing more than a plot element that drove this particular character away and into another direction.

Sewing the strap on the ballet slipper while S chatters. Having R grin and say, "Sign me up!" That's the story right now.

Squirrel pox!

It's good to know that someone cares about the Squirrel Nutkin's descendents, the little red squirrels in Britain.

Apparently, they're reintroducing drays of them to Yorkshire from a reserve in the Welsh island of Anglesey (aka Ynys Môn) to boost the population in the face of the evil, potentially pox-ridden American grey squirrels that are the scourge of the trees in Britain.

See the story of the reintroduction here.

And more about the folks who are trying to save them, The Friends of the Anglesey Red Squirrels, here.

You can also read about it in Welsh, if you'd like.

Stolen meme

I'm shamelessly grabbing this from Trey's blog. That's what he gets for commenting on mine.

Two Words:

1. Explain what ended your last relationship.
Ended? Ended?

2. When was the last time you shaved?
This morning

3. What were you doing this morning at 8 a.m.?
Calming customers

4. What were you doing 15 minutes ago?
Reading blogs

5. Are you any good at math?
Balanced checkbook

6. Your prom night?
Didn't go

7. Do you have any famous ancestors?
Mayflower passenger

8. Have you had to take a loan out for school?
Fortunately no

9. Do you know the words to the song on your myspace profile?
Resisting Myspace

10. Last thing received in the mail?
junk mail

11. How many different beverages have you had today?
Only three

12. Do you ever leave messages on people's answering machine?
Of course

13. Who did you lose your CONCERT virginity to?
John Denver

14. Do you draw your name in the sand when you go to the beach?
Prefer anonymity

15. What's the most painful dental procedure you've had?
Deep cleaning

16. What is out your back door?
Best intentions

17. Any plans for Friday night?
Dinner guests

18. Do you like what the ocean does to your hair?
Mostly, yes

19. Have you ever received one of those big tins of 3 different popcorns?
Sadly, yes

20. Have you ever been to a planetarium?
Mais ouis

21. Do you re-use towels after you shower?
Within reason

22. Some things you are excited about?
Sleeping tonight

23. What is your favorite flavor of JELLO?
Prefer dirt

24. Describe your keychain(s)?
Just essentials

25. Where do you keep your change?
Red wallet

26. When was the last time you spoke in front of a large group of people?
Church service

27. What kind of winter coat do you own?
Black pea

28. What was the weather like on your graduation day?
Apparently forgettable

29. Do you sleep with the door to your room open or closed?
Sleep? Sleep?

Still here

Just a post to say I'm here, and although I know better by now than to make promises I can't keep, I'm downright giddy because S's school days are an hour longer starting today. This means an hour of time alone at home 4 days a week (early release Thursday doesn't count). An hour I've never had before!

It will be tempting to sleep, or run, or buy groceries unencumbered by kids during that hour, but instead I plan to use it to write, and that includes blogging.

And there was much rejoicing.

Call me crazy

Today while R went for a long hike with friends at on a Pt. Reyes trail, and D went for his weekly gaming marathon at his friend's house, S and I spent some quality time at the fabric store.

We picked out a bright cheerful green cotton duck for new livingroom curtains. (Well, ok, it's lime, but that beats the drab, musty forest green velvet we've had there, and I need the change.)

We also -thanks to a sale and my second daughter's incredible mind-bending powers - bought the pattern and fabric for her to be a witch this Halloween. Keep in mind that I don't really, actually, sew. Much. Curtains I feel I can do. But the last time I tried to sew a whole Halloween costume was that turtle-thing we made for R when she was one. We were still hot-gluing as she toddled out the door. And all I really got out of the experience was a headache, lots of tears (mine), and, about five years later, a poem. Which, on balance, isn't that bad, but still.

S was so excited about the project that she insisted on carrying the fabric to the car and holding it all the way home. When we had just walked through the door, she said, "Mom? I'm just asking. Are you going to start on my costume now? I'm just asking."

"I'm just asking," is her new tactic for staving off a quick "no" to any number of unreasonable requests. It's the sweet dotted swiss ribbon she ties around her manipulative questions.

"Not tonight," I told her.

I'm just saying.

The end of a long week

When you work Sunday through Saturday, it's like some kind of blessing to live until the end of the week. I'm glad I've arrived.

Because hope springs eternal, this will be the post for Sept. 19th!

This will be the post for Sept. 18th!

Birthday shout out #4

How many Virgos are there in my life?
There can't be too many, apparently.

Today is Suzanne's birthday. And though from the sound of her blog post, it could hardly have been a worse day, I'm wishing her a happy year.

Or, as my grandmother always said, "And many happy returns of the day!"

Birthday shout out #3

Today was D's birthday. So much more to say about that - but it will have to wait.
Sorry about the tease...

What's not to love?

Friday and payday - whoo-hoo!

Birthday shout out #2

Today is Clare's birthday.
Clare is so cool. She is Super-mama, super friend, a true Christian in all the best senses of the word.
And even though she has the nerve to stay in another state and not move closer to where I live, I can forgive her that. Because she's so dang lovable, that's why. Happy Birthday Clare!

Birthday shout out #1

Jen's birthday today. Jen doesn't read blogs as a rule, and for a very good reason. She doesn't quite understand why one would read about what one's friends are doing when one can just have a conversation instead. I sometimes - especially when I'm over a week behind in writing little bits about little nothings - completely understand her point of view.

Happy birthday anyway, Jen!

Patch Tuesday

Those of us who do not use Windows products may not know about this. Even those of us who do use Windows may not be aware that the second Tuesday of any month is the day when Microsoft traditionally releases its security patches.

That would be today.

I didn't know about this fact, and I have a Windows machine at home, and help people with crashed PC drives all day long at work. (Those of you savvy sysadmin types who are reading this blog entry, please excuse my ignorance.)

And while any Wikipedia article is likely to have a bias based on who wrote it, I also found this quote interesting:

Some system administrators have also been known to call this day "Black Tuesday."

Those system administrators. Such kidders.

Of course, one thing leads to another on the internet. Did you know how many things the phrase "Black Tuesday" refers to? See the above Wikipedia entry for more details. Not the luckiest day of the week, apparently.

9/11/06, 5 years on

S wanted to know why I put the US flag up today, and why the neighbors were flying theirs. I wasn't sure what to tell her. I opted for a vague outline: five years ago, some people did some bad things that hurt a lot of other people way over on the other side of the country. I said we were remembering what happened, and thinking about the people who lost loved ones that day. I said it was a show of support.

Part of me wanted to say nothing at all about any of it, because it was so outside her experience, and I didn't want to scare her, or suggest that all was not well with the world. Besides, she was preoccupied by getting ready to go to a new gymnastics class with other people she didn't know. 9/11 was not on her mind.

At the same time, I wanted to stop everything, sit her down, and tell her how violence breeds violence, and that sometimes leaders whose office you respect can make decisions that you don't agree with.

But last night I had a dream about the rapture. S and I found ourselves floating, flying a little above ground while other things - crazy things, like fish and dolphins and ships and planes - fell from the sky. Some people were shooting heavenward, some were running in panic. I was trying to figure out what was happening, and what we should do - pray? find the rest of the family? try to stay? try to leave more quickly? - when I was awoken by S coming into our room out of the blue because she was scared and couldn't sleep.

"I'm sorry," I explained to her, knowing as I got up that my alarm was due to go off any minute anyway. "I had a dream and you were in it, so I bet that kept you from sleeping." At 3:40am, this made perfect sense to me.

"I dreamt we were flying," I told her, tucking her back in after a trip to the bathroom and the obligatory sip of water. What do we tell our children? What do we keep from them?

"We were flying," I said, "and it was really cool."

Sunday in the Park with friends

So, after we returned home from camping, we quickly cleaned up & went to celebrate our friend's 2 year birthday at a new local park. (Everybody say, "ELMO CAKE!!!")

After the party, some of us took a 2 hour nap. I might have been one of the guilty (but eventually well-rested parties).

The day was uneventful apart from that. There's something lovely about late-day puttering Sunday, especially if it wards off the pre-work week blues. It helps me to remember that intense productivity is not the only way to peace of mind.

Camping, finally

It was only one night, but we did manage to pack up all the gear and sleeping bags and more food than we'd normally need for a week - just in case - and take ourselves, said gear, and the tent to China Camp for a camping trip with other families from R's class.

We had a lovely time chatting with other parents & R's teacher while eating a gourmet potluck (including slices of mozzarella with home grown tomatoes and basil, fresh grilled vegetables, and roughy for some of the adults). The campfire skits presented by the 11 year olds (2 boys, 2 girls) were more alarming than entertaining - barnyard humor at it's pre-teen finest. (Now *they* would probably like Better Off Dead, even if they didn't grow up in the 80's.) But the kids had so. much. fun.

I love sleeping under the stars, and slept well - even, reportedly, no snoring! (which is pretty amazing, for me). In the morning, we packed up and came home for our next social engagement. But that's Sunday's post, which I have yet to post-write and pre-date....

Friday

This was Friday; nothing special to report, just preparing for the weekend camping trip and being so glad the work week, even though abbreviated by the holiday, was over.

D. and I, having independently been told by friends that we had to watch Better Off Dead, managed only 5 minutes of it before giving up, apparently immune to the same rip-roaring humor that had our friends laughing until they were crying or spitting out their drinks. It was lost on us, and you know? life is too short to watch a movie that does nothing for you.

Instead, we watched Reign of Fire, a Road Warrior-Dragon Slayer hybrid that, especially compared to Better Off Dead, completely did it for me. I must confess that I really do dig post-apocalyptic survivalist movies. I think they appeal to both my fatalistic inclinations and my admiration for determination in the face of adversity. Besides, Christian Bale follows in the tradition of Richard Burton, Sir Anthony Hopkins, and Ioan Gruffudd of being Welsh born. Cymru Am Byth!