December 30th, 2005 -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 07:45 am - Fencing Trying to be Positive about changes needed Since the concensus is that my last post was overwhelmingly negative, this is my attempt to restate it in a more positive light and hopefully find some structure that allows me to assign a value to an intangible so I can measure progress. To practice for maintenance: (1) Lunges (2) Advance - practice varying the steps (3) Forward jump (4) Retreat normally (5) Retreat, crossing legs and getting back quickly (6) Jump back and forth at all possible opportunities. Foot flat on floor. Don't land on toes. Skills that need minor tweaking: (1) Touching the sleeve (top or bottom) -- Need to practice this with a target and learn to step back quickly to avoid the opponent's blade. (2) Simultaneous Attacks -- anticipate and respond -- take the opponent's blade, avoid a taking of the blade, and learn to jump back, parry, and riposte or just overall get out of the rut of SAs. (a) Mix it up -- change the pace, take the blade, put in a little showmanship for the director (b) Throw in a backwards jump occasionally and parry-riposte or just attack if the opponent finished. (3) Engarde - get the positioning exactly right - just because. Skills to add before March: (1) Extend the arm. All the way out there. Shoulder relaxed. (2) [In my best Obe One voice] Use the WRIST, Luke! (a) Practice using the wrist to manuever. (b) Practice using the FINGERS to make those cute little circles. Tighter. Wide circles are easy to defeat. (3) Improve the parry 2 and learn to riposte from it. (4) Improve parry 3 - get it further away from the body. Just a little. (5) Improve parry 4 - Position the cutting edge to take the force of the blow (6) Improve parry 5 (a) Practice the position standing still (b) Practice the position with a backwards step upon taking the parry to avoid being hit when the opponent leaves that blade out there. (c) Practice the position with a backwards jump upon taking the parry. Same as above. (7) Practice flunges. There are many, many more skills I want to add but this is what I can realistically anticipate improving before the next NAC in March. === December 7th, 2005 -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 05:29 am - If I Should Become A Carrot Don't panic. This is traditional for me. Periodically.... or just whenever I'm about to embark on a long trip by air or car... I will make a public statement to the effect that I do not want to be kept alive through artificial means. I watched my grandmother suffer for years while her body was kept alive long after her mind was gone. Thus.... If I should be in an accident which leaves me in a state such that the majority opinion is that recovery is impossible and I have the brain waves of a carrot, then please turn the damn machine off. I am more afraid of the body being kept alive on life support than I am of dying. Mind you, I don't want to die, but I also don't want to be stuck here past the time of departure. Greg knows and my kids know, but there's always the possibility that some do-gooder will step in and block an effort to turn off the machine. This statement essentially serves as a very public document that should convince any sentinent judge that I'm quite certain of this. I do not want my life to be artificially substained past the point of hope. Just turn the machine off and let me go. Clear? === December 1st, 2005 -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 03:13 pm - Punishing myself I recognize the symptoms from years ago, when I was punishing myself for being a bad woman who couldn't make her marriage work and who failed miserably in upholding family values. This was not, of course, done consciously nor am I consciously punishing myself for failing to rescue Mother from herself. But I'm doing the same thing. I recognize the pattern. I see myself making stupid and careless mistakes and laughing too loudly, speaking inappropriately, and sabotaging myself in just about everything that matters to me. It's one thing to recognize it mentally; it's quite another thing to put a stop to the subconscious sabotaging. I'm working on it. It's particularly difficult seeing Mother every day, listening to her concerns, and LYING to her because that's what everyone says is the best thing to do. ==== November 25th, 2005 -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 09:00 am - Defining Fun After reading replies to my last post, I'm now asking myself, "What IS fun?" According to most dictionary definitions: fun is an activity that is enjoyable or amusing. A source of enjoyment, amusement, or pleasure. Enjoyment; amusement: have fun at the beach. Playful, often noisy, activity. For myself: Some parts of my work are fun, but this does not mean that all work is fun. Cutting the grass is not something I would necessarily define as fun but I get a great sense of enjoyment from HAVING CUT the grass. Thus, it's fun after I put the tractor away to look around at what I've accomplished. I do not get that same feeling of satisfaction from shoveling snow. I hate shoveling snow and derive no satisfaction whatsoever from seeing a freshly shoveled driveway or sidewalk. Nada. Thus, cutting grass and shoveling snow may require similar types of action but do not lead to similar feelings. Fencing is frustrating, difficult to learn, requires boring drills be repeated again and again and again for ages until it sinks in, and yet it's fun in a different way from cutting the grass. It's not the accomplishment, but the acquisition of the skill and the implementation of that skill in a bout that are fun. Writing is much like grass cutting for me as I do not enjoy the process but I love it when it finally comes together. On rare occasions, some part of me takes over and things flow and that is both exhausting and fun. Does any of this make sense? I've never seen my mother laugh. I've never seen her eyes sparkle. The closest thing I've seen to joy is when she acquires some material object that she wants. This worries me. I keep hearing Madonna's "Material Girl" play in my mind. (1 comment | Leave a comment) 10:06 am - The Quest for Bookcases Specifically, the quest for Arthur Brown Frame Oak bookcases. I've found a store at 200 Biggs Blvd, Harrison, OH that has bookcases that appear to be the closest match possible to the ones I had purchased 5 years ago, before Kittles stopped carrying Thornwood manufactured bookcases. Our goal today is to drive there, buy bookcases, go shopping, and return in time to meet my son, his wife, and the grandaughter for dinner. If things get really crazy, I might even rent a U-Haul one-way and drive back with 5 bookcases. At the very least, it's going to be hectic. And tomorrow is a local tournament. There wasn't enough time to post the news, so we're expecting 15 people at a D-1 or possibly a C-1 USFA sanctioned tournament. Greg is supposed to tape this. (Leave a comment) 10:09 pm - 6 weeks of uncertainty Five bookcases have been ordered. The style matches. The finish is questionable. The finish in the store was absolutely darker so a lighter finish has been ordered and no, there were no examples present. So I'll find out in 6 weeks of the bookcases will have a finish that matches the existing bookcases. I have one wall of bookcases that needs just one more bookcase to be complete. This is the one where I very much want the finish to match. The other four bookcases will be arranged such that a slight variation won't really matter. ==== November 24th, 2005 -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 08:01 am - A Life Without Fun My sister and I took Mother to a new doctor Monday because (1) she had been looking worse lately and (2) we want a second opinion about the source of her symptoms. Is she really in the early stages of Alzheimer's? Why did she become ill so suddenly and then improve after she started drugs? During the course of standard questions asked, one of the questions led to my Mother stating, "Oh, I don't have fun. I'm just not made that way." And Mother waved her hand dismissingly, giving no doubt what she thought about people who did fun things. ( More discussion about Mother avoiding fun ) The worst thing about all this is that she taught her three daughters not to have fun. ( More stuff about how nothing was supposed to be fun ) I have a bad attitude about many things and helping Mother through this illness has pointed me to the source of many of these attitudes. I can easily see the source of many of my life-long fears and deeply ingrained attitudes and I am struggling to toss many of these out of my life. I started fencing for many reasons but only rarely have I ever admitted -- even to myself -- that it's fun. Fun, after all, is forbidden. One must always justify one's habits and behavior with words that avoid that particular three-letter word. I fence because it's interesting and challenging and it reduces my stress level and is a great form of exercise. Fun? How dare I even think of doing something for fun? Imagine you're hearing the sound of a toilet flushing. That is the sound fo an attitude being flushed away. It may take some time to get all the attitude down that drain as it's a seldom used one that often backs up and dumps sewage all over the nicely cleaned area. However, I am trying very, very hard to learn to use the F word. Fencing is fun. It is challenging. It is a good form of exercise. Above everything else, however, it is eventually FUN. Now I need to find a few more things in my life that are fun. === November 15th, 2005 -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 07:33 pm - SFWA Musketeer I am a SFWA Musketeer. Really. We are members of SFWA who enjoy fencing and do not hold any official status within SFWA. We do, however, proudly wear the SFWA insignia upon our uniforms and we give presentations on rare occasions at conventions. I fenced with the other members for the first time Sunday and it's all about performance and making everyone else look good versus competing and winning. Free fencing means I can do many things that I cannot do during fencing competitions and dress up in a costume, too. However, it also means I need a different pair of boots because mine buckled when I went forward and right and my right foot twisted badly. It's still swollen. I note proudly that I got right back up, finished fencing and continued without anyone in the audience being aware that my foot was swelling inside my boot. The foot no longer hurts and the bruise is fading. I'm going to need to keep it light on footwork for about a week and then I should be back to normal. One exception to that: Greg recorded everything and I saw myself fencing for the first time in months. Coach is right. My advances are too big. I'm half-lunging with every forward step. I shall work on smaller steps while my foot is healing. Greg thought I looked flashier than he remembered ever seeing me before. Naturally. It was a DEMONSTRATION. I had fun. In some ways it was more fun than a competition, but I think that's largely because I'm not a good fencer yet and because I was fencing with people I know. I don't know many other fencers. Yet. == November 1st, 2005 -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 07:37 pm - The Unsupportive Husband My husband's idea of being supportive is to get out of my way whenever I attempt something. If I am depressed or frustrated, he feels that distance is the best response for this situation as well. As you might expect, distance is not what I need while dealing with the mother crisis and advising him of this leaves him rather mystified. What is he supposed to do. Be supportive. Okay. He schedules a trip to be out of my way. ARGH!!! I am glad that we have affectionate cats as there are times I need to wrap my arms around someone and if I did that to the husband now, I fear I would be wrapping my hands around his neck so I could shake him. It's not just that he doesn't know what to do; it's also that when I give him explicit instructions, he does it badly. Think Bill Cosby in the Chocolate Cake for Breakfast monologue. That badly. So badly that I am reminded that it's actually BETTER when he gives me distance because then I can't reach out and throttle him. So I occasionally sit down and type out my frustration. I love my husband. Really, I do. But is it possible to buy some add-on devide that I could hook up like a USB hub to allow me to connect an supportive feature? == October 20th, 2005 -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 02:03 pm - Discrimination - with tongue firmly planted in cheek It was recently bought to my attention that there is massive discrimination against white males. As evidence of this, it was pointed out to me that there are many scholarship programs for blacks and females, and none explicitly for white males. More, there are abuse shelters for women, but no abuse shelters for males. Further, there are Title X requirements to provide comparable sports for girls but not similar program for males. Obviously white males are discriminated against. I considered this and immediately realized that an even greater injustice has occurred: Our country discriminates against rich people. All government food stamp and other programs have income guidelines, preventing rich people from benefitting. Many scholarships are offered with income restrictions but none with income requirements that require the recipient (and/or his/her parents) earn at least a certain amount. Subsidized housing is available only for those with income below a given level. Paris Hilton would never qualify for subsidized housing. How discriminatory! Many job training programs are available for low income people, but nothing is available for that unfortunate rich person who had nothing to do with his free time except lounge around at the country club. Many hospitals and clinics offer free or reduced cost services to those below a given income guideline but the rich have to pay for every penny of their health care costs with their own funds. How unfair! This great country was founded upon the principle that all men were created equal. Why are we discriminating against those who have achieve economic success and denied them equallity in some of these important areas? It's time to end this horrible discrimination against the rich and offer them some of the same benefits extended to the poor. Need scholarships for rich kids. Only those with income levels above $500K yearly need apply. === October 13th, 2005 -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 09:46 pm - So what do I do with this? We divided some of the stuff in Mother's house and I got the genealogy-related stuff to sort through, use in web pages about the family, scan, etc. There are some self-published books (if you can call pages in a binder a book) and the information in these is either (1) redundant, (2) does not pertain to our branch of the family tree, and/or (3) a general recounting by unrelated people who lived in the same area as our ancestors but don't mention them. So what do I do with these things? From earlier conversations, I know they're important to Mother but there's scrap paper as far as I'm concerned. ==== October 11th, 2005 -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 07:15 am - I feel better now I spent most of my so-called day off work Monday cleaning out my house and I feel much, much, better for it. The family room, eating area, and kitchen are all open so evey the slightest clutter hits me right between the eyes when I walk in the door at night. It's still cluttered, but it's a cleaner and sparser clutter than it was before. That's the good news. The bad news is that I'm basically pushing the clutter back. It's now out of the family room, dining room, kitchen and in the remaining two rooms of the first floor. And I still haven't figured out how to rearrange all the prints and pictures and have them fit on the available wall space. The family room is what most people would call "too busy" and I really would like to have a little less in that room. Still, it's off the floor and that's my first requirement. (Leave a comment) 12:13 pm - My family tree is a nut-bearing tree Mother talked about some ancestor - John the Prophet - making predictions which came to pass, etc. and while at first I thought this was an additonal Mother-problem, I later found references to John the Prophet http://smithdray.tripod.com/or/johnhendrixdetails.htm I am delighted to note that he is not a direct line ancestor. === September 29th, 2005 -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 05:09 am - Cleaning up the office My office looks worse now that I've started cleaning it. I wonder if this is normal or some reflection of my own disorganization. Today, my middle sister returns to Florida and I get a partial day of rest. Actually, I'm spending the day catching up as much as possible on some of the things I've neglected and I'm also picking up stuff at Mother's house to take to Goodwill and/or to Mother at Sunrise. I woke at 3am and started throwing stuff into a trash bag, moving books from one shelf to another, stacking stuff in various piles on the floor, etc. It's a mess. The only true solution is to have less in a room that is already filled and overflowing and having less means parting with things that cost far too much money to discard. I'm going to discard them anyway. (Leave a comment) 04:20 pm - Throwing it away Today, I threw my billfold with credit cards, cash, and other important documents into the trash. Actually, I probably threw it in last night but today was trash pickup day. Explicitly, I picked up my food at Applebe's and put it on the car seat, signed the bill, put my credit card back into the billfold, and tossed my billfold onto the seat. Figure it out yet? I took the bag to Mother's and ate the hamburger without taking anything out of the bag. I then tossed the bag into the trash. No, I did not notice it was any heavier than usual since I hadn't finished the onion peels, etc. Damn and double damn. === September 27th, 2005 -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 07:11 pm - Finding a treasure among the trash While inventorying and boxing up the contents of Mother's house, I discovered something I actually wanted: A table and chairs that I hadn't known existed. Years ago, my mother had one of those cheap, particle board tables over which she put a fancy tablecloth and then she'd covered it with decorative stuff. Sometime -- without me being aware of it -- she had replaced this with a REAL, solid oak table of approx. the same size and two matching high back chairs. I would need to have the table and chairs finished and the ugly gold seat cushions recovered. No, I will not even consider attempting this myself. Even if I had the time, I would not want to attempt this as a learning project. This is not something I would bid upon at an auction nor would I want to buy it at a store; however, it's in my mother's house and I could take it and spend more than a new dining room set would cost to have it refinished. Is this really a wise thing to do? The rule of thumb in this household is that if I do this, I have to keep it forever. I cannot decide later that it's not my style and acquire something else. I cannot fall in love somewhere with the perfect breakfast area-sized table and chairs and replace this with the one I truly love. And I have to take very, very good care of it so that it passes intact to my heirs. I've never been very good about taking care of furniture. In fact, I have a bit of a reputation for ruining furniture. Is this really a wise thing to do and esp. so since I haven't a clue when/where/how Mother acquired this furniture? Decisions, decisions.... ==== September 23rd, 2005 -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 06:59 pm - Mother's House, Episode 2, Return of the Daughters Today is my day one of working on Mother's house with Jo on the road from Florida to Indiana and scheduled to arrive at Mother's house well after dark. I left just a few minutes ago after clearing a path through the house and then cluttering part of it again. I feel very much like a thief. If Mother had died, clearing out her house would be an act of closure. With her in an ALF (Assisted Living Facility), we need to clear out the house and rent it and here we are, going in and taking whatever we want without any regard to Mother's wishes. Why aren't we consulting her? Because she believes she's going home any day now and that she does not have Alzheimer's. Denial is a state slightly East on the Z plane from Indianapolis. Turn left at the Daylight Savings Time change and bear a hard right immediately thereafter into the one-way street that leads to Insanity. Do not pass go. Do not collect $200. Medicine is keeping Mother from being delusional and paranoid, but it's not -- unfornately -- helping her reasoning ability. She thinks we daughters are paying for her stay at the ALF. She thinks we should be able to hire someone to stay with her at home although we might have to pay as much as $100. per week. [Yes, those are the right number of zeroes after the one.] She cannot understand why we think anything is wrong with her and she says this quite frequently because she does not remember having said it to us earlier. She thinks she can still drive and is looking forward to getting back into her car again. Sigh! Knowing that I shouldn't feel like a thief in the night doesn't help. I still feel like I am stealing. ==== September 16th, 2005 -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 09:06 am - My second-hand iMac Last night, we set up Mother's iMac at my desk and changed the name to mine. It felt odd seeing Irene's computer and it felt awful changing the name. This is one more nail in the coffin. One more action that confirms Mother will never return. She will remain in an institution of some kind for the rest of her life unless there is a miracle cure. But we're still planning to rent her home, not sell it. == September 2nd, 2005 -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 06:26 pm - Trading Spaces in Assisted Living Facilities So today we moved Mother from the lock-down area to the second floor without the assistance of any of the reality show makeover people and still managed to get the job done. We spent three evenings in preparation for this event and we did have a few minor problems. I arrived and walked into the facility to find Mother sitting next to the reception desk, obviously waiting. The bus hadn't left yet for their daily ride. Sigh! I talked quickly to the person at the desk and then lied to Mother. "I've been paged and have to go back to work but I remembered to bring the purse you wanted. Oops. I left it in the car. I'll be right back." Carolyn wasn't there yet so I huried back in and Mother wanted me to take the old purse back but she'd exchange stuff from old to new first. And then Carolyn walked in. "Oh, what a pleasant surprise, but the van is leaving in a few minutes." "Go ahead," Carolyn said. "I'll come back." We slipped back out the door and waited for the van to leave. And we waited. And waited. We finally called and had someone unlock the side door and then Carolyn, her husband, and I unloaded the dresser and the end table. We managed to get this inside and up the stairs. Carolyn's husband helped unload the two items and then we went back down where he was going to head home while we fixed up the room. The furniture truck arrived with the newly purchased bed frame, mastress and box springs, and the chair. We went back up with the chair while they unloaded the mastress and box springs and then back down again. By NOW, the van had finally left. Carolyn set up the bed and the quilt hanging while I made a few trips with the cart to bring in the items for the walls. Suffice to say I had brought more than we could use (but not disasterously so) and Mother returned from the van ride before we were finished. The staff diverted her and moved items down from the third floor to her new room and then we were ready for the bit moment. Carolyn and I feared an explosion and angry words about wanting to go home and did this mean she was stuck here forever? Instead, she was HAPPY to see a piece of home. The chair (covered with a sheet, just like the one at home) and the table and lamp (an important and fragile item, that lamp) were her comfort zone so it wasn't home but it was still enough of home to make her happy. Carolyn and I are exhausted and we're planning to put in a full weekend at Mother's house, moving stuff from the basement, etc. === August 4th, 2005 -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 11:04 pm - Visiting Mother on the 4th I visited shortly after work and confimed what my sister had said: Mother doesn't remember anything from the time she became ill (for lack of a better phrase) and sometime during her stay at the hospital. Mother is still depressed, confused, and her short term memory reminds me of a few scenes with Ivan from Lois McMaster Bujold's book, Memory. However, she did say she was tired of all this unpleasant news and needed to hear something positive. Thus, I pointed at the door and said, THOSE people out there will never be going home; you are improving. I think Mother was the inspiration for the saying: Lord, give me patience RIGHT NOW!!!! === August 3rd, 2005 -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 03:21 pm - Yesterday... Yesterday, I was supposed to leave for Scotland. Today, I am supposed to be in Glasgow, having fun and meeting people. Instead, I am at home, working late, and trying to figure out how to explain to Mother that we cannot take care of her the way she took care of her mother and mother-in-law because they were physically ill and she is physically strong and fighting us every step of the way. Mother cannot admit her brain has betrayed her. It's far easier to believe the world is conspiring against her. Yes, my sister and I conspired to do this and forfeit our vacations and plans just to imprison Mother for no good reason. ==== July 24th, 2005 -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 05:54 pm - The work begins Today was day 1 of tackling my mother's decades of accumulation in her house. The adventure began with the great outdoors. After Father died, Mother began putting flower beds in random locations around the yard. Unfortuantely she couldn't keep up with weeding the beds so when she became frustrated with this, she simply started another flower bed. No weed block was laid, although she did put down some plastic bags in a few places before sprinkling dirt and mulch over them. The three of us filled the wheelbarrow several times with pulled weeds and got through about 3/4th of the main flowerbed and one additional flowerbed before it was too hot to continue. At that point, we proceeded to the basement and began work in one of the finished rooms. The objective: Go through all the books and magazines to insure she hadn't put anything between the pages and separate the genealogy from the quilt books and magazines from the knitting books and magazines from the other crafts and magazines. By 4pm, we had finished most of this task and taken several wheelbarrow loads of undesirables to a burn pile. Note that when I dumped one stack of magazines into the plastic wastebasket, spores of mildew rose high enough and thick enough to be detected by the naked eye. I'm profoundly allergic to mold and mildew. Eleven adults and one child of a helpful age worked on the finished room and one tiny corner of the unfinished part of the basement to sort through magazines, books, trunks, sealed boxes, rubbermaid containers, etc. to sort trash from treasure. Well, actually... there was no treasure to be found. We sorted trash from stuff-that-people-might-buy-at-an-auction. We also filled a truck with things that needed to go to a landfill. For example, Mother had two failed microwaves and when they failed, she simply moved them to the garage because you can't put them out for trash pickup. Those and a few other failed items are going to a landfill tomorrow. I am thoroughly and completely exhausted. We start at 9am again tomorrow, working with fewer people to try to toss out decades of accumulation that should not be saved. When we last looked around the basement, we figured that if all of us quit our jobs and did nothing but work on the house during all our waking hours, we might finish in a month. Maybe. I will fall asleep tonight muttering, "less is more." === July 22nd, 2005 -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 03:57 pm - A trip down Mother's memory lane For the third visit in a row, Mother was mostly rational. She did not stop to talk to anyone who was not there while we were there. It was great seeing her own personality back in her body again. However, I must comment upon part of the long trip she took down memory lane. Mother used to shine father's shoes every week, iron his shirts and ties, sew his shirts so they fit better, and a hundred other little tasks that women assumed were part of their s/l/a/v/e/ wifely duties back in the fifties and sixties. Times have changed. And thank goodness they have! ==== July 9th, 2005 -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 03:40 am - Afraid of my own mother I woke up from some misremembered dream gasping for breath and feeling that I was being smothered. I had to get out of bed and stumble down the hallway to clear my mind and I slowly realized that the dream I dimly remembered involved Mother killing me. It's not just that I don't want to stay in my old bedroom at night with Mother because I don't want the inconveniences or because I don't want to miss a few hours of work each time I do this; I am afraid of Mother. I fear the voices in her head will tell her that I am not her daughter, but someone else and that she should kill me while I sleep. Mother looks and is as strong as a very healthy sixty-year-old woman and she's always been stronger than me. Getting the guns out of the house isn't sufficient to make me feel comfortable sleeping there. I am afraid she will still injure or kill me. I think part of me knew this and gave me a dream about being smother by my mother to make me fully aware just how much I fear her. Then again, it may just be my allergies reacting to returning home from California to Indiana weather. Please don't let me be coming down with a cold. I cannot afford to have a cold right now. My right nostril is shutting down. Oh, DAMN! It's probably allergies and it's probably going to last for a good long time. I spent part of yesterday in Mother's house, cleaning. That place is full of allergens. ==== June 26th, 2005 -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 09:46 pm - Scotland My trip to Scotland is cancelled, due to my Mother's health. To say I am disappointed is an understatement. However, Scotland will be there for years to come and I cannot say the same about my mother. ==== May 28th, 2005 -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 11:05 am - Volunteeering I have volunteered to go to the UK, New Zealand, Australia, Saudia Arabia, and Kuwait. No, I have not been eating or drinking anything odd. The first three are because I'd love a chance to see the country (assuming I'd get a chance) and the last two are from a sense of duty. I don't know if I'll actually be selected to go anywhere. Greg is not thrilled with the idea of Kuwait. (Leave a comment) 11:37 am - Knitting my way to Scotland I've been advised it would be a good idea to take a sweater with me and I don't own a sweater. Thus, I've decided to dust off the knitting needles and start a poncho (because I can make that faster than a sweater). Thus far, I've cast on 370 stitches on round needles size 10. Row 1: *K 2, [seed stitch] **k1, p1 (repeat from ** for a total of 83 stitches worked in seed stitch) [cable section] k1, p2, k9, p2, k1, repeat seed stitch patter for 83 stitches, k2, repeat from * one more time. Row 2: K2, [seed stitch] k the k stitches and p the p stitches] Row 3: k2, [seed stitch] p the k stitches and k the p stitches for a total of 83 stitches. [cable stitch] k1, p2, slip 3 stitches to dp needle and hold in front, knit 3 stitches, k 3 stitches from dp needle, k3 stitches, p2, k1, repeat seed stitch, k4, repeat seed stitch, repeat cable stitch, repeat seed stitch, k2. Row 4: Repeat row 2. Row 5: Repeat row 1. Row 6: Repeat row 2. Row 7: Repeat row 3 except for cable stitch. Here, k3, slip 3 to dp needle and hold in BACK, k3, k slipped stitches. Row 8: repeat row 2. Repeat above 8 rows while working decreased on each cable row in which you hold the first three stitches in front. Decrease row: K1, s1 knit next stitch, pull slipped stitch over. Continue seed stitch until one stitch before 1st stitch of cable pattern. Knit two stitches together. P2, slip 3 stitches to holder in front of knitting, k3, k3 from holder, k3, p 2, slip next stitch, k1, slip stitch over knitted stitch. Continue with seed stitch until 1 stitch before end of seed stitch and k2 together, k1. Repeat. Addendum: As of May 31st, I have gone through my first skein of yarn. At this rate, the pouncho could be finished by late June. ==== May 24th, 2005 -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 02:50 pm - Changes Am I morphing, evolving or devolving? Is fencing changing me or did I embrace fencing because I was changing? Besides the not-so-obvious-to-others physical changes such as improved coordination, I've noticed some major attitude changes. I have more self-confidence and I'm much more selfish. Instead of sitting in the dark, eating the bread crusts while everyone else has steak (an analogy, not a real life example) I'm expecting equality. If people thought I was a feminist before, they're going to think I'm a feminazi now because I really and truly won't tolerate any suggestions that I accept less in anything. Why should I? Or any woman? And this crap about not allowing women in combat is pure BS mouthed by people who are just plain scared to accept the possibility that women might be able to do the job. It's easier to simply ban women from certain possibilities than allow them to compete and risk the possibility that maybe they'll succeed. Didn't we once try this same thing with other races? Blacks couldn't possibly serve alongside whites? The more the world changes, the less it changes. ==== May 19th, 2005 -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 05:28 pm - Rant of the Small Breasted Woman Why oh why did I spend so many days, week, months, years of my youth bemoaning the lack of large breasts? I know that society dictates that anything less than a 34C is unacceptable and women with such small breasts should just shoot themselves (unless, of course they are 5'8" or more and then they can become models... but only as long as they're 105 pounds or less); but why did I let myself be suckered into low self-esteem based upon the fact that some misguided men preferred women with large breasts? I love my body the way it is. I am streamlined. I am a greyhound. I am designed for moving quickly and efficiently and I love being the way I am and wouldn't trade it for naturally large breasts if you paid me. I can fold my arms across my chest without difficulty. I can buy a cheap sports bra and shorts and need nothing else to work out at the gym comfortably without drawing undue attention. I can run without discomfort. Why didn't I recognize and appreciate this freedom when I was younger and upset that all the jerks were attracted to women with large breasts? Why? I'd like a time machine, please, so I can go back and talk some sense into my younger self. === May 6th, 2005 -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 08:07 am - Day Five Post-Nebula Weekend I note with some mild amusement that the post-Nebula weekend headache disappeared once I began fencing Wednesday night and returned after I left. By Thursday, the headache is almost gone. It's like an uninvited guest who has fallen asleep and I do not want to wake the headache. The stomach upset is also mostly gone and I've decided that part of the problem is diet. I've been eating peanuts for quick protein and that's not a good idea since I have acid reflux. Last night, I grabbed a Subway tuna sandwich and my stomach thanked me for it. Fencing Wednesday and Thursday was mostly unremarkable. I'm happy that I'm at a place where I'm no longer terrible and annoyed that I'm not yet good. My biggest hurdle remains "The Rules". If I could just recognize right-of-way while fencing and train myself NOT to lunge forward when someone else has the right-of-way, I'd be doing much, much better. After Purdue, I thought I was starting to get it. I think what's happening now is that I see an ice cube floating in the water and only see the part that's floating. There's much, much more beneath the water line and I desperately need to learn to recognize this before July. The next major decision I face is whether or not to stay over in Sacramento to fence in Division III. Of course, this is dependent upon me going to South Bend Sunday (Mother's Day) to fence in the division qualifier and succeeding. I'm leaning towards fencing because... well... I guess a fencing competition within driving distance is much like a red flag waved at the bull. I've got to charge over there. (Leave a comment) 01:53 pm - Can Someone Please Explain This? Quoting from elsewhere: MILWAUKEE -- A WISN 12 News investigation has discovered that a Milwaukee-area pharmacist has refused to fill prescriptions for women citing religious reasons. End Quote. Proposing an Alternative Scenario: Indianapolis -- a WISH 13 News investigation has discovered that an Indianapolis-area waitress has refused to fill orders that include meat, citing religious reasons. End Alternative Scenario. Please explain to me why the pharamist is a brave person standing up for his/her religious beliefs and the company (Walgreen) and why somone refusing to fill meat orders would be labeled a kook. Walgreens is standing behind those employees who refuse to fill birth control pill prescriptions while I'm fairly certain a restaurant would fire a vegetarian who refused to fill orders which included meat. Why? (2 comments | Leave a comment) 09:56 pm - Don't Marry the Village Idiot A couple of years ago, I realized that everything bad that had ever happened in my life flowed from one fatal decision made during my teenage years: I married the village idiot. To help steer others away from making this same mistake, I'll give you five easy ways to recognize that the guy you're dating is a village idiot: 1. He sincerely tells you that he could never be happy without you. Think about this one for a few minutes. What kind of guy really and truly believes that happiness is bestowed upon him by someone else? An idiot! It's possible the guy is lying or just trying to sound romantic, but if you pick up clues that he really and truly expects you to wiggle your nose and make him happy, run like hell. 2. The village idiot loves it when people pay attention to him. Thus, if your new love offers to fix your sticky door during your parents' silver anniversary party while the entire family is there, run like hell. This is someone who wants to do good things only when he has an audience. What kind of person does this? Come on. You know the answer. An idiot! 3. One of the key clues that someone is a village idiot is that he doesn't recognize that he's incompetent in an area. I've learned over the years that if someone boasts about himself, it's probably beause he has to since no one else is ever going to say anything positive about him. When the only person saying he's got a wonderful voice is the speaker, cover your ears when he starts singing. What kind of person is so clueless that he doesn't even recognize his own areas of shortcoming and actually thinks he's good in those areas? An idiot! 4. The surest sign that you're dating a village idiot is when he says something to the effect of: I don't want you to do what you say you want to do because they I'll lose you. This could include such things as going to college, accepting a promotion, or even just going off on an all-girls vacation. Who tries to tie someone to them by making them give up everything they value? An idiot! 5. The one thing that every idiot eventually does is try to isolate his /v/i/c/t/i/m/ true love from friends and family. If your loved one says that other people talk badly about you when you're not around and that they don't appreciate you the way he does and that they're trying to drive a wedge between the two of you because they're jealous or don't like him, run like hell. He's an idiot! I'm tired and I'm going to bed in a few minutes, content with the knowledge that I was a damned fool once but I've learned since then and haven't repeated my earlier mistakes. There is no guarantee that giving someone an IQ test on the first date will weed out the idiots but then again, it woulddoes tend to filter out the worst of the village idiots. Just remember that village idiots are everywhere and now that we have bigger villages, we have even bigger idiots. Toss them a few tokens and slip quietly away before they notice you. You do not want one of them dancing around after you, playing mind tricks and trying to get you to join their ranks. ===== May 2nd, 2005 -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 05:06 am - Nebula weekend First, take a look at http://www.midamericon.org/photoarchive/05neb01.htm to find wonderful photos that we did NOT take at the Nebulas. Greg took many pictures but ours are not yet available. We arrived in Chicago about 11 PM Thursday. I'd wanted to leave earlier but life intervened and thus I arrived somewhat exhausted and checked my printout of the web site to verify what time we needed to up to take the Argonne / Fermilab tour the following morning. 7am. What????? I repeated this to Greg. He asked if I had already paid for the tour. I concurred. He groaned. I had no trouble rousing myself early to be ready for the trip, but waking Greg was a more challenging adventure. We finally made it to the curb at 645am (the time I'd been told) and discovered the bus hadn't yet arrived. A few minutes later, we boarded. The SFWA liaison for the tour group had assumed we'd get a late start, encounter the usual Chicago traffic jams, and arrive about 9AM. We departed promptly at 7 and arrived at the security gate at 7:30. The tour guide was duly summoned and caught up with us about 8 AM. So we got a very early start and were able to see more of Argonne than we otherwise might have seen. The following is courtesy of my husband: The public tour of Argonne was primarily oriented toward showing lots of very nice and carefully researched scale models; with our group, that occupied about an hour, and we were anxious to see the real stuff. We got a good look at the APS building (Advanced Photon Source, which pumps out 7 GeV X-rays) and many of the experiment setups inside the ring. Then, on to the ATLAS linear accelerator, and its miles of cryogenic piping (LHe dewars everywhere!) terminating in the Gammasphere, an innocuous aluminum sphere surrounded by the world's most sensitive gamma ray detector. The control panel operator took advantage of some beam downtime to tweak the control magnets and show us how the focus changed. We had an excellent buffet lunch (government cafeterias everywhere could learn from the Argonne kitchen) and departed for Fermilab right on time. Most of the lab is in fact underground; when approaching, all you can see from a distance is trees and the Wilson building. Designed by Fermilab's original director, this magnificent edifice dominates the landscape. 16 stories high, it looks out over the entire accelerator complex and even sports a Foucault pendulum hanging from the distant ceiling. Because the Tevatron was in operation, we didn't get to go into the tunnels, but there were many mockups of the hardware out on display for the public and lots of physicists around to answer questions. We looked in on the main control room and peeked through a Faraday cage at the particle source -- a Cockroft-Walton accelerator operating at a mere 175 kV and looking like it came straight out of the Krell laboratory. Fermilab is physics on a grand scale; huge, architecturally breathtaking, and modern without looking bare. End of quotes from Greg. Back to my viewpoint. We returned in plenty of time for the McCaffrey reception, where I switched to formal wear while Greg remained in blue jeans and t-shirt. We'd picked up our badges, meal tickets, and drink tickets and I promptly gave away my drink ticket to someone debating whether to have another slice of pizza or a beer. [I didn't want either.] Anne McCaffrey was presented with a cake to celebrate her newly acquired status of Grandmaster. The cake included a reproduction of one of her bookjacket covers so so it was a true masterpiece. McCaffrey herself cut the cake and served slices to all who showed up. There was a brief presentation, highlighted by a long-distance call to Jack Williamson on the occasion of his 97th birthday. He seemed quite bemused as 200 people sang "Happy Birthday" into the speakerphone. We talked to several people we hadn't seen in years and caught up on events. I stumbled into bed exhausted earlier than most. Saturday was the big day; I grabbed a quick and expensive breakfast at the hotel and went to panels from noon until 4pm. Greg and I grabbed sandwiches at a nearby restaurant and prepared for the dinner. Yes, Greg wore a suit. The dinner was surprisingly good and the awards ceremony itself was boring and anxious. Anne McCaffrey's family was there for the Nebula ceremony and her family covered her with thread. [Silly string.] The 30-year or more members were asked to come to the front of the room where a cake was prepared for SFWA in recognition of its founding by Damon Knight and some of the early members recalled how Anne had persuaded them to join. Unfortunately, I missed most of what was said on the podium, but I did manage to capture the geist of what Kevin O'Donnell later said during his acceptance of the Service to SFWA award. Don't accept bad contracts. Talk about it when things go wrong. He also noted that people would come to the grievance committee with problems and when asked why they didn't want to pursue a grievenace, would note that if they did, the person who hadn't paid them for the last story might never buy one from them again. Kevin noted this didn't make a great deal of sense. I sat there thinking of abused spouses returning to the abuser. Some of us authors do seem to be doing something similar, don't we? The Nebula Awards are already posted online so I'll merely mention that the presenters dragged out the agony as long as possible. Gene Wolfe said that he was told he wasn't allowed to make a speech, but he had the microphone. He they proceeded to tell a story about the beginning days of SFWA and his involvement while nominees sweated it out. Some of those who followed him repeated his act and you could see some of the nominees fading under the pressure. The awards list has already been posted online in numerous places, so I won't bother restating it and possibly making some kind of hideous typo. I will note that I went back to my room to store away the Bulletin and program before heading back to the reception area. Note that this means I used my room key. Remember that. It will be referenced later. Several of the awards were lying around on tables and thus I had a chance to observe several Nebulas closely -- a rare opportunity. We made small talk with several of the attendees while the celebrations trailed off toward normalcy; it was nice to have a chance to speak with people like Todd McCaffrey, Stan Schmidt, Janis Ian, Mike Resnick of course, and some old acquaintances like Joe Haldeman in a relaxed environment. Greg finally bailed out by around 1 AM, but I had fallen off the caffeine wagon and obtained a Diet Coke so I could fully enjoy the evening and I didn't feel the slightest bit tired. Thus, I was there until they shut down the suite and moved downstairs with Mike Resnick to talk business with David Hartwell, Diane T., and Toby B. At 4am (when I normally rise), the party broke up and I wandered off to the elevator. At the door, I discovered I had no key. A quick search of the purse revealed it was not there and I could not, of course, be carrying it in my back pocket as the dress had no pocket. I then went back to the lobby, where all the people who had been at the desk were no longer at the desk. Thus, I picked up the courtesy phone and called Greg. After several long rings, he finally answered and agreed to open the door when I returned. He was not thrilled about this and a little surprised at the time. I am still feeling very sleep deprived and suspect I will spend the rest of the week trying to emulate a sleep camel. [Sleep camels have humps in which they store sleep and when one goes a long time without sleep and depletes all the stored sleep, then one needs to oversleep to store sleep in the humps again.] I am tired, a few hundred dollars poorer, and happy. Next week, I fence on Sunday in the Division III qualifier. Sleep. Yes, I need sleep. ==== April 15th, 2005 -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 10:08 am - Spring Fever I've been slacking off lately and I think it's just spring fever. I don't want to be inside, doing the necessary chores. I want to be outside, digging in the dirt, planting something, and hauling a wheelbarrow load of stuff around the yard. I want soak up sunshine and warm air. After reaching home today, I cut the grass, moved some mulch, put down some weed block, planted two of the three hostas I'd recently purchased, and took electric hedge clippers to the giant christmas tree that someone decided to dump just over our property line. Once I had a sufficient amount of pricklies out of the way on the tree, I was able to give it a couple of good pushes so it rolled downhill and partway to the water. It's twin from last year is there and I am feeling decidedly unfriendly towards idiots who buy dead trees at Christmas and then dump them on someone else's property. What an lazy, inconsiderate thing to do! I also attacked the honeysuckle/poison ivy climbers behind the mini-barn. I think I managed to kill off the poison ivy last year, but the price paid was that I also killed about 90% of the honeysuckle. I'm keeping a close eye on it this year to insure the honeysuckle recovers and the poison ivy stays dead. I also managed to clean most of the downstairs. This means cleaning, not necessarily putting things away. We still have a mess from moving stuff around for the window installations but at least I've got most of the dust swept away and the grime off the floor. Saturday is a fencing competition at Purdue and I really don't feel up for it. I'm just not good enough to compete with these hot young college students. They're younger and they move faster. ==== April 10th, 2005 -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 08:10 pm - Strange Brew Click on the WIBC link to see an article about smash and grabs with a picture of my daughter. She just bought the coffee shop and it there's been a series of robberies in the area. === April 2nd, 2005 -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 10:05 am - Preparing for Scotland Although I've been planning a trip to Scotland for years, it's never really felt real to me. After all, the last planned trip was cancelled when we lost our jobs and I'd figured this one wouldn't happen if I lost mine. However, I am still employed and they haven't outsourced Greg's job (knock on wood). At least, not yet. So Scotland looks like it's really going to happen and I find myself talking with Debbie (traveling companion) about the adventure. Current plans are to stay with her and to travel to the Menzies Castle in Perthshire and stay at a B&B there and then to Skye and a B&B. It's hard to believe this is really going to happen and yet I'm making plans so I guess it will. I've even made tentative plans to fence on Thursday night before the convention. Wow! I can't believe this is happening. It's just so... unreal. I haven't taken a vacation in decades and to travel to Scotland is just incredible. === April 1st, 2005 -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 02:41 pm - Quick, a gown for that Venus statue! I often drive down I65 going south and notice the yard art business that's visible from the interstate. While they have some interesting and undesirable (for me) yard art, I've never thought that any of it should be banned. Apparently, Bartholomew County, Indiana, officials feel differently because they told the business that it must move cement copies of various classical statues and some other statues away from public view. It seems they're obscene under Indiana law. Does this mean that if I buy a Venus di Milo statue and put it in my front lawn, I can be arrested for obscenity? I confess the idea is tempting but I'm too tight-fisted to spend real money for this and those statues are not cheap... or lightweight... and thus I'll pass on any act of civil disobedience. According to Frank Butler, the county's zoning inspector. They have nudity... and they should not be in the view of a minor. Officials allegedly took action after TWO (2) complaints from bypassers about the art. Personally, I've always found those Granny bendovers to be obnoxious and those ugly shadow things that people put in their yard COULD be nude. [It's difficult sometimes to tell if a shadow is nude or dressed.] Can we ban those instead, please. I like Venus di Milo and other Renaissance art. I don't like them so much that I'd want them in my front yard but I certainly don't have a problem with someone else putting such things in their yards. After all, if neighbors could have yard geese, toilets, bathtubs filled with flowers, shrines, holiday decorations (including the giant inflated Easter Bunny and Easter lights), why not a Venus? === March 30th, 2005 -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 05:26 pm - Is it safe yet? The vomitting has stopped, although the stomach is still complaining and the headache is mostly gone. I have not worked out for two days and I am preparing to head to fencing practice shortly. On a different topic, I'm a little confused about the referendes to a grammar and spelling checker built into word wherein one can check a manuscript's readability. I'm not finding it. Maybe I just need to finish recuperating and try again later. I can find a reference under options for checking for passive sentences but I can't find anything like the wonderful fog index I used to have in WordStar back in the late 80s. Oh, feh! Wait a minute. THERE it is. I just changed my settings and ran this on my current work in progress, a YA. I have 2% passive sentences and the writing is at the 4th grade level. I think that's pretty much on target. === March 29th, 2005 -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 06:08 am - Still in detox The vomitting has stopped -- I hope -- but I've still struggling to function despite a killer headache that feels much like someone hit my head with an iron frying pan. I will be late getting to work today. I will be ineffective. I may need to leave early. I want to just crawl into some dark corner and whimper until the pain goes away. I have a bad feeling that's not going to happen for a while. Tylenol is not working. Advil. Ibuprofen. I've tried them all. Nothing kills a caffeine withdrawal headache. Even drinking caffeine again wouldn't help at this point. The only thing I can do is ride it out and hope it's not a week-long ride like last time. ==== March 28th, 2005 -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 03:23 pm - Caffeine detox -- the saga continues I did not go to work today because I woke up at 2am with an uncontrollable urge to empty everything that was not in my stomach. Dry heaves. About 4 hours later, I tried some toast and it came up almost immediately again. At the present time, I cannot even smell food without wanting to vomit. I must remember this the next time I toy with the idea of drinking a Diet Coke. This is what withdrawal is like for me. ==== March 27th, 2005 -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 09:12 am - Where's the Betty Ford Clinic for Caffeine Addiction? I need to check in. I fell off the wagon a week ago and I'm now in the upset stomach, searing headache phase of slow withdrawal. I've gone cold turkey before with the vomitting and killer headache and I thought easing off would be easier. I was wrong. There is no way to avoid pain while weaning the body off this toxin. It's either incredible pain over a few days or bad pain over several days. I had 10 oz. of Diet Coke yesterday and I've still got a killer headache. I'm debating whether to finish the last 10 oz. today to take the edge off the pain or to just ride it out for the next five days of vomitting and suffering. I know what's coming. I've quit numerous times. I just wish I could convince myself to stop falling off the wagon because no temporary buzz, alertness, etc. is worth the aftereffect of this drug. And caffeine is a drug. I should stick with bottled water. === March 19th, 2005 -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 11:30 am - A rant about chain letters and gullible people Just how difficult is it to take a single sentence from a chain letter, put it into double quotes, and paste it into Google? Is this really too much to ask people to do before sending on a chain letter? Verify the rant they're posting is real? Once again, I have received an e-mail about how congresspeople are receiving millions in pension benefits and how we need to force congress to be on social security and then we'll see the changes we need. Sigh! Congressfolks elected since 1983 ARE on social security. Those hired prior to the cut-off date are on CSRS, which is a pension system. The average pension paid to congress critters is an outrageously high amount of about $60K per year. [Tongue planted firmly in cheek.] As a DoD employee, I get a little annoyed when I see such things as I'm on that same CSRS pension plan and I'm certainly not expecting to retire with a full paycheck for life. Are US taxpayers really this gullible or do they just hate the rich politicians so much that they're willing to believe anything they read about them? Or are they just too frigging lazy to Goggle before passing on misinformation? I think I'll start a new urban legend just for the fun of it. I'll claim that it's a little known fact that all circus performers don't have to pay income taxes because they don't have permanent residences. I'll add that the average carnival barker earns $100K per year and they only wear those old clothes to convince people that they're poor so they'll spend lots of money trying to win stupid stuffed animals? Nah! That's not outrageous enough. I know! I'll claim that spousal abuse triples during Superbowl weekend. Wait, that's been done. I know! I'll claim the average income for writers is $200K per year and that some little known loophole in the tax law allows them to keep all income tax-free. I'll also claim that authors tell publishers which artists to choose for their book's artwork and that no movies can be made of a book unless the author has 100% script approval. Hmmm... come to think of it, I think the average American probably already believes these things. What scares me most is the thought that most of these people vote. Maybe we should bring back the intelligence test as a requirement for EVERY voter. It can consist solely of true/false questions to make it easy to grade. 1. Mount Rushmore is a natural formation. 2. Homosexuality is unkown among animals. 3. Chewing gum takes seven years to pass through the human digestive system. 4. A few drops of Lemon Joy in the water will make an effective mosquito spray. 5. The government understates the unemployment rate by only counting people who are collecting unemployment benefits. 6. Proctor and Gamble had to change their symbol because their CEO went on television and revealed the hidden 666 in the stars was part of his pact with the devil. 7. McDonalds puts worms in their hamburgers to reduce costs. 8. Elvis is alive and faked his death. 9. There is no speed limit in North Dakota. 10. Blacks can jump higher than whites because they have an additional muscle in their legs that white people don't have. 11. Mountain Dew will shrink male organs and cause male infertility. 12. Coughing during a heart attack will help you survive it. 13. 75% of Americans are chronically dehydrated because they fail to drink 8 glasses of water a day. 14. Several major brands of lipstick contain dangerous levels of lead. 15. The US government assigns social security numbers on the basis of race so they can track minorities. 16. The US standard railroad gauge derives from the original specification of a roman chariot. 17. Hair grows back darker or thicker after it has been shaved. 18. Hair and fingernails continue to grow after death. 19. Fidel Castro once tried out for a major league baseball team. 20. The New York Yankees invented pin stripe uniforms because they were trying to make Babe Ruth look slimmer. Note that ALL of the above are false. If you believed any of them are true, you need to replace the gullibility detecter in your left frontal lobe. Please schedule an appointment with your family physician. This is a fairly simple operation and is fully covered by most medical insurance providers. ========= March 16th, 2005 -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 06:05 pm - We have water! At last! The well's pump is replaced and we have running water again. You just don't realize how much you rely on some modern conveniences until they're gone. I love indoor plumbing! ==== March 15th, 2005 -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 06:16 am - The story I sold I forgot to mention that the story sale is to Yard Dog Press for their upcoming anthology, International House of Bubbas. I had great fun writing Bubba in Baghdad and I don't CARE that this isn't a major publisher paying mega-bucks or an anthology that's likely to earn me notice among those who nominate for various awards. I had great fun writing this story and I decided long ago that if I was writing on spec, I was going to write what I wanted to write. I love writing humor and there's so few opportunities to do this that I was thrilled at the chance to submit a story where I knew humor would be desired. In my humble opinion, this is one of my better humor pieces. The ending (imho) is rather predictable and a bit of a groaner, but the whole story is a fun and very politically incorrect. (1 comment | Leave a comment) 09:40 pm - It's in the mail and we're out of water The contracts for the short story sale went out in the mail today and I e-mailed the manuscript and short bio. Hurrah! On the flip side, the water stopped flowing in our house and no, it's not a matter of paying our water bill. We have a well. The pump is not pumping. Somethig is broken. We have a plumber in the house now. Since December, we have replaced siding, windows, the garage door opener, a floor, a car windshield, and I forget what other things we've replaced. 2005 is proving to be an expensive year. ==== March 14th, 2005 -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 06:12 am - Writing News I finally sold another story. Woo Hoo! ===== March 8th, 2005 -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 03:33 pm - A Rose for Andre Norton Andre Norton's time on Earth appears to be growing short and thus I make the following suggestion to those who have read and loved her work: Send a rose. Now. I always thought it was tragic to see so many bouquets of flowers at a funeral home when the deceased could not enjoy them. So I'm suggesting everyone who has any intention of sending flowers later, banish that thought and send them now, while Andre can still smell them. I've been trying to find a nice floral bouquet with pussy willows or cat tails, but I've failed and thus I'm defaulting to roses. I'm placing an order tonight. (Leave a comment) 08:32 pm - Teeth -- here I go again Now that I've got a temporary crown on the left upper molar, I have knocked a significant piece off the right upper molar. I'd half-expected this as I couldn't chew on the left side and thus was eating softer foods and doing all my chewing on the right. Today, I foolishly ate some peanuts. They weren't hard, but they weren't soft and mushy either. Sigh! At least it's not a bad break like the one on the left (knocking on wood while typing this). I still can't take time off work until the deployment is finished and we're at the half-way point. One more week to go. I'm particularly concerned about how much this is likely to hurt when I get on an airplane to fly out to Denver. It's right under the sinuses and last time I chipped that tooth, it hurt like heck once I hit high altitude. I guess this will be my excuse for fencing poorly in Denver. I think I'm going to lose a tooth later this month. The dentist had said that if this tooth gave me problems again, it was time to pull it. ===== February 1st, 2005 -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 03:18 am - Repettive Dreams Every month or so, I have a dream that follows the same basic plotline. I'm still married to the ex-husband, the children are uoung again, everything that has happened the last 20+ years has merely been a happy dream, and I'm trying desperately to escape that marriage. Last night was a particularly vivid dream in which the physical abuse was escalating and the trap was squeezing tighter and tighter around me. Most people claim they can't understand why abuse victims don't just leave. I marvel that so many of us escape alive. Until you've lived it, you just don't understand how the door to escape slams shut in your face every way you turn. When you have children, the law forces you to return to your abuser over and over and over again in a little game called "visitation rights". They should call it an exchange of hostages as the abuser seizes this opportunity to threaten his escaped victim with all the things that can happen to the children while the victim isn't there to keep a close eye on them. You'd think that a parent would care about their children and they usually do, but there's just something off in the way their minds work and they somehow justify it in their minds. It's not their fault. It's the victim's fault and it will always be the victim's fault for as long as the victim lives. I figure the children and I are alive because my ex found another victim. And then another. And had another child. No doubt he'd have an entirely different perception of my reality if someone asked him and he'd probably manage to convince everyone that I'm a hysterical nut and that he was never any danger to me or the kids and I was the one who needed psychological help. Abusers are good at that. Even the ones -- like my ex -- who weren't good at anything else. I usually don't talk about this. I try never to even think about it. But about once a month or so I wake up from a dream in which the last several years have been a pleasant dream and I'm back in that horrible marriage. And then I wake up terrified until I gradually realize that now is reality and that was a dream and I'm safe and the kids are safe and grown and there's nothing to fear anymore. As I've typed this, I've sat here from 3am until 330am, shaking while I type and fighting a strong desire to get into the car and drive as far and as fast as I can. Never mind that it was "just a dream". It felt real. It still feels real. Forget about Stephen King and Poppy Brite and all the other writers of horror. For me, nothing beats the horror of reality of those last few years with my ex-husband. And he wasn't nearly as bad as many abusers. I was never rushed to the hospital with injuries. I never called the police. I never visited a crisis center. Yet I'm still having these nightmares about a marriage that ended in 1982 and an ex-husband that I haven't seen since about 1986. God willing, I'll never see him again because I haven't a clue what I'll do if I ever see him again. Would I run screaming into the night or would I snap and attack him with whatever I can find to use as a weapon? I don't ever want to find out. I just want him to stay out of my life and the nightmares to stop. It's almost 4am and I am still shaking and still trying to convince myself that it was just a dream and if I go back to bed, it will be Greg who is there and not Dave. And you know what? I'm afraid to get up and open the door. Even sitting here, in front of a computer that didn't exist during the time of my marriage, I'm afraid to step out the door. Maybe the dream was real and I'm asleep again and if I open the door, I'm going to be right back in that old trap and still struggling to escape. I'm going to sign off now, take a deep breath, and open the door. God willing, my reality will still be here when I completely wake up and I'll delete this post after wondering how I could have ever written anything so foolish and been so easily upset by a stupid dream. Again. ====== January 17th, 2005 -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 09:38 pm - Afraid to be happy There's an old tradition around here that if the crops are good, you tell everyone that the prices will be terrible and if the prices are good, you point out some other potential disaster. In other words, you never allow yourself to be satisfied or happy with where you are today because you just know that if you relax, God is going to whap you with something awful. I've been feeling afraid that things were too good lately, only my feelings are also mixed with survivor guilt. I'm employed. I can afford to go to the store and buy fresh fruit out of season (a scandalous extravagance). How can I justify spending money on fencing lessons, trips, and other events when there are friends who are unemployed and people in other countries without even the basic necessities? I've been struggling with this lately and I don't know the answer. I have, however, asked myself if being miserable would help any of those less fortunate and the answer is no. Still, I feel much like a person eating at a picture window in front of beggars who are starving. There's got to be a better way to run the world. ===== January 2nd, 2005 -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 03:43 pm - Things to do I just finished organizing all my finished and unfinished novels and discovered I have the following: 1. Allergic to Magic, a YA novel. It's as perfect as I can make it and it should be going out to editors. 2. Days of Future Passed, a YA novel that needs another editing pass before going out to editors. 3. The Intelligent Princess, a YA novel written long ago that is worth revising. 4. Four Sabres, a YA novel in process that I started in October and need/want to finish. 5. Novel 2000, a 1/4 Cherokee story set during the time of the Cherokee resettlement that I should finish. I stopped writing this one because I took a wrong left turn and couldn't figure out how to get back on course. I want to try to finish this one before the year is out. 6. Time travel novel was finished three months ago and needs revision, editing, and titling. 7. Fish novel is a 1/4th written story in a unqiue setting where I got stuck and stopped. I still want to finish this one as it has potential. 8. Jerico is finished but badly done and this is a plotting problem as well as a writing problem. I need to review this one and decide if it should be trashed. It's a trunk story. 9. Mercury is finished, but suffers from a search-for-the-holy-grail plot line and a couple of implausible plot devices. I suspect this one can be salvaged and should be salvaged. 10. Murder at the gym is a bare start of an idea that I had long ago and I'm debating whether or not I should continue this one. 11. Falcon's Flight is a long-ago written novel that might be work revising. So that's the lineup. One of my goals for 2005 is to sort through all of these and either finish them or trunk them. If nothing else, my computer's hard drive will be a little more organized by 2006 if all goes according to plan. On the subject of fencing, I am throwing away $29.95 on a DVD that teaches some sabre basics. I do not know how useful this will be and esp. since I tend to buy these things and expect the information to magically transfer into me. However, it looks to be a good and useful training DVD and thus it will be my first and last fencing DVD purchase for 2005. The objective here is to be able to see certain moves over and over and over again until the moves sink into my mind a little better.