Tonight on my drive home, I was able to see the lines on the road for the first time in 48 hours. It was an amazing feeling, knowing where I was at and where I was going. If only I could feel that kind of certainty all the time.
(c) 2013. All rights reserved.
Today has been a day of dashed expectations and…interesting results. If you follow me on Twitter, then you’ll know that today’s forecasted 30% chance of a trace to an inch of snow turned into yet another raging blizzard. We’re supposed to get five to nine inches now, we’re in a winter storm warning till noon tomorrow, and the wind has once again been blowing like a banshee. This time the speeds have been around 20-30 mph with gusts a little higher. I left work early after hearing how treacherous the roads were; it was a nightmare of a drive that necessitated some cookie therapy.
Once I got the boys up from their much-delayed naps, I started on supper. Since both the older kids are with their other parents today, I had to leave Cricket and Thumper to their own devices in the living room where they could be contained while I threw some chicken in a pot with some rice and cream of mushroom soup (delish, by the way). When I came back, I found them sneaking out of my book collection, phone and books in hand, and Thumper pantsless.
. . .and I needed a little cheering up because, well, you know – it’s a Monday. Luckily, I found these waiting for me when I arrived home:
Now that’s what I call comfort food.
Photo by Kay Kauffman
Don’t they look delicious? I’m trying to be good and not eat them all but, well, I have no willpower. I’ll be lucky if they’re still here come morning. 😀
I mean, really, who can resist the power of the Girl Scout cookies? They’re like $3 boxes of crack, only addictive. Well, more addictive. You know what I mean. Also, it’s late, I’m tired, I may have had one or two or ten of them by now, please to insert my usual litany of excuses here, thankyouverymuch.
And now I’m going to try to sleep off the yummy yummy cookies (that were not made with real Girl Scouts (please, dear God, tell me someone other than me gets that so that I don’t feel quite so silly)). It was a long day at work today, but an okay kind of long for once, so hopefully that’s a sign of things to come. Here’s hoping everyone else’s week is off to a great start!
(c) 2013. All rights reserved.
The Perks of Being a Wallflower (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
So way back in November, my book club had its very first meeting. The book we were supposed to read was The Perks of Being a Wallflower and I completely forgot to check it out until about a week before the meeting. Naturally, my local library didn’t have it. Neither did the one the next town over. Fortunately, the library where I work had it. Unfortunately, it was already out. So, with a week to spare, I asked them to put it on reserve for me and prayed it would come in with enough time for me to read it before my meeting. Then I headed to Barnes & Noble to see what ridiculous price they wanted to charge for it. I left the store empty-handed, my hopes of reading the book before the movie crushed even further.
A couple of weeks ago, the library called. The Perks of Being a Wallflower was in – did I still want it? Despite the fact that the meeting I’d wanted it for was three months passed, I figured, why not? I’ve heard great things about it and I’d really like to see the movie, so let’s see what it’s all about. . . behind the cut!
From the moment we are conceived, we are part of a story. And once we are born, we begin to tell our own stories. New plotlines are added every day; new characters and plot twists pop up like dandelions in new spring grass. These stories shape our personalities and color our interactions with the world around us; the stories we tell ourselves affect every aspect of who we are and who we will become.
Photo by Kay Kauffman
Stories shape, and sometimes even become, our worldview. But when that worldview is challenged, how do you respond? Such challenges are often met with outrage, sometimes even hostility. People throughout history have paid the price for their inability to rewrite their own sagas, sometimes losing sanity and life. As ink jockeys, we know that all writing is rewriting, but what about the ordinary storytellers of the world?
Well, it’s that time of year again: the stores are full of chocolates, red and pink decorations abound, and if you’re not careful, Cupid might get you with his trusty bow and arrow. That’s right, Valentine’s Day approacheth! Joleene Naylor, one of the wonderful members of the Ink Slingers League, is hosting a little blog hop celebrating the loveliest of holidays and the loveliest of pastimes, reading! Here, then, be my entry for the I ♥ Books Blog Hop! 🙂
Valentine’s Day is not the only special February day in the Kauffman house. February 10 is a pretty special day, too. February 10 is the anniversary of my first date with Seymour an unbelievable five years ago. And February 16 is his birthday, so that’s another special day. I can hear you all now: What the heck does your first date have to do with Star Trek and Valentine’s Day, let alone books? Well, if you know us, or if you’ve been reading my rambling scribblings here for long enough, you’ll know that it was Star Trek that brought Seymour and me together (among other things, like small-town curiosity (okay, fine, small-town nosiness)).
Lately I’ve been working. A lot. I’ve been working a lot at work (Ooh, hello, tax season!). I’ve been working a lot at home, too (the laundry never. ends.), both on house-type stuff and writing-type stuff. I have my work cut out for me on the last chapter I wrote; the last third of it needs some serious help. But that will have to wait.
I’ve also been having some fun. With what, you ask? Well, I’ve been messing about on Pinterest quite a lot lately. You can find boards depicting Lokana, the surrounding area, and the people who live there. You can also find a few laughs, if you’re so inclined, and maybe a little writerly inspiration.
I’ve also rekindled my photography habit. Or rather, my photo-editing habit. Behold, the fruits of my labor. . .behind the cut!
A rose by any other name would smell as sweet. (Photo credit: alice_ling)
The rose she has gone back to Nature
Her petals on the grass by her mother tree lay
But memories of her blooming in the sunshine
With me till my own end will stay.“The Rose,” by Francis Duggan
I hopped on the Alliance thread this morning and found the above waiting for me with a belated birthday wish from the Dreamcatcher. It’s a lovely little poem; you can follow the link to read the rest of it. A quick Google search revealed that Mr. Duggan is quite prolific and that a lot of his work is available online. The site I linked to above had nearly 500 pages of his work alone, possibly more.
So what’s new? I’ve been rubbish at posting since the new year struck. I’ve been struggling to get into a routine – any routine – this year and I’ve had some other things weighing me down as well. Hopefully I’ll have all that unpleasantness resolved soon and I can start making progress on the rest of my goals for the year.
Speaking of goals for the year, I’ve passed 40k on my sequel.
Suddenly they all died. The end. 