Peachy keen

peaches

I photographed these delicious organically grown peaches on the day that Zippy bought them at the farmers’ market way back in July, when the sun was still high in the sky and the days were long.

This morning I didn’t want to get out of bed because the house was cold. And even after doing my routine of exercise-yoga-hooping, I’m still chilly. My hands and feet are cold, and so is the tip of my nose.

Autumn is a truly beautiful season and I know it’s not yet winter, but today I’m feeling the cold and chill of what’s to come, and missing peach season.

 

 

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Chair sharks

This morning I settled into a chair to work. A while later, I got up for a coffee refill and returned to find an interloper:

loki-exposes-fangs

Loki bares his teeth to keep me from reclaiming the chair. (Actually, his black fur makes him ridiculously difficult to photograph which results in lots of these blurred “action” shots.)

In my family, we call that getting sharked. As in, “Loki just sharked my chair.”

Anyway, I was feeling generous so I moved to another chair, one that actually suited me better because it’s next to a window and big patch of warm sunshine, and worked there for some time. I then left to take care of something in another room and when I returned, found this:

marcel-in-sun

Marcel claiming my seat in the sun.

Sharked again!

Maybe I should bring the rocking chair up from the basement. I’ve heard that cats get real nervous around those . . .

 

 

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All does not suck

The bad news?
I’m suddenly feeling a bit rundown
and kinda puny
which is triggering pissed-off thoughts
such as
ARE YOU FREAKIN’ KIDDING ME?
AUTUMN IS JUST BARELY, OFFICIALLY HERE
AND I’M ALREADY GETTING SICK?!

Sick person

The good news?
I’ve hit my page goal every day this week, including today,
which means that despite
the fact that humanity is failing on a global level,
(a hugely depressing truth that’s undoubtedly contributing to my
run-down
worn-out
had-enough-already
puny feelings),
all does not suck.

happy-stick-girl

My plan of action?
Take it easy and repeat my new mantra:

ALL DOES NOT SUCK
ALL DOES NOT SUCK
ALL DOES NOT SUCK

 

 

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This gun for hire

Wildebeest’s first job was at Casa Bonita where he performed in skits while people sat poolside and choked down horrible “Mexican food.” The one time I visited the Denver-area landmark was to watch him in action and fortunately, because I ate no food, suffered zero digestive issues. I’m also happy to say that I very much enjoyed the show. One of the roles Wildebeest performed that day (and on a regular basis) was Black Bart.

f-at-casa-bonita

Here’s Wildebeest performing with Black Bart’s sister, Black Bertha.

Wildebeest loved his Casa Bonita job and has had several less-fun jobs since then. He now lives elsewhere and works part-time as a bellhop while going to school. He works in an historic hotel that puts on a melodrama in its theatre during peak season. The other day he was at work schlepping luggage for the guests (a job he truly enjoys) when a crisis arose: one of the regular performers for the melodrama hadn’t shown up. Management came to Wildebeest in a panic and said, “You’ve done gun fights before, right?”

He assured them he had, and then Wildebeest the Bellhop put on a costume and had a shoot-out on stage once again.

Moral of the story: you never know what part of your resume will come into play.

 

 

 

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Wearing the clown face

I was up all night and so am extremely tired today. Just woke from my nap in a patch of sunshine to find Marcel napping like this:

marcel-is-a-clown

The nose is a little large for Marcel’s face, but I’m glad to see he’s embraced Frank’s advice.

Dare to wear the foolish clown face.
~  Frank Sinatra

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Most tired when I don’t

I’ve been having a really hard time with my middle-grade this past week or so. I didn’t meet my revision goal for the week and was struggling with how to move forward. I was feeling burned out and not-so-enthusiastic about my writing endeavors. Any of them.

It was like an ongoing game of tug-of-war in my head. Back and forth swung my thoughts, emotions, and physical responses. Quit or not quit? Some or all? Finish this or start that? Fiction or nonficiton?

Image from Morguefile.

Image from Morguefile.

But as I did my cool-down walk this morning after a trail run, I realized that not making progress on the revision of my middle grade was part of why I feel burned out. It’s exhausting to be in forever-limbo with a project.

I wanted to quit because I felt shitty but I can’t quit because that will make me feel even shittier. In other words, writing can most certainly tire me out, BUT not writing may ultimately be even more draining.

Memo to self: sometimes I’m most tired when I don’t.

(Despite my wonderful little epihany, I am REALLY looking forward to finishing the damned book.)

 

 

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Inspirational Poetry

GET FUZZY by Darby Conley                                         September 26, 2016
getfuzzy-9-26-16


Inspirational as in “Now I don’t feel so bad about my poetry.”

Thanks, Satchel!

 

 

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Old Dog political perspective

I’m an old dog; I don’t get too excited.
I don’t get caught up in all the mass hysteria.
Tim Howard

This sweet old dog photo courtesy of Morguefile.

This sweet old dog photo courtesy of Morguefile.

I literally made myself ill in 2004 working against a second G.W. Bush/Cheney term, and today saw a photo of the radiant Michelle Obama embracing the loathsome Bush who created the cyle of death and destruction that continues today. Seeing them together like that was a kick to the gut.

And then I realized I shouldn’t be at all surprised.

Michelle’s husband expanded many of the immoral programs Bush put in place (drone program, for example), giving those Republican programs a bipartisan blessing that effectively cemented them as permanent U.S. policies. Now we’re about to have Round Two of a Clinton presidency, and the power structure keeps rolling along.

 An oligarchy runs this country and exploits the rest of the planet, and while it infuriates me, I refuse to make myself sick over it.

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Procrastination: Exhibit A

I’m “supposed” to be working on my middle-grade revisions, but am having a hard time getting motivated. As in, I haven’t touched it at all today. Instead, I took some photos of visitors to the new feeder location and realized it’ll be a whole new learning experience due to the lighting differences. The feeder used to be sheltered by the branches and leaves of the maple tree. Now the feeder is exposed on a slope where the afternoon light hits it hard.

My feathered friends’ photos ended up washed out, and I just spent a while playing with contrast, white balance, etc. settings.

finch-retooled

All that time playing with settings, you’d think I’d have something more impressive to show for it. Guess I need to get on those revisions so I actually accomplish something today.

 

 

 

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Take my garden, please

If you have a garden and a library, you have everything you need.
~  Marcus Tullius Cicero

I put three hours into my garden today and it still looks like Flora Run Amok. Right about now I’d welcome a garden abduction.

Asters take up a lot of garden bed real estate and don't bloom for a very long time, but when they do, they are lovely.

Asters take up a lot of garden real estate and don’t bloom for a very long time, but when they do, they are lovely. (I can admit that. I’m not a monster.)

Now off to read a book from the library . . .

 

 

 

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Hanging tough with THE INFAMOUS RATSOS

Writing a good novel is hard work. But writing a good early chapter book is even harder because there are fewer words to establish setting, characterization, humor and emotions, and plot. Kara LaReau’s new book THE INFAMOUS RATSOS hits all those marks (with a big assist from the illustrations by Matt Myers!)

the-infamous-ratsos-cover

From the inside flap:
Meet Louie and Ralphie Ratso, two brothers who want to be tough, tough, tough, just like their dad, Big Lou. But every time they try to show just how tough they are, the Ratso brothers end up accidentally doing good deeds instead. What’ll Big Lou do when he finds out they’ve been acting like softies all over the Big City?

From Kara LaReau and Matt Myers, here is a clever and funny new chapter book about two wannabe infamous brothers who are bad at being bad.

I laughed in a bunch of places but especially loved whenever Ralphie Ratso tossed out another “Nyah-nyah!” in hopes of establishing his “tough” cred.

I highly recommend getting your hands on a copy of THE INFAMOUS RATSOS . Do yourself a favor and bring some heart and humor into your day, Ratsos style!

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Fold here

Zebu is studying in Sweden for two semesters and has been there just over a month. Phone calls are expensive so we rely on texting and Skype chats to stay connected. He’s eight hours ahead of us so our Skype sessions are usually at the end of his day. Today we talked as he folded the laundry he’d just washed and dried at the student housing laundromat.

He told me about the pick-up basketball game he played last night, in which he was (at 6′ 3″) one of the smaller guys on his team. All communication by his teammates was in Swedish, but because Zebu is taking Swedish classes he now knows how to count which meant he knew the score at all times last night.

He also shared an anecdote about his German friend who speaks nearly flawless English with a penchant for old timey expressions. Apparently this guy recently described something as “a hoot and a half,” which made Zebu and a Canadian friend bust out laughing, and then a bit later the German described something not-so-good as “no hoot, no half.”

Skype allows you mobility and we often move out of camera range as we continue talking. I started the session sitting at the kitchen bar counter but as I watched Zebu hang shirts on hangers and match socks, I felt unproductive. So I carried the laptop/Zebu downstairs to the laundry room to retrieve a load of my clothes from the dryer where they’d sat for over a week (I know, I know). Then I came back upstairs and folded in unison with my son who is nearly 5000 miles away.

Disclosure: The product placement was inadvertent and I received zero compensation from HP.

Disclosure: The product placement was inadvertent and I received zero compensation from HP.

The family that folds together, stays together. Or something like that.

 

 

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Pinky Whitehead for the win

I loved HARRIET THE SPY from the very first time I read it, which was approximately one thousand years ago. Harriet inspired me to carry around a notebook so I could jot down whatever thoughts came to mind. (I remember that my furtive watching and scribbling creeped out one of my good friends, probably because I hadn’t fully absorbed the importance of how Harriet’s friends were hurt and angry after getting hold of her notebook and reading about themselves.)

I know I’m not unique; plenty of writers were inspired by Harriet. But to this day, HARRIET THE SPY resonates with me. I love filling notebooks. I love watching people and making up scenarios for what I observe. And I love my cat who conjures up one of the all-time best character names:

marcel-as-pinky-whiteheadPinky Whitehead!

My cat’s name is Marcel, but those pink ears and nose always transport me back to HARRIET THE SPY. Maybe someday I’ll know a cat that brings to mind Ole Golly . . .

 

 

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Micromanaging my emotions

When I get frustrated and angry it sometimes helps to focus on something else, preferably something pleasing and/or interesting to look at. Something with different colors and textures, sizes and shapes, and quality of light.  penstemon

Something that reminds me of my tiny role in the universe.

 

 

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Taking a knee

If freedom makes social progress possible,
so social progress strengthens and enlarges freedom.

~ Robert Kennedy

Colin Kaepernick and Arian Foster take a knee during national anthem. GRANT HALVERSON/GETTY IMAGES

Colin Kaepernick and Arian Foster take a knee during national anthem.                                                               GRANT HALVERSON/GETTY IMAGES

 

 

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Making room for anxiety

Can’t point my finger at just one thing that’s provoking anxiety today,
it’s more an accumulation of a whole lot of stuff twirling in my head.

Image from Morguefile.com

Image from Morguefile.com

Anxiety and I are well-acquainted with one another,
and I know the best approach
is to acknowledge that the anxiety is there,
accept its existence rather than try to fight it,
and then move on with my life.

So.

I’m feeling anxious,
it’s not a good feeling but I accept that it’s happening,
and now I’m going to go work on my middle-grade revisions.

Take that, Anxiety.

 

 

 

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If you move it, they will come

For years our main bird feeder hung off a branch near the trunk of our red maple. We had a great view from our dining room window and spent many happy hours watching the birds. The good news is our maple tree has thrived in our yard (our one and only true success with planting trees at this house), but the bad news is that we could no longer see the feeder due to all the growth.

Out of sight equaled out of mind, and filling the feeder became hit and miss. For the most part, the birds gave up on us.

Today we purchased a feeding pole and moved the feeder to its new location outside the other dining room window.

The feeder is located next to the stump from the ash tree that used to reside here but has since passed on.

The feeder is now located next to the stump from the ash tree that resided there before succumbing to our bad tree juju.

The feeder is now also located close to where our bird bath was situated. We foolishly left our heated bird bath out there all season and it fell victim to the same hail storm that destroyed our roof. We were (and still are) sure there’s another unheated bird bath somewhere in this house, but we’ve been unable to find it. So today we finally caved in and bought another one (which Zippy insists means we will find the missing bath), and set it up on the patio.

This bath seems to be the one stable structure out on our ever-shifting patio.

The insurance company is replacing our heated bath, but we won’t put that one out until the temperatures drop.

Now all that’s left to do is sit back and wait for the birds to find us again.

 

 

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