Category Archives: family

A Wednesday in March

More light in the kitchen late afternoons. I arranged my sister’s blue bottle collection on the sill to invite that vibration and to mark my sister’s passing.* This week marked two years gone. I’ve had a lot to say about that, but for now, not here.

This lovely heart came from Hazel after Noreen’s death. She was grieving too. I looked at the stitching up close today and appreciated once again, the craft, the care. My sister and I found this Virgin at a second hand store in Salem that we enjoyed frequenting. She mounted it on wood and added eye hooks. The ceramic pentacle had been hers as well.

Editing going full throttle right now. Or at least, as full throttle as I do anything anymore. Needed a solid nap this afternoon after being awake til three am.

When I couldn’t sleep last night, I came downstairs and read a Booker Prize winning novel set in Glasgow: Shuggie Bain. Alcoholic mother, despicable father, unbearable poverty. I’m compelled to finish but it is unrelentingly grim.

Almost done reading Eliza’s letters post-1744. Those describing her husband’s death are full of anguish, full of praise for Charles’s virtue and character. They had fourteen years together. Good years. Malaria did him in.

* also prompted by chakra/color exploration on sparklinglotusink, Acey’s blog.

Squeeze the balloon

Writing with others three mornings a week definitely lessens my need or impulse to show up here. I have to figure that out. For today: a completely disjointed post.

I’m ready for it to be warmer. It’ll be easier to wait for the “EVERYONE ELSE” category of vaccination then. I’m hoping.

If you can find Maddow’s final segment from last night, do. I’d share the clip but couldn’t find it — maybe next week? It was about the impossible becoming possible. A Catholic story, a tale of heroism and altruism. It was a real antidote to the epic assholery being reported about the GOP. That party… Gawd.

My paid manuscript consultant has finally taken up my book again. I’m trying not to think too hard about how loooonnnng next steps take. In the meantime, work set in Colorado is “coming through.”

Lawrence Durrell once said he didn’t know if he had a novel or not until he’d written over fifty pages. Well, I have much more than fifty pages already and I still don’t know. I swore I’d work from an outline if there was a next novel but that doesn’t appear to be an oath I’m keeping.

Reading about the bomb factory in Rocky Flats is research. Hair-raising.

It’s Saturday. I’m gonna eat breakfast today! Have a great weekend.

Sunday in pix

Someone likes my heating pad. And no wonder, temps have dropped here. I get to wear my Deb Lacativa scarf for our walk around the lake this morning.

Yesterday: gourd-shopping and mouse revival. Watched Borat II.

I’ve shortened her arms (pipe cleaners cut with wire cutters) and given her an orange scarf (pix coming).

My brother will be transported back to Los Angeles either on Friday or Monday. With California covid19 cases spiking into the 6,000’s, it’ll be a while before we venture West, but it will be so much better for him to be closer to home. The light. And once he gets home: his dogs.

Single digits, folks! Nine days until the election.