Patio bloom. July 12, 2020.
Almost missed her there
worker ant making the rounds
colorful work space
Friday Haiku
Author: Tracy Abell
All hail the king
Western Kingbird. Grand Island, NE. 6.2.20
The U.S. Senate just adjourned until September 8 without passing a stimulus package. They’re going back to their comfortable homes and lives, oblivious to the pain and suffering of the peasants. If we’re going to be ruled by an entitled aristocracy, I’d prefer to bow down to a feathered king.
Wordless Wednesday: Uppsala, Sweden
May 4, 2017
Highlight reel
Emma the doggo and I walked on the trails this morning. At one point, as she snuffled at the many odors in the vegetation, something caught my eye. I got a brief glimpse of big ears and two eyes of a creature peering at me from behind a bush farther up the trail. We remained motionless, staring at one another. As my brain tried to process what I was seeing, I blinked, and the animal was gone. I’m pretty sure it was a coyote, although much smaller than this one.
By g’pa bill – Coyote Dad, CC BY-SA 2.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=22832337
Emma didn’t even notice the coyote, but as we advanced up the trail her sniffing became even more urgent. I searched the surrounding area: no sign of what I’d seen. I could almost believe I imagined the whole thing, but every time I close my eyes I picture the fur, the intense eyes, and those enormous ears.
Definitely the highlight of my day.
Pandemic selfie
Image by Harald Matern from Pixabay
This is a slight exaggeration.
My horns aren’t quite this long.
(Confession: I just spent approximately one thousand minutes perusing free goat images on Pixabay. Fellow goat-lovers . . . proceed at your own risk.)
Shopping List: amended
Yesterday morning I added “binder clips” to the shopping list. Because even though years ago I’d purchased a large package of assorted clips, they’d somehow disappeared, one by one. Time to restock.
Fast forward a couple hours: I decided to do some de-cluttering and focused my efforts on my manuscript boxes. Or, as in the case of the first two books I ever wrote: manuscript bins. When I first began writing novels, I thought “revision” equaled “editing,” and had printed out multiple copies of the full manuscript each time I “revised” even though my “revisions” were typically line edits. (Yes, I was a clueless newbie.) As a result, it required one 66-quart bin each to hold the many copies of those first projects. It didn’t help that I’d made another newbie mistake and wrote in Courier New font which is a big and ugly font that required more pages. Those manuscripts were voluminous! Well, I’m happy to announce those projects are now stored in letter-sized cardboard boxes.
The good news is that I understood revision better on the next two novels I wrote and, instead of bins, the stuff I’d printed out “only” required two letter-sized boxes each. Four boxes for two manuscripts. A definite improvement, but why so many pages? Apparently, I was anticipating school visits in which I’d show students samples of my revision process. In addition to the full manuscripts I’d printed out along the way, I’d also saved many, many chapters with crossed-out lines, inserted phrases, and arrows pointing to new paragraph placement. Proof of the revision process, man.
Really, Tracy?
By late afternoon, the back of my Subaru was filled with boxes of paper I’ll take to the recycling center. And now every single book I’ve written is stored in its own tidy cardboard box and stacked in my writing room closet. It’s like a happy reunion of my creative process because the projects in the bins were formerly stored in the basement!
And that shopping list? Binder clips → Binder clips.
Because guess what was holding together all the chapters and manuscripts in those bins and boxes?
Phlox R Us
This spent phlox is a pretty accurate representation for how I’m feeling today.
August 6, 2020
Bloomed out.
Worn out.
Depleted.
But just as this hardy perennial will gather its resources in order to bloom again in the future, so will I. Hopefully, it won’t take me until next summer to do so.
YES to beer NO to fascism
Two days ago, a neighbor a couple houses up the street started flying one of those TR*MP Keep America Great flags. It made me ill. Yesterday, the house across the street from that flag-flying home displayed their own Keep America Great flag. Today? The house next to that second house is sporting a Tr*mp yard sign.
I can’t even.
Shall we begin with the fact that this country, built on genocide and slavery, was never great for a whole lot of people? Or the blatant transfer of money and power to the already rich and powerful? Maybe the rollback of environmental regulations and climate denialism? The deployment of Homeland Security to crack protestors’ heads and shoot them in the faces? Or maybe the 1,000 COVID-19 deaths per day? Etc., etc., etc.? Great, indeed.
My reaction to the neighbors? I wanted to fly an Antifa flag, but Zippy worried the ignorance surrounding that message would result in violence directed at us. So what was his preferred message? F*ck Tr*mp. While I approve that sentiment, this moment is much larger than that loathsome individual. Negotiation ensued.
I’m pleased to announce I found a message we’re both happy to display.
I also ordered an Earth flag to replace the one we displayed during the invasion and occupation of Iraq. Many people in our neighborhood fly U.S. flags and I doubt they’ll even see past all their red, white, and blue, but that’s okay. An earth flag will help me remember we’re all in this together.
ETA: Here’s something from the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum:
Does any of this sound familiar?
Busy bee
I got out of bed at 7:20 this morning, which is early for me (I know, I know), because I had a call scheduled with my agent to discuss revising my middle grade novel. The good news is that although there’s much work ahead of me, I’m excited about this book again.
Bee on Fern Bush. August 4, 2020
Before the call, I felt zero enthusiasm. I couldn’t imagine how I’d revise this book in a way that would satisfy my agent’s (valid) concerns while remaining true to my vision. Fortunately, my agent has a keen editorial eye and made several excellent suggestions that give me a path forward. I’m so relieved! So happy!
Now, all that’s left to do is the actual work. HA! This busy bee needs to get revising.
Mondays gonna Monday
It’s Monday and it feels like a Monday. All I’ve got to offer are these two slightly out of focus Day Lilies I photographed a month ago.
July 3, 2020
Here’s hoping your Monday is following a different script.
Sunday Confessional: murder
I started the quarantine with only about eight checked-out library books that I read *sob* and then held onto for months until my library system started accepting returns again. While I did download a few ebooks this spring, I don’t enjoy that format, and instead concentrated on my bookshelves. The bad news is, I’ve already read most of what I have at home. The good news? I don’t mind rereading books.
This past week or so, I’ve reread three Raymond Chandler novels featuring Philip Marlowe (The Big Sleep; The High Window; The Lady in the Lake) and two Rex Stout novels featuring Nero Wolfe (Might As Well Be Dead; Death of a Doxy).
Witty private detectives + murder = self-care.
Happy #Caturday!
Greetings from my friend, Marcel.
July 2020.
This peanut butter kitty could definitely kick our asses with his enormous feet, but Marcel prefers to snuggle. In fact, he’s in ecstasy when I rub the the bottoms of those long feet and often drools during our massage sessions. Gotta admire his unapologetic hedonism.
Friday Haiku
Spotted Towhee & House Finch. July 26, 2020.
Water for the bees
Towhee and Finch say “Yes, please”
clean feathers are key
Thankful Thursday: Jim James edition
Today I’m grateful for the music of Jim James, specifically “Tribute To” which I’ve started listening to while doing yoga.
Jim James aka Yim Yames. Image from Wikimedia
The gentle music plus the gentle motion brings me peace.
Hello, spreadsheet!
I’m gearing up to do another round of revisions on my middle grade novel and realized it would be helpful to have a chapter breakdown of the latest version. Enter the spreadsheet! While I do love being organized and having all that information in one place (chapter, POV, setting/day/time, summary, page #s, revision ideas), I’m not exactly oozing enthusiasm right now. Not, say, like this pup.
Pixabay.com
But when I went in search of a free image of a spreadsheet, this smiling doggo was on the home page and I challenge anyone to resist that face.
I’m sure we can all just visualize a spreadsheet.
Rx for what ails me
Today’s been exhausting on multiple levels: personal, professional, societal, and human-on-the-planet. I just took a much-needed nap and am now posting this burst of yellow as a reminder of all the beauty in our world.
July 12, 2020.
Next on my self-care agenda? Scrubbing out my kitchen sinks.
Please do whatever you need to take care of yourselves.
Music in my heart
Grand Island, NE. June 2, 2020.
I listened, motionless and still;
And, as I mounted up the hill,
The music in my heart I bore,
Long after it was heard no more.
~ William Wordsworth
Wheels are turning
Just did some research for what might be my next project.
Image by S. Hermann & F. Richter from Pixabay
Even if none of it pans out, I like this feeling. Wheels turning. Creative juices flowing. Endless possibilities. Huzzah!
Friday Haiku
Off I-76. June 5, 2020.
Accidental pic
each look gives me vertigo
my world at a slant
A message from our sponsor
We interrupt our regularly scheduled program
Climate rally in Boulder, CO. March 15, 2019.
with a message from our sponsor
Climate rally in Boulder, CO. March 15, 2019.
Remember: there is no Planet B.
Woot!
Finished my revisions! Time to do the Emu!
Image by Wolfgang Michalke from Pixabay
Wait, do the what? Well, according to Wikipedia, emus spend their day:
- foraging
- preening their plumage with their beak
- dust bathing
- resting
Two out of four ain’t bad.
Thwarting my brain
I’ve had to revisit Dr. John Sarno’s mind-body connection lately due to ongoing vertigo. After three weeks of living at a tilt, I had an epiphany and realized it was my brain trying to distract me from the many emotions I’m experiencing during these difficult times. My brain thinks I’ll be better served if I’m focused on bogus sensations rather than doing the helpful things that help me manage my anger/anxiety/fear, helpful activities such as trail-running. Since the onset of this dizzy bullshit on June 9, I haven’t run on the trails. Because what’s scarier than rocks and roots sticking up on narrow , uneven trails, hoping to trip an already-tippy me?
I’ll tell you. A three-foot snake across the trail.
Image from Wikimedia Commons
How do I know? This morning I finally went out in the open space. (note: the vertigo has greatly subsided since I caught on to my brain, but things are still off.) I’d only run about 20 feet from the trail head when my right foot came down close to an enormous snake. I let loose with my customary profanity as I jumped left. The snake didn’t acknowledge my presence, but my heart still pounded as I watched it slither along. No rattling. I now think it was a bull snake, but I didn’t lean in to verify whether it had slit-like pupils (rattlesnake) as opposed to a bull snake’s circular pupils. I will say that I had a whole new pep in my step when I started running again. Adrenaline can be a beautiful thing.
During my three-mile run, I also saw rabbits on the part of the trail we call the “bunny run” and later on kicked up a flock of magpies. The Spotted Towhees were also out in force, singing their “sweet-sweet-teeeeaaaa” songs. It was wonderful being there again. My pace was slow but my spirits were high.
Take that, brain!
Feathered mystery
Grand Island, NE. June 2, 2020.
This is an Eurasian Collared-Dove.
The possession of knowledge does not kill the sense of wonder and mystery. There is always more mystery. ~ Anais Nin
Where’s the head? Are those wing or tail feathers? Did a tornado just blow through?
Friday Haiku
Question for this crowd:
do you oppose fascism
or only the masks?
Thankful Thursday
It’s hard getting out of bed these days. I eventually got myself upright and after my morning ablutions, I reached for my hoop. For twenty minutes, I hoop-danced in front of my living room window. My mood lifted and I felt more energized. As I danced to the music, my eyes kept going to the purple coneflowers in the front garden bed and I told myself I’d photograph them when the dance session ended.
Purple Coneflowers. July 16, 2020.
Today I am grateful for these flowers, for my hoop, for music, and for my climate activist friend who’s currently reading my middle grade novel to make sure I didn’t misrepresent anything. Also? I’m glad I got out of bed.
Tracy Abell 