Robin's Mystery Blog

My coping strategy for the next 6 months

2012-01-02T16:28:00.000-08:00

I live in Seattle and I make no secret that my most favorite time of year is September through December. The pressure of summer is off - no more moaning if it isn't sunny or warm enough to play in the sprinkler - no more pressure on the days the sun *does* come out to do something epic. Plus, I tend to get heat stroke really easily. Maybe it's to do with drinking too much coffee.

But then September comes and the kids go back to school, and I *love* school - not just because I'm kicking the kids out of the house, but I just love helping with homework and seeing the other moms again and getting back into a routine. And the promise of the holidays loom. Yes, the days get shorter, and darker, and colder. It's Seattle. By November if you work in an office you feel like a mole because you leave in the dark and come home in the dark. But the dark is *perfect* for the holidays. You get to make fun, festive food like pumpkin pie and mulled cider and mashed potatoes and put meals in the crock pot. Christmas music starts up and people put out lights and you pray for snow - just a little. And everyone has this feeling of anticipation and hope.

Also, the themes - you can decorate for each month - bouquets of freshly sharpened pencils in September, jack o' lanterns in October, wreathes made out of leaves in November and little pilgrims on your table, and then there's Christmas.

But now, it's all done, and contrary to the song, Christmas is not in *mid-winter* it's at the very beginning of winter. We Seattlites have all of winter to go now - black as ever, with no twinkling lights, and more rain than snow... till June. But usually till July.

This is my least favorite time of year and it goes on for six months. Or seven.

I decided a huge part of it is that there aren't anymore themes. I mean, if you're looking at a drugstore calendar, they'll show snowflakes in January (but it probably won't snow) and heart's in February (I dislike Valentine's day) and then pastel eggs and Easter bunnies (and yes, I celebrate Easter. It's a very powerful holiday, but I really can't stand pastels or candy coated almonds) and then there's spring, which here just means more rain.

But this is not a complaining post - I know, I had you fooled. This is the year I do something about it!

I'm inventing my own themes. I don't have it all worked out yet, but one month will be Harry Potter month and one will be Narnia, and maybe in the spring (ick) we'll do a Secret Garden month. Doesn't that sound like more fun than Easter eggs and hearts?

We'll make butter beer

and Turkish delight

and Yorkshire pudding (ok, I googled Yorkshire pudding and we may need something else for Secret Garden month).

I figure there are all sorts of wreath possibilities, too.

What do you think? Crazy? Or a lemons and lemonade sort of thing. Let me know if you have any great ideas for themes. I'm still working it out! I figure till the tree comes down (tonight, I swear!) I don't have to start in on January's theme...

When dogs aren't garden gnomes, or humans for that matter

2011-11-30T18:18:00.000-08:00

I used to be the sort of person that loved a good fight, or crusade. If someone even hinted at maligning a friend of mine - I was there! If someone disagreed with me about an issue close to my heart, I pulled out my proverbial soap box and got down to business! I adored Julia Sugarbaker. I loved a good rant. (I still do, really. If you're ranting - link me!)

And then I grew up and realized that you change more hearts than minds, that it's better to come alongside someone than rail against them, that it's better to help people understand each other than staunchly defend. It's just more effective.

But sometimes people are wrong and sometimes they just don't get that they are wrong, and sometimes there are big repercussions from wrong beliefs and so, because I don't want to rant on Facebook, I'm just going to make my case here.

A friend of mine posted a link in favor of anti-tethering legislation. (Yes, we're talking about dogs). And a man commented underneath that what was better, to leave a dog outside with access to food and water and God's green earth, or stuck inside in a box no longer than his leash.

Well, if you're talking about humans, there's no question. OK, neither is good, but no human being wants to be confined. And this guy, well meaning as he is, wouldn't want a dog confined.

Except that dogs aren't humans. Dogs are den animals. And dogs do just fine in a crate (with a few exceptions). Dogs don't like to mess their dens so they don't potty in them, but a dog can wait 8 hours to go to the bathroom if they need to. Or longer. Because they aren't humans.

What dogs can't do is be chained outside for hours, days, months, years on end, with no interaction, with the sun beating down on them or the rain chilling them, with no den to go into. Their water dishes get overturned. Squirrels run by and all they can do is bark. People run by and they bark. People keep walking and they think the barking works so they bark longer and harder. They get left outside like a garden gnome, just there to decorate the lawn, and they go crazy, truly mentally ill. Then one of these dogs breaks it's tether and chomps on the first thing they see, because they're starving, or frantic, or just plain nuts at this point, and we put the dog to sleep. If it's a pit bull, which it probably is because they're the leading dog chosen for garden gnome status these days, we may even ban the breed and say it's inherently vicious.

So I don't like to point out that people are wrong anymore, I really don't. But if you don't sometimes point it out, then people can't adopt the cute little pit bull at the shelter because their home owners' insurance will drop them or their landlord won't allow it or their town has a breed ban. And then the cute pup gets euthanized for just having stubby legs and a fat head.

Because we didn't know tethering was a bad idea. (And yes, there are good ways to tether for short amount of times, but I'm talking about all day, every day, forever.)

So just this once, I'm pulling out my soap box. I promise to put it back under my bed after this blog post.

PS Janet Reid just posted about a great pup that needs a home if you're on the east coast!
http://jetreidliterary.blogspot.com/2011/11/looking-for-canine-companion.html

So now it's Wednesday

2011-11-30T10:35:00.000-08:00

And Dear Hubby left for Georgia at four in the morning. He's probably still on a plane and can't get enough coffee.

The kids all seemed fine until last night. This morning, one was sick. The other wouldn't wake up for school. (I mean, she was breathing and conscious, just refusing to acknowledge morning. I may have played that card myself once or twice). And Mystery Man went non-verbal when he realized we were nearly out of chocolate milk. This would also be the morning I realized I had an entire manilla envelope full of construction paper I needed to cut out for a Kindergarten class project... today.

So... I made cinnamon rolls, let the kids sleep till 9:30, and got them to school by 10 - with the cutting project all done.

Just one more reason I'm not making mother of the year this year. Again. It's like Lauren Graham at the Emmy's. At least I'm in good company.

I'm pretty sure if I had a dog, he'd have licked the girls faces till they woke up, made me my coffee, and we'd have made it on time. Right?

Just another Monday

2011-11-21T21:48:00.000-08:00

You all know my husband travels for business, yes? Quite a bit, really. But today he didn't leave till the afternoon and he'll be back tomorrow. I should be able to handle this.

And I would, except that the children have a built in sensor for when he's left. I don't know how they do this, but I do know if this could be harnessed somehow for national defense we could do away with the creepy airport scanners and probably most world wars.

So.. what did the little darlings do, you ask? It started out small. An absolute refusal to go to hula by Mystery Man - my 3 year old. I couldn't really blame him. It's no fun to sit on the cold floor while your sister ami's around the island for half an hour and he got reprimanded for running last week.

Him: I won't go to hula because I am afraid. Do you know what I am afraid of?
Me: Um, the bathroom fan.
Him: Nope, try again.
Me: The teacher because she told you not to run?
Him: Yes, and that is why I'm not going.

Our hula teacher is a lovely and wonderful person but Mystery Man has trust issues. I bribed him with McDonalds and we made it, but not without lots of conversation and a brief stand off where he said he'd stay in the car where he'd be nice and safe.

We return. It's pitch black and pouring and just warm enough that it's rain, but not snow, but no warmer. He's asleep. We race inside, arms full of food and sleeping three year old. Boop, my 6 year old tells me her ear still hurts. I look for medicine and ponder a trip to the pediatrician for an ear infection. No, it hurts around her earring. Oh. Ohhhhh. Crap.

I look. I have to promise not to hurt her. The back is crooked and digging into her ear. I tell her I'll fix it. She panics. I give her a pencil to bite down on and tell her that's what soldiers did during World War One when you had to set their bones in the field. Yes, I'm not kidding. That's exactly what I told her. She bit down on the pencil. I touched her ear and she went flying. Great. I figured I'd get it when she was sleeping.

Then I hear screaming. Blood is pouring down her cheek and across her chin. It's not good to run when people are holding your earring. I want to look at it.

Boop: You told me the pencil would make it not hurt and now I am BLEEDING! I am not taking any more chances with this ear!

Fortunately, her big sister saved the day and cleaned up the blood and got the Neosporin on. I need to reward her greatly. In large part because of what's coming next.

We return to our McDonald's feast and Red, my 10 year old, is standing at the kitchen island eating. She's wearing a pair of jeans and a cropped sweatshirt that should sit right at her waist but sometimes rides up a little. It exposes a strip of skin right at Mystery Man's mouth level. This does not escape MM's notice. He takes a big gulp of soda, aims, shoots.

He's rewarded with the biggest scream he's ever gotten out of Red. Of course, he repeats his win. I move to stop him, but have issues with, shall we say, misplaced laughter, and can't quite catch my breath. Red shoots daggers at me. I finally get MM to swallow his drink.

I get them in bed. I read chapter two of Harry Potter. I tuck them in. I come downstairs and call my darling husband because I realize I missed his call.

Me: Did you call? Sorry, I was putting the kids to bed.
Him: Don't say sorry. You don't know why I called.
Me: ...
Him: Remember when I said I'd take the garbage to the curb before I left on the trip?
Me: No. No no no no no. You know it's raining, pitch black, and the recycling has to go out too.
Him: How about I make you a great dinner in a couple of days.

Yes, he's cooking Thanksgiving. No, it doesn't count.

I was nice about it. But if you know me at all you know I took the opportunity to point out that if I had my pit bull this wouldn't be an issue. A harness, a good rope, a few choice instructions, and there you go. Don't ruin my dream. It could happen.

And the first thing I did when I got back was blog about it except every time I hit my Enter key it popped up HP sound settings instead of giving me a carriage return and you can't do an entire blog post on one line. I blame Mystery Man, but I have no idea how he pulled that one off...

Clearly, a reboot fixed that problem. Now, to reboot the rest of the evening...

Hedgehogs, who knew?

2011-10-28T09:33:00.000-07:00

source
A friend of mine just posted on Facebook that she wants a hedgehog for Christmas. She's probably mostly joking, but of course I then had to google "buy a hedgehog" and find a hedgehog breeder near me so that I could taunt her with pictures of baby hedgehogs.

First of all, I didn't really know they could be pets. I thought they were like squirrels, but no, you can buy a hedgehog.

Some other fun things I learned:

1) You can free feed a hedgehog - meaning, just leave out a bowl of food, but you know your hedgehog (can we just call them H-hogs for short? Thanks) is getting a bit plump when they can't curl into a ball anymore. I think that's an excellent test for anyone.

2) They only do well if the temperature is between 70 and 80 degrees. Just like me. If it dips below 70, they will attempt to hibernate, and they don't do this very well. I don't know if that means they can't quite achieve hibernation and just get really sleepy, or if they achieve it *too* well and don't wake up.

3) Either way, the solution is a heating pad. Either put them on a human one, or buy a hedgehog shaped reptile one and put it in their cage. This is the first pet I've heard of where "heating pad" is part of their special needs.

4) No clumping litter. I'm not even gonna tell you where it gets stuck, but I will tell you this. If I ever get a hedgehog, I'm only getting a girl for this reason alone.

5)Hedgehogs are nocturnal. You can wake them up and play with them during the day, but don't try to change their schedule and make them a daytime pet. Again, we might be related. I've heard of werewolves, could I be a latent were-hedgehog? Every morning it occurs to me that I am not a daytime pet.

Right there in black and white

2011-10-18T08:49:00.000-07:00

Or maybe it's green and blue... anyway. I was doing some research for my work in progress and needed to look up some demographic data for a little town in California. While I was perusing this city data site, I noticed weather facts. Here are the facts for this little California town - these are graphs showing the number of sunny days compared with the national average - and the number of cloudy days. The details don't really matter - just take a look and get a feel for the shape of the graphs.

Ok, got it? Great.
It occurred to me to look up *my* city and see just how different it is. I live just outside of Seattle.
Here's my graphs:

Just to be clear - that thick green line all by itself at the bottom? That's our average percentage of sunny days, compared with the US average....wayyyyy above it.
And on the cloudy graph - see that big purple mass that looks like it's going to swallow you up? That's the number of cloudy days and that little wisp of yellow at the top is the number of sunny days.

So enjoy your sun, all of you who don't live with me and the purple monster. ;) He and I have made peace - he tells me to fill up my coffee cup and go ahead, read the next chapter of The Night Circus - after all, it's cold out there!

More on pit bulls...

2011-10-09T18:26:00.001-07:00

So yes, my new book has a pit bull in it. The research has come pretty naturally - I'm a pro with petfinder - but I keep finding dogs I want. Like this one.
She knows how to sit, shake, high five, and bark "I Love You!" It's not her fault she's a stray - her owner is in jail and she's got no home. I mean, I'm only human...
A friend of mine who works in a shelter kept posting about pit bulls on Facebook and I was like, yeah, yeah... aren't they kind of scary? Why are you so obsessed with pit bulls.
Then she posted a link to the American Temperament Testing Society's page.
They run thousands of dogs through a challenging temperament test every year. If a dog fails the test, it's because they showed unprovoked aggression, panic without recovery, or strong avoidance. It's a much more difficult test to pass than the Canine Good Citizenship test that so many dogs take to prove that they're reliable. Pit bulls passed at about 86% - so for every hundred dog about 14 didn't pass, and they tested around 700. Golden Retrievers passed at a rate of 84%.

And then *I* became obsessed with pit bulls. Why have they been so maligned? Why do people fear them? Why do we read about so many pit bull attacks. Why not Golden Retriever attacks? Or Schnauzer's that only passed at 66%.

It's been a fun journey. I'm almost done with this book. But it's really only used such a small part of all that I've learned. Fortunately, I have a blog. :)

Back for your enjoyment: Dog of the day

2011-10-07T12:24:00.000-07:00

Do you any of you long time readers remember when I had my "Boxer of the Day" feature? I used to work above a pet store, and I walked by that pet store every day on the way to Starbucks. Let's be real, I walked to Starbucks more than once a day. And I had to walk past that pet store to get there and back - so I saw the pups sometimes 4 or 6 times a day. One day, the inevitable happened, I fell in love. I called her Hepburn, even though I never got to take her home. She was a little fawn colored Boxer with a black mask. Since I couldn't have her, I did what any other person dealing with unrequited love would do - I became just a wee bit obsessed. I put up a picture of a new Boxer every day on my blog.I still don't have a Boxer. I had another baby instead and I'm still not in a "let's go get a puppy" time of life.But that's good, because I've moved on from Boxer's had have a new dog... love. Let's not use the word obsession, shall we? And since this ties in to the new book I've almost finished, I'm sharing my ~~obsession~~ love with all of you!This is Auggie. He's available for adoption in Seattle. If you adopt him, tell me - I want to pet him! He's a blue brindle with super soft fur and smile lines.

He's also a pit bull. More on that later... I promise!

Steampunk week and other things

2011-10-05T11:53:00.000-07:00

It's steampunk week at Tor!

They have a book sweepstakes going on right now and all kinds of posts on Steampunk. I'm reminded when I see things like this that I write and enjoy a particular facet of steampunk - I like mine Victorian and mechanical and pretty clean. That's part of why I'm rewriting the current book to be middle grade - it just fits my style better. Having a middle grader at home for market testing helps, too. :)I also wanted to pass on a writing book recommendation: Katherine Patterson's The Invisible Child: On Reading and Writing Books for Children. Despite carefully avoiding The Bridge to Terebithia as a child (I thought it would be too sad - but I really should have taken the chance since it's a beautiful book. I think my past self could have handled it.) This is a collection of talks she's given at various conferences. The most meaningful to me is on a child's sense of wonder and how important books are to that and how that element is so crucial to good writing for children. She uses language extremely well, and they're both delightful to read and helpful. Even when you're reading them on a treadmill like I've been doing. If they can take my mind off the fact that I'm exercising, which is not one of my favorite activities, they're pretty good. :)

The problem with not posting...

2011-10-03T12:49:00.000-07:00

for a bit is then you think you need a big "back to the blog" post and then it's not good enough and then you wait longer to come up with a better post, creating a bigger time lapse, so then you need an even BETTER post... you see the problem.

So let's just all pretend there *wasn't* a big long break and this doesn't have to be a stellar post? Thank you.

Alright then...new things:

1) On writing - the steampunk book is being revised right now. I decided it wanted to be a book for middle graders, and it's taken some time to rework it. It's kind of like knitting a pair of gloves with yarn that wants to be a stuffed mouse. It's just hard on you, the yarn, and the gloves. Better to start over. I'm almost done with the revisions, but just as I was finishing up...

2) I had a new idea that I couldn't let go of. So I've been writing furiously all summer and now... is it fall? Sheesh. So, that's where some of my blogging time went. The new book is about something near and dear to my heart and you can bet they'll be posts about it coming up. Here's a hint, "woof".

3) The blog is remaining steampunky because I have more steampunky goodness coming your way and that's another project that's been taking up my time. No, I didn't mod my laptop into a wonder of brass and wood. This is something more easily shareable. I'll link to it when it's all ready to go!

Ok, so thanks for pretending with me that the whole long summer hasn't gone by without talking. We're here now, that's what's important. Right? Thanks!

The plague - at least my plague

2011-03-30T19:34:00.000-07:00

I have the flu. It might be the plague, but we'll just call it the flu. By plague I mean evil virus that takes over your lungs and entire upper-respiratory system and bends it to its will. Not the other kind of plague.

This is of course the week that anyone who might remotely want to help me with this is out of town including my husband. OK, so it's only a couple of days that overlap while they're all gone. But it feels more dramatic to say a week.

Here are the things that go on when you're a mom and the plague comes to town:

1) Your 3 year old hears you cough and says "Mommy, I want to save you!" Then gives you a hug.

2) But, after coming out of the bathroom you find that the same delightful three year old has been eating brown sugar out of the pantry with a spoon... and trailing it across the kitchen floor.

3) Not to be outdone, the Boop, the five year old, was clearly "cooking" in the kitchen while I was on the sofa. I mean, I could see into the kitchen and she looked fine, but I couldn't see past her shoulders. I thought she was having a nice snack at the table (banana and crackers). What I found when I dragged myself over there was that she'd sliced the banana in 10 fifty cent sized pieces, left the peel all over the table, and combined brown sugar with something liquid in two bowls and was preparing to add raisins to it when I intercepted her. I need to buy more brown sugar. And mop the floor.

4) As a side note, cough syrup should work, not just taste bad.

5) Your 5 year old declares that her Barbies all have fevers and upon inspection you find them laid out in the bathroom on a towel with "cold compresses" (her words) of wet toilet paper all over them. They looked like soggy, Barbie mummies. And if you think the wet toilet paper stayed in the bathroom and didn't require a much more extensive clean up, you've forgotten already that I have a three year old.

6) You move from the sofa to the kitchen and your five year old shouts, "You're moving! Are you healed? Are you all better! Look, you stood up!"

7) Also, I had a weird desire to do all the laundry in the house. I think this comes from a case of cabin fever. I'm very susceptible to cabin fever and all the hallucinations that come with it. Now I'm faced with a pile of clean laundry that I think might win in a battle. It looks like a 50's horror slime monster, only clean clothes, not slime.

Signing off now. The monster, the zombie, and the red bird (all names given and enforced by the three year old for himself, Boop, and his big sister) are getting ready for bed. Yes, it's only 7:30, why do you ask?

When fiction, baby goat sweaters, and chatty Fed Ex guys collide

2011-03-23T22:48:00.001-07:00

I promised my friend that I would knit sweaters for his baby goats. His goat was pregnant, but I had no idea what the gestational period was for a goat. I figured I had time, though, because as I remembered, pregnancy basically lasts forever.

Except when you're a goat. I'd just proudly completed one sweater, when I woke up to photos of the brand new baby goats on Facebook Monday morning... so I cast on and knit like the wind! The baby goats will be cold! I must discharge my duty! My needles were flying! I knit standing up, while making lunch, through hula class. I wisely chose not to knit while driving. And then I finished with sore fingers and a big sigh of relief just in time to mail the sweaters off that same day. We went straight from hula where I'd had to weave in ends with my bare hands because I forgot my needle and Boop was still swishing her hips next to me and eyeing the candy counter while I eyed the Ground Delivery truck getting ready to leave in the parking lot. I plopped the sweaters on the counter and looked for help.

Which I got from a very chatty Fed Ex guy. The goat sweaters were quirky enough. I figured that would buy me enough small talk to get the package on the truck and race home to make dinner.

But no, we got to chatting about how he plays online games with his kids, and I mentioned that I did, too, all the while filling out address forms and declining insurance (the money's in the fingers!). He asked which games I played. I rattled them off. (Driving Kids anyone? MMPORGs for the 3 year old set are all the rage, especially when narrated by robots with indiscernible accents.) He knew them all. Wow, he'd never met anyone who gamed with their kids like he did. So to lend a little credibility, I mentioned that I'd worked testing video games for a while. Wouldn't want him to think I was telling tales. That job was for about 9 months about 7 years ago, and I used a lot of the experience in the YA noir book that an agent is reading *right now*.

So, he said he play tested games for EA and rattled off all the titles he worked on - where did I work? What titles did I work on?

Now in my defense, I had been knitting frantically all day, and Boop was twirling closer and closer to the Red Vines, but I tell you the only things that came to mind was the name of the company my main character worked for and all the fictional games he'd tested. Not a single real title could I recall. I nearly blurted out "The Virtz" which I'd subbed in for The Sims, but had never actually tested. Five more came to mind, all fictional. I managed to describe the company, but the only name I could think of was Playbox Labs. And we all know there's no such thing as a Playbox, folks.

I'm sure there's a moral here. Maybe - always find out the gestational period of a goat.

Things said by Mystery Man this morning

2011-03-21T08:29:00.000-07:00

On walking into the bathroom...
"Oh my, there's Daddy Giant's tooth brush"

On watching me walk into the bedroom to get his jeans
"Oh my, it very dark in here. You ok? It really very dark and scary"

On realizing Boop was home with Daddy as we drove to school
"Oh, we missing a zombie!"

On watching Red walk off to school,
"There goes the Red Bird! I tell her watch out for cars. Now, let's go get a hot cocoa."

On coming home and seeing his Red Robin balloon
"Oh, there my balloon. It wake up and ready to play."

As you can see, he's fond of exclamations, a slight British speak that I can't explain, and has renamed everyone in the house. DH and I are both Giants. Boop is Zombie (not a name she loves, by the way) and Red is "the red bird." Pretty sure that's because she sleeps in the highest bunk, or "her nest" that he has to "climb the tree" to get into.

Japan

2011-03-12T23:40:00.000-08:00

I know you all know what's going on. Images are everywhere. These are two that I wanted to share.

If you go here you can see before and after shots from Google Earth of some of the major areas hit by the earthquake and tsunami. It's an incredible use of technology to give you a sense of the destruction.

And this from The Weekly Magazine A very scared giant panda, grabbing hold of a policeman.

I've been able to check on my friends there to make sure they are alright. Facebook and forums are such a blessing in that way. I hope your friends are alright, too.

Monday, my nemesis

2011-03-09T12:57:00.000-08:00

Monday was such a Monday I couldn't write about it till Tuesday. And now look, it's Wednesday and it's just now posting. That's what Monday does sometimes.

Have I mentioned that my ipod is missing? It is. Because I'm a softie and let my 3 year old play Angry Birds. The really sad thing about this last disappearance is that it was only found for a few minutes. Boop had taken it to bed and fallen asleep with it and it wedged inbetween her mattress and the bed slats. But I kinda knew that, and I wasn't too worried. So she found it, and I was happy and then Mystery Man took it and went behind the sofa and now I can't find it. And yes, I've looked behind the sofa.

So Monday, I decided I *would* find my ipod! I looked everywhere (and by the way, let's just get it out there that this is not a story that ends with me finding my ipod). I had dust in my hair from sticking my head in places where heads and dust cloths hadn't been stuck in a loooong time. While I did this, I couldn't help but notice the heating vent... with all the playing cards stuck down there.

In the back, far recesses of my mind I've long been afraid that my ipod slid down a heating vent. Now I don't really think it would fit, but I haven't been able to test this theory, so I pulled the vent off, and pried all the cards from between the little slats. Then I looked down the shaft. Hmphf. More cards. And who knows what else. I don't like sticking my hand down a long tube that goes under the house that I can't see the end of. I start to think about long skinny things with big jaws that might bite my fingers off. Probably this isn't a fear grounded in reality, but if we *did* have one of those nasty serpants from Harry Potter, this is where it would live. So I can't help but sort of scrunch my eyes closed as I stick my hand down the hole. And then...

GAH!!! Something bit my hand! I pull it out and it's bleeding. And I'm still reeling from the fact that I'm RIGHT! Something DOES live under the house when I realize it's one of the rusty screws sticking out of the tube that I ripped my hand on while I was closing my eyes. Whoops. This means I call the regular doctor about a tetanus shot instead of some kind of magical creature containment unit. Which is good, because this is the phone number I know.

And there was no ipod down the tube. So I go wash my wound out, only to knock over a jar of coins. Into the sink. And I clean them up with gritted teeth while Boop runs all over looking for just the right band aid and I wait for a call back about this whole tetanus shot thing. And then the groceries get here. And I have to clean out the fridge, which leads to lots of leftovers sitting next to my sink that I put off sending down the garbage disposal till midnight. At which point, I realize where those missing coins ended up.

So the night ends as it began, with my sticking my hand down another long dark tube, fishing out things that are not my ipod and hoping not to get bit.

Fortunately, I've got 5 more days till Monday and I meet again. I'm preparing with more coffee next time.

Catching up

2011-03-03T15:34:00.000-08:00

I know I've been a little quieter here lately. I'm querying for the steampunk book right now, and still getting requests for the book I wrote before that (remember when the blog was all blue and mysterious...) so there's been lots of agent research and revising going on here. Querying is always a little bit nervewracking. It's so hard not to check my gmail address all day long. There may not be a message now, but... how 'bout NOW! *shakes head at self* Sometimes I long for the good ol' days of mailboxes when there could only be news once a day. But, I mean, not really. It's not like I'm giving up email anytime soon.

And, the last time I checked email "just one more time" I found out I won a copy of Veronica Roth's Divergent. FUN!!! I won in a Goodreads contest, so of course I'll be posting about the book over there after I get it and I promise to link you. If you haven't heard of this one, you should go check out Veronica's blog and here's the Goodreads link

Finally, I'll leave you with another photo clue about the new novel I'm working on.

Detours

2011-02-19T16:06:00.000-08:00

In high school, there was this song we all knew the words to. It wasn't by Paula Abdul or U2, although we knew those too, this was by a guy named Scott Wesley Brown and it was called Please Don't Send Me to Africa. We all knew this song because it was catchy and clever and we were all pretty terrified that God would send us to Africa. We knew about missionaries going all sorts of places. We didn't have blogs then (can you imagine?) or cell phones really or email. But we had slide shows set to music and missionaries in town for Sunday night service and they asked for us to help out with their ministry.

Gladly, I thought, gladly, just don't send me.

I haven't thought about that song in probably 10 years. I haven't heard it for at least 15. But when I clicked on this blog, the lyrics rushed into my head.

"Please don't send me to Africa, I don't think I've got what it takes."

This is a blog by a girl who went to Africa, and not kicking and screaming or biting her nails, or escaping a problem. She just wanted to go, and she adopted a bunch of children, and she cares for hundreds more. When I read the first entry, I thought she went maybe ten years ago. She talks about her children the same way I talk about mine. She has a mother's heart. I thought she was at least my age or older and had done this for a while. She has 13 kids, after all, and the oldest is a teenager.

And maybe that's why I connected so much with her at first. That pull of a mother's heart is universal.

Then I read on. She wasn't 35. She wasn't 25. She was 22 - is 22. And she went to Uganda first at 17, then she came back to the States for a semester of college, and it just wasn't for her. She went back to Uganda at 18 years old, and started caring for the poorest of the poor and the sickest of the sick.

And then it was really her mother I was feeling for. Because, the only thing that I think would be harder than being sent to Africa, would be my daughter being sent to Africa.

She's just finished writing a book, and I hope it comes out soon, but for now her blog's the best "book" I've read in a long time. I just wanted to pass it on to you, and encourage you to read about the day she said goodbye to her beautiful boyfriend, or the day she she cut jiggers out of a little boy's foot, or dewormed a 10 pound girl that was 9 months old who eventually became her youngest daughter.

Most of the time I can see a little to the left and a little to the right of my own path, maybe I nod at some side roads that I don't intend to take. And then sometimes I get to see a path so different it feels like another planet, and I just wanted to share her story. I hope you love it as much as I do.

PS Thanks to my friend that just returned from Egypt for sharing this blog with me. :)

Gatsby

2011-02-18T13:15:00.001-08:00

Some things make me stop what I'm doing and blog immediately! Or Facebook, tweet, what have you. This is one of those things.

First, a pop quiz. What is my favorite book? I think I already gave you a hint.

Yes, Gatsby. Gatsby and the green light and the doomed love and the flappers and all that.

Now, click here, if you love him, too. :)

Vintage Dresses and Naked Bakers

2011-02-07T21:33:00.001-08:00

I just wanted to alert you all to one of my new favorite blogs, Gertie's New Blog for Better Sewing. She's working her way through Vogue's Book for Better Sewing (hence the name of her blog) and she has all kinds of beautiful photos of dresses like this
and this.

It's enough to make me want to sew. And I haven't sewn anything but a button since 8th grade when I made a gym bag that fell apart and a mallard that bore questionable resemblance to water fowl. But somehow Gertie makes me think I can do it. We'll see. ;)

So, while I'm querying my steampunk book, I'm working on a new one, and I think I mentioned that it's snowy. It also involves baking... many hundreds of years ago, and I thought I'd leave you with this little factoid from my research.

In Paris of 1521, as punishment for some baking related faux pax, the authorities made three men run the streets of Paris naked and with shaved heads. They had to carry lit candles and cry out "Mercy from God, the Virgin Mary, and the King for the wrong we have done in baking." A mob applauded the whole way.

Fortunately, it makes my own little baking issues pale in comparison. ;)

Steampunk games

2011-02-01T20:48:00.000-08:00

For the last year or so, whenever I go to the app store on my ipod, I check for "steampunk". At first, there was just an app here and there, maybe a story collection or something, but lately there have been more and more. The same goes for knitting patterns on Ravelry, but that's for another post. ;) I thought I'd share a few of my favorite games:

1. Cogs
How beautiful is this picture? Cogs has lots of fun puzzle games - interlocking gears and pipes full of steam - stuff like that.

2. Atlantis Sky Patrol by Big Fish
I've always loved Big Fish and their Diner Dashing and such. This is a beautiful art deco kind of steampunk in a marble shooter. But they've added lots of fun elements like bonus rounds and upgrading your ship and doomsday devices. Who doesn't love a good doomsday device? (And kinda off topic, but are you all noticing how steampunky Fringe is becoming? Love!)

3. Grimm -
This one is a little, well, grim. I've talked about the different flavors of steampunk before, my favorite is the very Victorian optimistic sort of steampunk - the "Hey, we all have jet packs, and of course the automaton does the laundry" kind of thing. :) There's also the art deco industrial type, this borders on diesel punk, as often things aren't purely steam powered. And I do love deco, but I like to keep my steampunk pure. And then there's the kind of goth steampunk, with lots of skulls and an emphasis on the dark side of the moon. That would be this game. Really not my favorite form of the genre, but I like physics based games where you get to tilt the ipod all around and work out that acceleromater. ;)

Enjoy your gaming!!

Playlist

2011-01-21T16:22:00.000-08:00

Hey all, just wanted to stop by and post my mini-playlist for Johnny Steam. Hoping this embedding works.

Add a playlist to your page using iLike

These are songs that got me in the spirit of the book, and that I played if I needed to get back into Johnny's world. As you can see, he struggles a little bit... ;)

Why hello, January!

2011-01-09T12:46:00.000-08:00

Well that was a longer blog break than I intended. Thanks to all who stuck with me!
Santa was very good to me and brought me a skeletized, steampunky watch and a huge framed map of Victorian London. My family knows the way to my heart, for sure. :)

It's snowing here in Seattle - has been for hours and I think it's snowing in most of the rest of America, too. I took my three year old Mystery Man out for a walk and he laughed at the snowflakes and brushed snow off Christmas lights--then we ran inside when he heard a train whistle. Trains are miles away from us, but it was a still, winter's night and it carried, I guess, all the way from the beach. Mystery Man is obsessed with trains, but scared to death of train whistles. I think sometimes it's fun to love something and be a little bit afraid of it.

I'm just starting to set my steampunk book loose into the wild, now. And I'm a little bit afraid of that, too. But it's also a lot of fun. And tonight is the perfect night to make notes on my new, wintry work in progress.

Enjoy the snow, everybody!

(the picture is from a favorite blog of mine, Vintage Seattle)

Merry Christmas Eve!

2010-12-24T09:39:00.000-08:00

We're off to the Christmas Eve service tonight to hear our Dickens Carolers and then spend some time with family. The kids are rearranging all the presents under the tree and counting down till Christmas morning.

I hope you are having a lovely day, whether you're wrapping presents, finishing up work, last minute shopping, or visiting the pyramids in Giza like a friend of mine.

Merry Christmas!

Christmas Time Is Here*

2010-12-19T13:23:00.000-08:00

This is not an official "you won't hear from me till the new year" post, but more of a "it's entirely possible you wont here from me till the new year" post. ;) Something may jump out at me that I just have to tell you about. But *probably* I'll be wrapping presents, finishing knitting, taking pictures, mailing cards and all that.

And here is where I confess that no, I do not feel one little tiny smidge of Christmas spirit right now, despite the tree being up, the music being on, and downloading the Christmas version of Zombie Farm. (Haven't you??) I know a lot of people are saying that, blogging that, writing about that, and I know a lot of people will tell you to slow down and enjoy Christmas, but here is where I zig where the other's zag.

Don't worry about. I'm not. I have three kids. They come with lots of work, lots of stuff, lots of activities, despite my efforts to keep it simple. There's just A LOT! I've got presents under the tree, I've made cider, organized their parties, attended their concerts, Daddy is reading them A Christmas Carol, and I'm ok with being tired and a little stressed. Someday the Mystery Man won't throw a fit when I start the dishwasher without his help (or the dryer or the vacuum). Someday Boop won't beg me to paint her nails and Red won't walk around with her nose in Harry Potter bumping into walls because she can't see where she's going and I'll have more time to think, and more time to appreciate the season.

Right now, I'm appreciating the chaos.

So merry Christmas to all and to all a good night! I hope you get more sleep than I will. ;)

*Mystery Man has watched so much Charlie Brown around here, sometimes I only speak in Charlie Brown.

If Santa wore brass goggles...

2010-12-15T16:31:00.001-08:00

What to my wondering eyes should appear today on Twitter, but a shopping list for the steampunk among us. Thank you, Tor/Forge, thank you! So I'm passing on my absolute favorites to you.

Some favorites... and you know, these things are hard to come by. You can't just buy a zeppelin cookie cutter at the mall. But...

You can buy it here!

Or perhaps steampunk alphabet blocks? The Mystery Man does have a birthday coming up...

Or a parasol?

But I think I went the most crazy over all of these little parts: clock faces, buttons, dragonfly charms, brass butterflies, clock arms...

Just, ah, don't buy *all* the paris clock face buttons, ok? Thanks! ;)

Word Count and Counting My Marbles

2010-12-14T17:21:00.000-08:00

My blogging time has been a little hard to come by lately as my little Mystery Man is taking forbidden naps and staying up till midnight. I'm blogging during a nap right now. And it's 5:30pm my time. That is not good. So I'm not only tired, but fraying a little around the edges as I have had zero kid free time in... oh way too many hours to count.

But, I did want to pass on this fun tool for you in the meantime. It doesn't take too much mental acuity to post a link (or does it - we'll soon find out).

This little guy tells you the word count of any published book. That's right! No more googling "how many words is Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone?" (77,325)

It's a little confusing looking. Just click on "Quiz Store" then type in your book, and select it from the list, and voila!

Editing and Outlining

2010-12-10T21:02:00.000-08:00

I'm on page 100 of edits tonight - with 163 looming out ahead of me. The hard 163. ;) I think I said I was going to take a break, and I'm sure I'll look at it again after a break, but I'm jumping in with the things I know need fixing.

I'm also sketching out the next book. I love having a next book. A new idea makes the whole world seem more hopeful. I don't plan to talk much about it here, because I'm keeping most of my focus on my steampunk story, but I did want to share with you one of the photos I'm using as inspiration. Enjoy!

Steampunk art

2010-12-08T13:47:00.000-08:00

Some pictures make me want to just jump inside. This is one of those pictures. Marisa Erven is a concept artist that makes art for games and cinema, and I've had the pleasure of chatting with her about what goes into her art. I'm always amazed at how similar the creative process is, no matter what the medium. We discussed giving and receiving critiques with almost exactly the same language- including words like "character" and "story".

I hope you enjoy looking through her site as I have!

In which she types, THE END

2010-12-07T16:15:00.000-08:00

I've managed to fill in all the blanks, connect all the dots, move seamlessly from the first scene in the book to the last scene in the book which means that, yes, I'M DONE!

I will need to edit. I've done a lot of editing, but I have more to do, but still, I'm basking in the wonder that is a *finished* draft. WHEW!

Everybody needs a theme song

2010-12-04T22:48:00.000-08:00

1) I think you all know I adore Jack Reacher. If you don't, then I've been remiss, and it's entirely possible that I've only discussed my devotion to all things Lee Child on Facebook.

2) Let's assume you *now* know that I love Jack Reacher. Moving on. I just heard the Zac Brown Band sing their new song, Colder Weather, with Amos Lee.

3) If you happened to miss the Country Music Award follow up show honoring the people that won, and really, how could you... I offer up this link.

4) You may swoon now.

Also on that show was Darius Rucker (you know how he hates to be called Hootie) and Adele singing that song by Lady Antebellum that I can't stand. Oh wait - you don't know about that either... I tend not to vent about about annoying country songs on my blog. It's called Need You Now, and it's about a girl who gets drunk, calls up her ex and tells him she misses him. Inspiring. I can't stand it.

Except when Darius Rucker and Adele sing it, and then suddenly it's fraught with meaning and emotional depth.

The lesson? It's all in the execution. A thought that scares me as a writer, because I've got lots of bright, shiny ideas, but they need to be done right. I think that's why artists go a little crazy sometimes, because they can see the gulf between the vision and the reality.

Unless you're Lady Antebellum and somehow go on to sell tons and tons of records, and maybe then you're fine with it. Or maybe not. Maybe it drives them crazy that Adele sings it better. But I don't mean pick on them. It's not really fair in a world that offers up Ke$ha... it's just that Adele hasn't sung any of her songs.

Perspective

2010-12-02T23:22:00.001-08:00

I tucked my big ten year old in a few hours ago and settled in with a cup of licorice tea (thank you, DH), a big cozy Mariner's blanket, and the Tivo remote on the sofa. I'm tired. Birthdays are tiring. Lots of baking, and shopping, and wrapping, and cleaning, and cooking again, and cleaning again, and keeping very excited little people as calm as can be expected from event to event.

I sat down thinking I was as tired as I could remember in a while... and then my mind flicked to the day ten years ago when my beautiful daughter was born. And I thought - there are deeper levels of tired. It was a long day - 21 hours of labor, an epidural that didn't work, back labor, and a sweet little baby that only whimpered when she finally saw the light of the OR room. I was afraid to hold her because I was so exhausted I was sure I'd drop her and I made them take her back - I still remember the look on the nurse's face. I know she thought I was a terrible excuse for a mother - already.

Later I heard a nurse whisper to my husband, asking if I was always this pale. I'm pale, he said, but not this pale. I heard whispers of losing too much blood. I stayed an extra day in the hospital and it probably should have been an extra week, and when I say I felt like I might die I'm not being facetious, I really thought my body would just give up. It was tired with a tinge of fear.

But, of course, I got better. It took weeks - years really, but I managed to do it again, two more times and get here, ten years later, sitting on the sofa with my tea and my Tivo and a basically whole body thinking that I'm tired because I stood on my feet all day and managed munchkins.

Which is fine. I'm not about guilt-tripping myself or anyone else. Tired is tired and I know I'll have more tiring days, and I'll need more tea and cozy blankets, but it made me wonder about the contrast. If I hadn't known that day giving birth (to the cutest red head on the planet) I wouldn't have a point of reference for today. This might be as tired as I thought people got. I would be at the pinnacle of being run down. And it made me think about who in the world, at this very moment, is exponentially more tired than I am, or even than I was.

It made me wonder when I'm hungry and I'm feeling a little light headed because I forgot to eat lunch or the gluten free bread was so awful I just gave up, I wonder who's really hungry right now. Or really scared and out of control -- more scared than I was ten years ago, and more out of control. Because you know on this globe someone somewhere is truly tired, and truly hungry, and truly scared. And I just said a prayer for them, and for myself to remember, not in a "oh you have it so good quit complaining" sort of way, because I'm a big fan of venting, but just to remember to use how I'm feeling as a trigger to think about the other people out there - like the me from ten years ago that would have given anything to be only this tired.

Happy Birthday, Red!!

2010-12-02T09:49:00.000-08:00

Today my Red Head turns ten!

This is one of those days I'm sorely tempted to break the "I don't post pictures of my kids on my blog" rules, but then I'd need to repent of something or other because I'd be doing it so you could all oo and ah over what a beauty she is and I'm sure that's a slippery slope to gluing false eyelashes on her (not that she needs them, truly) and buying her sequins and being on a reality show about what a horrible stage mom I am. So I'll just say that I've been incredibly blessed with all of my children in many, many ways. One of them being the copper-gold hair I get to look at every day on my little Red. ;) And I've already bragged about her poetry...

I'm having a bit of trouble with the hi hat cupcakes - largely owing to not being able to find a hand mixer. I might go with the Barefoot Contessa's chocolate cupcakes with peanut butter icing for today. That wouldn't be such a horrible switch, would it?

**She loves steampunk, too, hence the steampunk birthday cake that can be found here. Please note that I did not bake her a steampunk cake... but the red velvet is bound to be delicious!

December Madness Begins

2010-12-01T15:24:00.000-08:00

The frenzy that is December in my household has begun. It's my favorite month, and so I've subconsciously worked to squeeze nearly every important event into that month. I've got an anniversary (ok, I chose that one, but originally it was supposed to be September) and two kids birthdays. One of those was supposed to be January, but I involuntarily scrambled some eggs in a magic potion and now he's a December baby...

Anyway - I've got presents bought and wrapped for Red's birthday tomorrow. I ordered a cake, but somehow committed to baking treats for school tomorrow. I'm still not sure how that happened. The next couple of weeks will be a blur of Christmas concerts, holiday hula shows (because everyone does that, right?), Christmas parties, baking, shopping, wrapping, and trying to remember the real reason I'm celebrating *all* of it.

Here's a preview of the cupcakes I'm hoping to pull off for tomorrow*

Also, here's a fun link to the underground caves, dungeon, and apparently bowling alley found under Nottingham. Red really couldn't ask for a better birthday present than that. She's in love with both Robin Hood and archeology. And I'm pretty happy too, because now maybe she won't move to Egypt.

*Compliments of my friend Katrina, the brilliant baker, who inspires me with her recipes.

Happy Thanksgiving!

2010-11-25T11:39:00.000-08:00

Happy Thanksgiving, blog buddies!

I woke up this morning to Mystery Man saying, "You need it open your eyes! You need it stop sleeping! I need it play your ipod!" Well, of course, first things first. I went downstairs to fetch the prince my ipod and found Boop bounding down the stairs in her blue velvet dress.

"What? I got ready early!" She said racing through the house, and Red was already up, though not clad in velvet, and playing the new Zelda game her dad bought her for lo these many snow days we've had.

So I'm off to my aunt's house, through the snow, with a gluten free pumpkin pie in tow, and three enthusiastic little eaters. I'm hoping to round out the day with a Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders: Making the Team marathon and midnight shopping at Old Navy. (My first Black Friday outing ever.)

Sometimes holidays are the times I'm the least thankful, because I'm trying to live up to a vision that I just can't achieve, and I'm exhausted and mildly depressed by the time I give up. But today, I'm trying to embrace my quirky holiday and be thankful for what I have, not what I'm hoping to have. I hope you all enjoy whatever today brings you.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Steampunk flavors and other steamy news

2010-11-16T23:45:00.001-08:00

Did you know Seattle is the Steampunk epicenter? No, neither did I! We've always done goth and grunge particularly well, and we do have an unusual amount of menacing looking crows, but I suppose it's one of those things I've taken for granted along with good coffee and Amazon being my local bookstore.

But, these guys say it's so, and who am I to argue?

In other steampunk news (yes, I'm abusing the word - is it a noun? and adjective? a verb? I'm really not sure) we now have a Steampunk Wiki to answer all of your genre related questions. I just stumbled upon this today and thought I'd pass it on.

I haven't read every page on the site and don't know what the rating level is, so be warned. I'm finding there are many flavors of steampunk. It can lean toward fantasy or goth, it can be set in both Victorian and Edwardian times, or the Old West - and then there's Dieselpunk and Cyberpunk. I'm personally writing a straight Victorian low-tech high-tech sort of steampunk. No Diesel, no goth, and no paranormal overtones, much more in keeping with Jules Verne. It's a re-imagining of Victorian London with a very mechanical nature - I do dabble a bit in alchemy - but everything should be well within the confines of our own laws of physics and such. And I really mean that, not in a JJ Abrams sort of way, either. (Did he think we forgot he said that back in season 2? Really?)

Do any of you have a favorite flavor of steampunk? Or is the whole genre still kind of new to you?

Three P's for Tuesday

2010-11-16T13:26:00.000-08:00

Problem: Boop only wears sleeveless dresses or tank tops and shorts. It is November in Seattle. I basically live in Gotham. One can hardly get away with sleeveless in Seattle in the summertime, let alone November. Every morning she changes her clothes five times till she finally puts on something with sleeves and by then every piece of clothing she owns is all over her floor.

Proclamation: Boop, you need to change your clothes before we leave and it needs to have long sleeves. If you don't come downstairs in long sleeves I am putting every sleeveless dress you own in a box until summer! (cue evil mom music)

Product (yeah, I'm stretching for the final p): Boop is wearing sleeves. Sure, it's a velvet princess costume and they just come past her elbows, but we're calling it good. And yes, I will be going to dance class and running errands with her in tow dressed like a princess from the 1700's.

Hypothetically...

2010-11-10T19:12:00.000-08:00

Hypothetically speaking, you might have a 2 year old son who doesn't eat well...
So you might prepare peanut butter toast at all hours of the day because it's one of the things he will eat...
And you might leave the toast sitting on the counter because when he wanders into the kitchen he'll take another bite...
And you might forget about it, and leave it out until bedtime...
And, hypothetically speaking, you might have a two year old son who doesn't go to bed on time when he takes a nap...
and stays up till *your* bedtime...
and obsesses about turning off all the lights...
So you might be standing in the kitchen, gathering your things, when the lights go off, and you're moving blind and then you might, in you tired state, rub your eye, only to realize, too late, that your finger is covered in peanut butter, and now it's on the wrong side of your eyelid.
And of course you bought crunchy.
Hypothetically speaking.

This evening...

2010-11-05T20:11:00.000-07:00

I told Boop to do some crazy thing like, you know, get down off the kitchen table. And then I told her again, and then I might of gone into intense crazy mom voice till she got down.

Red: Sometimes you just can't fathom moms.
Me: What can't you fathom?
Red: I mean you just can't get around moms' decrees.
Me: Then I think the word you want is circumvent. It means get around. Fathom means understand or comprehend.
Red: Well then you can't fathom moms either.

Sometimes it's just too much information

2010-10-24T23:47:00.000-07:00

Fact: If you watch Dr. G: Medical Examiner, you will at some point come across a case where someone thinks they have a spider bite, when in reality it's Merca - a deadly staph infection that is also a flesh eating virus - and it goes into their bloodstream and kills them while they sleep.

Fact: You will at some point in your life, most probably right after watching this show, get some sort of insect bite.

You see where this is going, right? Let's just say fearing for my life sounds perfectly reasonable right now. But am I going to stop watching? No, much like the "Law and Order Years" when I had to make sure the doors were locked 15 times before bed, I feel like if I stop watching it's like telling the evil virus "Fine, you win!" And of course, I can't do that...

What to be, what to be...

2010-10-21T15:57:00.000-07:00

Boop: Do you have to dress up for the whole day on Halloween?

Me: Well, you have to wear your Renaissance Princess costume all day at school on Friday, but then you can take it off. And on Halloween, you just dress up for trick or treating.

Boop: Oh good. I'm still deciding what to be on Halloween.

Me: Be a princess like you will be for school. (Mom's love costumes to do double duty)

Boop: (sounding concerned) But I really want to wear my vampire teeth.

Me: You can be a vampire princess.
Boop: That's just silly. Who ever heard of a vampire princess! I think I should be a mouse
Me: So you have heard of a vampire mouse...
Boop: Of course.

I'm bragging

2010-10-17T19:50:00.000-07:00

I know, I know, I'm one of *those* mom's. But I'm so, so proud of my little Red. She had to write a poem for school about an emotional event in the book they were reading, Rolf and the Viking Bow. And she chose to write about the tree where a heart wrenching, unjust murder took place. (I am reprinting with the author's permission).

So I share with you her poem: The Tree.

The Tree

A tree of weeping, death, and sorrow
Yet lives to see a morrow.
Where Hiriandi died, and Frodi cried,
Of which Thurid warned and Einar replied
“Be quiet,” and went to bed.

Rolf shot, revenge to make,
Einar’s happiness to take.
A tree of enemies and foes,
A tree of weeping and woes.

To the patch!

2010-10-16T09:54:00.000-07:00

We're taking the kids to the pumpkin patch today, which is really a fall festival extravaganza with rides and hay mazes and haunted houses and trains and food. I might be more excited than they are.

Boop came downstairs all ready to go in her red and white polka dotted satin sundress. I sent her back up to change. This is October in Seattle, after all. It's nice and sunny at the moment, but let's just say that if Noah had built his ark in Seattle, I don't think he'd have gotten any funny stares.

The kids have been scouring the house for my camera (as I think about how brilliant it was to buy the shiny red one - easier to spot in sofa cushions) because Mystery Man likes to wander the house taking pictures of his feet.

Boop just came back down... in her glittered tank dress. I sent her back upstairs.

Mystery Man is walking around muttering because I got him a new pair of boots yesterday and all he can think about is all those boots left at the store. He went to bed dreaming about trying on the rest of them and woke up saying he needs to go back to the store and get more boots. I'm hoping he can set aside the footwear obsession to play at the pumpkin patch.

We found the camera tucked inside my knitting bag. I'm formally blaming the kids for this one, but, it's at least possible that I slipped it in there to stop the photo documentary going on. I'm keeping that to myself, however, well - and the blogosphere.

Boop just came down again. She's wearing turquoise blue leggings, a pink sequin shirt that says "Birthday girl" from her sister's 7th birthday and gold satin opera gloves, but I think we're gonna go ahead and let this look stand. Her legs are covered, after all.

Wish us luck at the patch! Sometimes it's getting ready for the event that's the adventure...

A picture to share

2010-10-09T20:20:00.000-07:00

I found this on The Traveler's Steampunk Blog tonight. Isn't it fabulous. It's not doctored - it's of a German battleship in 1917 with a Zeppelin in the background. Ah.... beautiful.

In other news, my zombie* hot air balloon scene has finally met it's match. And I've moved on to other fun things like pneumatic tubes and silver stallions. I'm about 2500 words from typing The End and meaning it this time. But, they're a tough 2500. Kind of like there's a minute, and then there's a football minute. But I've got good reason to believe I'll be all done while it's still October.

*zombie's not included

Hengrave Hall

2010-10-07T22:36:00.000-07:00

A friend of mine just posted a bunch of pictures from a trip I took in college. I was blessed with a truly wonderful college experience, culminating in a semester abroad with several other English majors. Two professors and their spouses went with us and taught us while we traveled through the English countryside, London, Edinburgh, and Ireland - with a bonus two weeks in Israel at the very end.

And while we were there we had a home away from home called Hengrave Hall. We'd stay for a week or two, then take a trip to London and see 3 shows in 4 days, or go off to Bath and study Jane Austen. But we were always thrilled to return to Hengrave.

I had a room in the second floor that I shared with 3 other girls. The bathroom was in a turret that might have been colder than my refrigerator today, and we had to walk down the hall to find an actual bath. Every radiator typically had a student sitting on top of it to get warm. But it was magical.

At the foot of the grand stairs we had tea every day around 11 - black tea with cream and sugar and digestive biscuits. (I'm gonna have to find a way to make those gluten free, now that I'm remembering this). And although I'm the opposite of a homebody, I could stay there for days without leaving, because it was a community unto itself. We ate there, had class there, walked the grounds, talked to the nuns who lived there year round. And every Friday we all huddled around the one television in a back bedroom to watch Homicide: Life on the Streets together.

I find that Hengrave works it's way into my writing frequently. I'm enchanted with the idea of a big manor house that creates a community within it's own (more than) four walls. I'm also mindful of how life buzzed with excitement, but the pace was so much slower. This was before cell phones were common and the only way we managed email was by me taking my shoddy laptop down to the phone booth in the basement, hooking up my acoustic coupler to the receiver, and huddling on the floor until I heard the beeps stop coming. I did this once at a pay phone booth on a street corner in Ireland. I was dedicated.

But even without all the texting fever we have today, Hengrave was noticeably slower and more peaceful than life outside of it.

I felt quite a bit of culture shock when I landed in LAX after 4 months of that. I've readjusted, clearly, but I'm always mindful of how much I enjoyed life there, and how I loved the closeness of my friends, and the slowness of our days together.

Zombie Hot Air Balloons

2010-10-06T16:02:00.000-07:00

I'm writing the scene that won't die. I thought about putting up a picture of a zombie, but hot air balloons are nicer and it is my hot air balloon scene that I'm working on... perhaps a zombie hot air balloon would be better, but this will have to do.

It's made worse because I know that I only have 3 more scenes to go before I'm done writing. I will need to revise, but I'm way past first draft, so I won't have tons and tons of revising to do - just the smoothing in of these new scenes.

And this thought haunts me. Tugs at my brain. Whispers to me from agent blogs. Allllllmooooost Dooooone! Like Jacob Marley and his chains taunting Scrooge.

I've felt this before when I'm nearly done with something. It's why my dear husband hid the castor oil whenever I got close to my due date and refused to buy me 5 star Thai take out. It's also why my memories of the night before my kids were all born is of me raiding the cabinets to find said castor oil while muttering incoherently to myself. The sane part of my brain knew that if I just waited, I'd have the baby - ok, that's not entirely true, because part of me still thinks they'd have ended up 15 pounds and 4 weeks overdue. But, let's just pretend I was that sane. Am that sane.

Anyway, I'm trying my very hardest to stay sane about finishing the book and not do anything crazy. (You know, like send a query while I'm still working on the ending. Noo......)

I'm thinking there's a life lesson here about patience. And I've got a little ways to go before I fully embrace it. But, here's to trying.

Angry Birds for Breakfast

2010-09-29T12:46:00.000-07:00

This would be super cute all by itself, but it's even cuter because this Angry Bird breakfast was made by a husband for his pregnant wife who is on bedrest and can only eat certain foods. So he started making her food art. :)

* If you don't know what Angry Birds are, type it into your app store when you've got a few hours to waste being addicted to a $0.99 ipod app.
** Photo found at the The Unofficial Apple Weblog

Lessons Learned

2010-09-27T13:47:00.001-07:00

No, not about writing. Though I might be able to reach and come up with some corollary, this is a concrete, practical sort of post about glitter. Because you've all been needing one, right?

Lesson 1) Spilling glitter on a recently mopped floor (Friday) while frustrating, is actually much better than spilling glitter on a yet to be mopped floor (Monday)

Lesson 2) If you (or one of your minions) spills glitter on a sticky floor, the glitter will, not surprisingly, stick to the sticky places.

Lesson 3) If you scrub at these sticky places, you will think you are scrubbing the glitter off, but what you are really doing is scrubbing the sticky stuff off while redistributing the glitter elsewhere on the floor.

Lesson 4) Glitter has excellent survival skills.

Lesson 5) No matter how big the pile, and how much you think it would it would be so much faster to sweep up the pile rather than carry bit by bit of it to the garbage can in wet paper towels... DO NOT REACH FOR THE BROOM. Brooms get up a lot of glitter, but just like that movie where the bad guy's been shot so the hero relaxes and you're shouting "NO, don't put down the gun!" because you can see the bad guy's hand reaching ever so slowly up... glitter sticks to the broom. And will redistribute itself around the kitchen floor (see Lesson number 4).

Lesson 6) If you think you've thrown away all the glitter, check again, and again, and in the bottoms of the art bin, because maybe you just threw away an empty container and it's all hiding at the bottom of the bin waiting for some rushed child to stuff it into a cupboard where it will without a doubt fall on your feet as soon as you open the cupboard.

Lesson 7) Gold glitter actually looks really cool going down a sink because the gold kind of floats on top of the water.

I hope I've helped someone.

This Just In!

2010-09-24T13:55:00.000-07:00

For all of you mourning the loss of Lost, a new J.J. Abrams show has just been picked up starring Terry O'Quinn (Locke) and (Ben Linus). Yes, I was planning to Tivo Undercovers (the J.J. show airing this fall) and I probably still will, but it wasn't exactly looking like my sort of show. True Confessions: I never saw Mr. and Mrs. Smith. Or if I did, I've forgotten, which is pretty much the same thing.

This one is a dramedy about two ex-black ops agents called Odd Jobs. Seems kind of fitting to have the two big baddies from Lost as leads. So, you've been warned. Set your Tivos!

Boop on Old Folks

2010-09-24T12:34:00.000-07:00

Boop is very nervous whenever she hears a siren. She's afraid someone called the fire department to tell them our house is on fire and she just doesn't know it yet. So I started pointing out that sometimes it's a police siren, and sometimes an ambulance. We live near a couple of retirement homes, so ambulances cruise by a lot. And I have to tell her, it's not coming for you (she fears perhaps she's sick and doesn't know it), it's probably going to the Old Folks' Home.

Which gives Boop something new to worry about - how the Old Folks are doing. So the other day she told me,

"I think about the Old Folks a lot. More than you think. Like all the time. Just because I can't talk about Old Folks doesn't mean I'm not thinking about them. I mean, it would be rude to say, 'Hey, you, you're gonna die soon,' which is what you mean when you say someone's an old folk. But they're always in my head and I pray for them. I pray that they will have a long, long life."

We might just need to move somewhere with fewer sirens...

Clockwork bike

2010-09-22T16:19:00.000-07:00

I'm working on the epic motorbike race in my WIP right now and thought I'd share these pictures of bikes made from watches. At first, I thought they were full-sized bikes, then I looked closer and saw the little numbers. ;) Aren't they fun? I thought I might need one myself, but then realized that what I really want is a really good scene. So, back to the WIP I go, and I'll just click over to these for inspiration if need be. :)

For the Win!

2010-09-21T21:31:00.000-07:00

Yes, I won something! And I'm really not gloating (maybe just a little) but mostly want to send you over to a really fun blog about being a teenager in the Nineteenth Century, called Nineteen Teen

I am, of course, linking you to the post that announces that I WON something. Again, not to gloat, but so that you'll find out what beau-nasty means. I promise you'll start incorporating it into your everyday language. I think chick lit authors everywhere should be messaged and told about this fabulous old word that's ready for a dusting off.

Also, I'd like to point out that the blog is run by Marissa Doyle and Regina Scott. Just go ahead and click on Marissa's name and look at the beautiful gaslamp lit street. Ooooo, ahhhh...

Back to school colds

2010-09-21T20:23:00.000-07:00

Getting sick when you go back to school is as much a tradition, it seems, as picking out a new binder and sharpening pencils. Right now, Red is down for the count, with Mystery Man looking a little punky. Boop is holding strong out of sheer will, but we'll see how long she lasts.

I thought I'd share the note Red sent down last night when she was wondering if enough time had passed to have some more Tylenol for her poor, sore throat:

Has it been an hour yet?
It sure feels like it's been one.
A MISERABLE one at that!
Help, somehow, please!

-From a Fed-Up Red

My children are all so understated.

Detectives and Dickensian Mice

2010-09-20T13:28:00.001-07:00

I thought I'd give you a preview of my latest knitting project. Isn't he adorable? This isn't mine, this is Jen29 from Ravelry but I just bought the pattern and should have my very own soon. I'm also planning to do some Dickensian Mice and a little Chimney Sweep. They help me stay in the right head space for my book when I can't actually be writing.

Right now I'm about 10,000 words and one particularly sticky decision away from finishing. I should be able to knock that out in a week - or rather, one week from when I figure out my plot point. It's kind of like getting a knot in your knitting. Or, you know, when your 2 year old pulls all the stitches off your needles. Not that I'd know what that feels like...

Steampunk Inspiration

2010-09-16T14:25:00.000-07:00

I just want to share some of my Steampunk inspiration today. Some of these images inspire scenes in the book or just help me get into my steampunk mindset so that I can write Johnny Steam, my WIP.

Tunnels: Yes, poor Johnny spends a little time underground

And I always love a good rainy picture with an umbrella (it's so fortunate I live in Seattle)

Steampunk Coffee: of course! Also, this picture is from The Steampunk Tribune. I've just discovered it and am adding it to my steampunk links to the right. --->

And who knew you could buy Steampunk perfume?!

Enjoy!

Milk Woes

2010-09-15T17:08:00.000-07:00

I got the milk order form today and was suddenly really happy I only had one kid in school over lunch time. You know, milk really adds up over the course of a school year. So, I'm asking my 4th grader if she wants white or chocolate when Boop pipes up that she'd like chocolate.

Me: Honey, you don't get milk at school because you don't stay for lunch, but I'd be happy to give you chocolate milk at home.

*long pause while Boop processes this unfortunate scenario*

Boop: I really want you to kick me up to Kindergarten.
Me: I'm not kicking you up to Kindergarten so you can have milk at school.
Boop: No, really, I want the challenge.

Other than the horribly unfair milk situation, school is off to a great start. Red, the 4th grader, is studying the middle ages so she has a suit of armor in her classroom named Bob that gives the instructions for the day by way of the white board. And Boop had a fire drill today. She's very concerned about fire safety, so this was huge for her.

I know better

2010-09-13T23:39:00.000-07:00

Sometimes when I'm writing I'll hit a tough spot and click over to a web page - facebook, email, it happens. I shouldn't, but I do. I can live with that. But sometimes, in a particularly weak moment (like five minutes ago) when none of my friends are updating with anything clever, I'll click on Petfinder.org and look for my dream dog. This is dangerous, because I inevitably find my dream dog. And sometimes he's an adorable standard poodle/Irish Wolfhound mix named Starbucks.

Don't you all agree he should be mine?!

Remembering

2010-09-12T15:27:00.001-07:00

As I'm catching up on my blog roll I'm reading lots of posts about 9/11. Especially about remembering. I've read lots of lovely and some chilling posts, but there's one thing I wanted to add to the chorus.

I don't know anyone who really believes we're at war with Islam. We've all got Muslim friends who were just as grieved as we were when those towers went down. But that doesn't make the evil of that day go away, because that's what it was really about, just plain good and evil. And we saw evil in sharp relief when the smoke rose out of those twin towers.

But we also saw an awful lot of good, really heart-wrenching, heroes of old kind of good, and I think when we remember, we need to remember those heroes. Remember that there was a 4th plane that didn't reach it's target because of some brave people on board, including a kid from Wheaton with a young wife who became a widow. That there was a 60-something year old man who stepped off the last elevator going down from the towers because there wasn't room for a young woman. So he got off, saying he'd had his chance to live and she should have hers. That the firefighters went up the stairs while everyone else went down.

At least, that's what I mean when I say I'll always remember.

Back to school

2010-09-10T15:56:00.000-07:00

School started this week. That picture over there is my happy face. And this year, Boop starts Pre-K. So far she's been so excited each morning she can't eat breakfast, and has lots of ideas about her uniform.

It's always a little bumpy getting back into the school routine. For instance, the girls have to go to bed and actually turn off their light instead of staying up all hours reading. So last night, when I went up to check on them, Boop bounced out of her room and flipped on the hall light saying, "What do you think we are - nocturnal?" I believe she was trying to tell me she couldn't see in the dark, which is of course the point of sleeping, as I explained to her, I hope patiently, but probably not.

The Mystery Man and I are getting our exercise in the morning, having coffee together, and then we each have our computer time. I'm writing the final chapters of my Steampunk book and MM favors his Thomas the Tank Engine online games, and this very strange massively multiplayer game for toddlers featuring a kid on a skateboard as an avatar. I think it's Danish. At least the robot that walks you through it has a European accent that I can't quite place. I should be working in some more regular blog posts during our three free mornings a week, too.

Steak and TV

2010-08-12T21:54:00.000-07:00

My husband and I were fortunate enough to be treated to dinner at the Metropolitan Bar and Grill the other night. It's a fabulous steak house in Seattle and I'd never been. It was a warm summer night, which is a fabulous time to be walking around Seattle, the restaurant was beautiful - all deep woods and shiny brass and little green bankers lamps, and the steak was amazing. I mean, after the first bite, I felt like it was a crime against nature for beef to ever be prepared any other way. Every other good bite of beef I'd ever had paled in comparison. I might as well eat chicken. Or fish. And I don't even like fish. If I'm not having steak at the Met.

Which is also why television is dead to me. I'm a big fan of good television. Big. I love tv. I actually prefer it to film, usually, because it's there for you every week, ready to hang out, not flitting in and out of your life for a brief two hours with everyone else in the theatre. And yes, I despaired some for the fall lineup after losing lost and 24, but I had some things I still watched - Bones, The Mentalist, Lie to Me, a smattering of "reality" television.

And then, on a whim (and at the prodding of my mother and sister) I turned on The Good Wife. And much like the steak at the Met, I can't watch anything else. I didn't even watch the finale of SYTYCD, and for those of you reading this blog last summer, you know I love SYTYCD. I tried to watch Lie to Me. Nope, still like Tim Roth, but I was bored. Tried to watch Top Chef. Eh. It's gone the way of Red Robin hamburgers. It's just bleh.

So now I need something new to do with all my time. Something besides staring at my Tivo menu willing a new episode of The Good Wife to spontaneously appear. That doesn't work, by the way, but now I have an honest answer to the "what would your super power be" question.
(You can keep your vampires and werewolves, thank you very much)

Closets and Carousels

2010-08-07T21:21:00.000-07:00

Have you ever set out to clean your closet, then ended up with all the clothes (and other odd items that always seem to end up in closets like broken fans, Nordstrom bags, and books on HTML) strewn all over your floor in your attempt to make things better? At this point I'm really hoping you have, or not only will this whole analogy fail but I'll have to reexamine my life if I'm the only one to have ever done this.

Assuming I'm not.. I'll continue and share that this is pretty much what's happened to my book this summer. I thought the middle needed tweaking. Then I thought I'd just take it out and rework a few things. Then I rewrote certain chapters again and again, with all sorts of different directions until I had a big tangled mess all over my bedroom floor, er, computer screen. (though my floor could actually use some work, too.)

Fortunately, I went to the zoo this week, with the kids, and they rode the historic carousel and I started to see a way through the mire. Did you know some carousels, wooden carousels no less, were steam powered? I won't detail too much here, but suffice it to say the carousel is my equivalent of going to Storeables and loading up on plastic bins.

The photo above is from a new favorite place on the web called Curious Expeditions and details this still operating steam powered carousel in the Netherlands with horses that face perpendicular to the circle, and are mounted on springs, so you're constantly rocking out toward the edge as the ride goes in circle - and puffs steam. Yes, the Netherlands has just sky-rocketed on my list of places I must visit!

Wash and wear

2010-08-03T23:02:00.000-07:00

You know when you go get your hair cut, and you say you really need a style that you can just wash and wear, and, sure, your stylist will work with you, but you get that little look from them like, "Geez, you can't take the time to dry your hair. Haven't you seen Oprah? You're not supposed to let yourself go. But sure, wash and wear..."

To which I offer this morning's events. I took a shower. Boop, Red, and the Mystery Man (who is also a cowboy, I'm not sure I've mentioned that here. He has a real, authentic cowboy hat, cowboy boots that he wears everywhere including the beach, and most recently, a cap gun), they were all downstairs basically content.

Then they aren't. I stick my head out of the bathroom and shout down to them. Then realize that while I've made a strict rule not to point the cap gun (rifle, really, and about as tall as Mystery Man) at any living thing, including siblings, I had neglected to forbid anyone from holding the rifle by the butt, then running at their siblings till they shrieked and whacking them on, well, the butt. I'd left out this particular instruction and Mystery Man was taking full advantage of the loophole. So, I put a stop to it.

Then I return to the bathroom and begin drying my hair. After about thirty seconds, Red pokes her head in and says,

"The level of urgency of this matter has greatly increased."

And there went my hair.

Children of crime writers aren't normal

2010-08-01T16:42:00.000-07:00

**

DH and I took the troops to the Arboretum this weekend - my little adventurers love trekking through the woods with "rations" (as Red calls them) in their packs and walking sticks in hand. I, of course, carried a latte.

As we were passing a particularly wooded area (or as Mystery Man calls it "the Deep, DARK, WOOOODDDS!"), the following conversation ensued,

DH: I've matured so much as a father
Me: Really?
DH: Yes, because in the past, I'd have told a scary story about what lurked in these woods. But now, I know better.
Kids in unison: AWWWW, why won't you tell us a story!
DH: Because it's better to have your last moments be happy and just go quickly if you're gonna get eaten.
Boop: I'm gonna live a long time, longer than you, probably even longer than Red.
DH: Why?
Boop: Because I'm younger.
Red: Yeah, but someone could take an ax...
DH: STOP!

** this is the little lake where we stopped to let Red sketch and Boop and Mystery Man fight over sitting on a rock.

Link Roundup

2010-07-25T19:28:00.000-07:00

Imagine my delight when my cousin posted this link on my facebook page: Dark Roasted Blend. What could be more fun than lattes *and* steampunk? I've been checking out the motorcycles today.

Also, one of my blueboarder friends posted this link. Sourcebooks is hosting a contest where you can go vote on the cover for her next book. I love covers!

It's a sunny day in Seattle, so I'm going to try to take my little mysteries outside so we don't turn into little urban vampires. I've got one kid that loves splash parks, one that claims to be too old for parks, but likes to explore the trails, and one little cowboy who won't take off his boots or hat - which makes splashing a little difficult. So I'll need a little magic to keep them all happy. Which of course means I'm headed to Starbucks first.

Steampunk needles and bluefaced sheep

2010-07-19T09:00:00.000-07:00

So, I'm still knitting. I found some great square copper needles that feel very steampunk to me. I can't tell you how much fun it is to click copper needles together while you knit with something yummy like baby alpaca yarn and think about what tragedy is going to befall your poor character next on the road to redemption. And as I type that, I'm not exactly sure what that says about me, but so be it.

As you may have already picked up on - I can't seem to just go to Michael's, pick up some yarn, and knit a scarf. Nooo... I have to research and research and fall in love with a yarn in some super squishy merino wool that moves from midnight to prussian blue in the same skein. And it's always spun by some lady in a little stone cottage in Scotland that sells it at a farmer's market. Or Australia. A lot of my new favorites come Australia.

So I was drooling over Bluefaced Leicester wool - called the poor man's cashmere, but really by "poor" they mean upper middle class with lots of discretionary funds - and Boop walked up and saw the cute little sheep it comes from.

Boop: Oh, I wish we could get one! I think we could get a sheep. We'd just need to go to a special store. We had one once.
Me: No we didn't.
Boop: Yeah we did, you know it ate everything.
Me: That's a goat, and no, we never had one.
Boop: Red said we did. When she was little.
Me: We had a German Shepherd.
Boop: Yeah, that's what I meant.

But I don't think you can make yarn from a German Shepherd.

It's up!

2010-07-15T10:49:00.001-07:00

Mystery Robin has gone steampunk. ;) I've been having so much fun researching steampunk for my work in progress, that I wanted to change the feel around here. I'd love to know what you think!

Stay tuned...

2010-07-08T11:16:00.000-07:00

Just a heads up that the blog is undergoing a mini-makeover. I get lots of good feedback about the design and I promise it won't change too much. But I decided it's time for a little more of a steampunk feel. :) So hold onto your parasol and stay tuned!

A little Boop

2010-06-16T09:19:00.001-07:00

Boop is eying the drapes that separate the eating nook from the kitchen:

Boop: Mom, if we untied those drapes, we could make the bench a stage, and the table could be for the audience... do you think we could get 55 people around the table?

Later, that same day... I hear a lot of bouncing and commotion on the back patio.

Me: Red! Is everything ok out there?
Red: *sigh* Yes, I was just teaching Boop how to play basketball. But now she's calling it baseball and she's teaching me.

Steampink story up!

2010-06-11T10:34:00.000-07:00

For a sneak peak into my steampunk WIP - go take a look!

Steampink Week

2010-06-09T17:31:00.000-07:00

The lovely Velvet Van Buren, book blogger extraordinaire, is hosting Steampink week on her blog.

In her words, steampink is: female heroine stories with romance, adventure or mystery in a steampunk world.

All week (and I'm a little late in posting this) she has a virtual trip in a steam car complete with fiction from steampunk authors, recipes, and an all around atmosphere of Victoriana.

It's lots of fun, and I have a story going up (an excerpt from my work in progress) on the 11th. I hope you'll stop by and take a ride with me. ;)

Knitting again

2010-06-09T16:16:00.000-07:00

Every once in a while, I feel overwhelmed by words. I love words. I love reading. I love writing, but sometimes I need my hands to do something other than vacuum and clean the kitchen. I used to knit but took a break with babies always on my lap.

But lately, I've felt my fingers itching to hold some needles. Last night I searched for the perfect pattern.

Perhaps it's my love of crime fiction that makes me want to knit this:

How fabulous is that! But, sadly, I'm not really good at following charts, so I'm making a little newsboy cap in a luscious midnight blue alpaca with strains of copper on square copper needles. If it turns out, I'll post a pic while I'm done.

At the very least, it'll keep me company while I'm watching the Vegas callbacks on SYTYCD tonight. ;)

The Apron Campaign

2010-06-03T17:38:00.000-07:00

This woman adopted a dog from a shelter, a beautiful cocker spaniel, and now he needs surgery. So she's making custom aprons so she can pay for it. I'd been planning on getting an apron from Anthropology, but then along came these... at The Apron Campaign.

And you'll love the story of her cocker spaniel, Jake.

Now I've got Red and Boop debating fabric choices with me. :)

The Slithery Barbara Poelle

2010-06-03T08:10:00.000-07:00

Public Service Announcement for all my aspiring writer friends. The Slithery Barbara Poelle (and if you don't know why I'm calling her that, you aren't reading Janet Reid's blog) is offering a 10 page crit over at CJ Redwine's blog.

http://cjredwine.blogspot.com/2010/06/interview-with-barbara-poelle.html

Enjoy!

Pet Slugs

2010-06-03T07:50:00.000-07:00

Boop: Mom! There's a bug on the floor!
Me: EW! That's not a bug... it's a baby slug! It must have come in on your brother's boot. (From when he was standing on the front porch this morning in his lion shirt and cowboy boots begging to help take his sister to school.)
Boop: I like lookin' at slugs, can we keep it in a plastic jar?
Me: No. (I go get a plastic bag on my hand and grab a paper towel, because DH has chivalrously taken Red to school today since I am sick. So, slug duty is all me.)
Boop: Is it comfortable having a baby slug in your hand? (as I carry it outside at arms length)
Me: No.
Boop: Can I just watch the baby slug out the window?

She's now crouched down by the window next to the door keeping an eye on her pet baby slug.

Three cheers for research

2010-05-18T07:58:00.000-07:00

Just a few of the things I've been looking into, lately:

1) Did you know Sir Arthur Conan Doyle took a break from Holmes to write about Professor Challenger and his exploits chasing dinosaurs?
I'm immersing myself in the genesis of steampunk right now, and since my 9 year old stole my copy of Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea (and, of course, I was happy to let it go to such a good cause) I'm ordering this book. I can't wait!

2) I've been trying to figure out how to get my airships to plausibly carry larger loads. I know, "plausible" takes on a new definition in alt history, but it has to make sense to me. Enter... vertical airships.

I love that someone is trying to build these. Sign me up for the maiden voyage! Well, maybe the second voyage.

3) And back issues of Popular Mechanics are my new favorite thing. I found out that the professor who built a plane using cycloidal propulsion taught right here at the UW. It's like a plane using rotors out the side instead of wings and the rotors move like egg beaters. It's supposed to provide phenomenal lift. I'm not sure why we aren't all flying around in airships with rotors right now.

In which Robin applauds National Geographic

2010-05-14T09:41:00.001-07:00

I don't typically sit down with a catalog and flip through the pages slowly, savoring every picture, calculating in my head when and if I could ever afford the things inside. Not usually. But then we got the National Geographic Expedition catalog.

Why yes, NatGeo, I would like to take a Family Expedition down the Amazon river to find pink dolphins, exotic butterflys, and let my kids play soccer with the local children. A train through the Swiss Alps? Absolutely! A manor house in the French Countryside? Sign me up!

And when Kara Dio Guardi cries because a (cheesy) song is sung so beautifully, or Mary Murphy breaks down over the breast cancer dance - I just don't get it. I truly don't. But my eyes did tear up when I saw this picture of the Lukula camp in a private reserve in Tanzania - designed to replicate the spirit Africa's early explorers with lush Victorian furnishings and textiles. It looks like Amelia Peabody would be right at home.

Sometimes it's just nice to know these places exist.

Lemon Bars with Boop

2010-05-10T10:30:00.000-07:00

My lovely DH made me lemon bars for Mother's Day. He makes a mean gluten free lemon bar... they're so good in fact that I begged him to make them on Saturday, as soon as he'd announced his intention to make them for Mother's Day.

The kids helped - here is some ensuing conversation:

Boop: What is your most favoritist ingredient in lemon bars?
DH: Well, they're all important, so I don't really have a favorite.
Boop: So, lemon?
DH: No...
Boop: But they wouldn't be lemon bars without the lemon!
Red: You could make strawberry bars!
Me: I don't think that would really turn very well
Red: Ok, lime bars then
Boop: Would you use the lion's blood to do that?
(group pause)
Me: Not LION bars - lime bars.
Mystery Man: Roar!

Beep. Beep. Beep.

2010-05-07T19:19:00.000-07:00

I'm pretty much back in the swing of things. I do have a few observations regarding my hospital experience, which, by the way is not ever going to be easy when you have allergic reactions to anesthesia, pain meds, and surgical tape.

I felt like my first nurse, the one that got me all prepped, was extremely thorough in telling me what to expect. I nodded and smiled and was grateful for all the information, and really, there was a lot of it. But I came to discover that she missed one small detail.

After the bubbly anesthesiologist that my doctor called "Sunshine" gave me the "I don't care medicine" (her words, not mine) I got a little woozy, then BAM I'm in a different room, shaking, sick, all the lovely symptoms of post-anesthesia. And my recovery nurse is doing her job and making sure I'm not brain dead. And she's getting ready to move me to my room when I manage to squeak out of the raspy throat (that I *had* been warned about) that there's something tragically wrong with my legs.

She looked at me, concerned. So I croak out "They're INFLATING!"

Not to worry.

Apparently that's all part of the plan. They put these giant blood pressure cuffs on them to keep you from getting blood clots. Which is fine, I am not a fan of blood clots. But it's really something I'd liked to have known so I didn't think they were going to explode all over the hospital room. And that had occurred to me.

I made to my room, in and out of lucidity, and my lovely husband brought me a latte - the nurse said it wasn't really on my "clear liquids" diet, but "eh." Yes, "eh" was her response. I sipped it, warily, wondering if "eh" meant that she could deal with one less patient so go ahead and drink the latte, see if she cared. Or if it meant that they weren't all that committed to clear liquids. That's one way to suck the enjoyment right of a latte. But it did taste wonderful, what I drank of it. So, after my coffee, lots of checks on vital signs, and a whole day of insisting I really didn't want pain meds, I got to go to sleep.

They turned out the lights. I turned off American Idol. And then the room lit up blue. I thought maybe I imagined it. Closed my eyes. Tried to think sleepy thoughts.

BLUE!

After a while I realized the computer screen blinks every fifteen seconds or so. How is this not an issue? I'm pretty sure it could have brought on a seizure. I reconsidered the pain meds. I called for my nurse and thought maybe if they took these squeezie things off my legs, since they weren't inflating anyway, that would help.

Oh no, oh no! They should have been inflating! He couldn't believe I'd been squeezie free this whole time. So, he plugged the machine in. Great. Now I'm sleeping with a blinking room and inflating legs. Inflate. Deflate. Blink. Inflate. Deflate. Blink. And then... the machine started beeping. One big loud beep every 5 seconds or so. And then the blink.

Beep. Beep. Beep. Blink.

Inflate. Deflate.

Beep. Beep. Beep. Blink.

Maybe I could sleep through it if I just... nope. I called the nurse. A different one came in.

"Why are you squaking at me?" She was talking to the machine. I suggested maybe I didn't need the squeezies. Nope. Impossible. She stopped the beeping... and I waited.

I waited till I thought she might be busy with someone else then, lo and behold a third nurse came in to take my blood pressure - in my arms. And she agreed that perhaps she could take the squeezies off till four in the morning. VICTORY!

Of course, they forgot to put them back on and I worried about blood clots the whole next day. I got really serious about getting up and walking around to ward them off.

But, so far, so good. ;) I seem to have survived the whole experience. And now you know your legs won't explode when you wake up from surgery, should your nurse forget to mention the squeezies.

Thanks for all the well wishes while I was down and out! I should be blogging more regularly again. :)

Logic need not apply

2010-04-29T18:31:00.000-07:00

DH is still running the show here for a few more days. Tonight at dinner time...

Boop: What are we having for dinner?
Daddy: Jambalaya
Boop: I had that once in Japanese and I didn't like it, so could I have a peanut butter sandwich?

See you soon!

2010-04-19T23:24:00.000-07:00

I'm going to be offline for a week or two - I'm getting some health issues that I alluded to fixed, and I didn't want you all to think I'd just disappeared.

I will leave you with a few conversations had around the House of Mystery:

Boop: I tried to keep the sun from going down the other day. Most people don't know that the sun follows you - or you follow the sun - so I went out to the backyard when it was very late and looked at where the sun was going down, then ran all the way to the other side of the yard to keep it up!
Red: Um... I don't think that really happened.

At prayer time, DH talked about Jesus being God, and also being born by Mary.
Boop: So did Jesus just look at Mary, snap his fingers and say 'that's my girl?'
DH: Something like that...

Me: Well, I made it to 39,050 words - my goal was 40K before I went in on Tuesday, but I'm close.
DH: So, if you just wrote 950 more you'd make it?

I made it. ;) Yay for 40,000 words! And I'm bringing my book on the history of dirigibles with me to the hospital. :)

Halfway, baby!

2010-04-16T23:55:00.001-07:00

I'm halfway through the first draft of Steam. Wahoo! That means I'm tracking to my goal which is the first time I've ever done that with a novel. My little "about" box always said when I was planning to finish the book, then people would ask me about it, and I'd have to change it. I think once I just let it ride from one Christmas to the next. ;) Outlining is a wonderful thing.

So is Page Four. If any PC users out there feel like their head is gonna explode trying to write a novel in Word, I suggest Page Four. You'll love it. I can jump around between chapters now, and merge them when I need to, and search for overused phrases and do a word count of all the chapters even when they're in separate docs - no more word count math! Plus, always good to keep the brain firmly in place inside the skull.

Right now, I'm on my deep sea creature scene, so I've been watching Deep Blue Sea with the kids (they love it!) and looking through books about the deep sea trench. I'll leave you with this picture of a cuttlefish from my new favorite blog, Aqua Marine Discovery. Cuttlefish are cephalopods, like octopus and squid, but kinda cute, intelligent enough that you can train them to do tricks in their cages, and they do fun things like communicate by changing the color of their bodies. There are days that sounds like a fabulous idea. Green for 'sure kids, have another piece of candy' and red for 'if I hear you ask me for that one more time...'

Oops.

2010-04-12T22:07:00.001-07:00

So, yesterday I crunched my toe against some stairs. It's purple. I'm wearing my crocs in the house to create some barrier between the ill-fated appendage and my 2 year old son who thinks I'm a jungle gym. This, unfortunately, causes a buildup of static electricity. So every time I touch something, I shock it. And me. What's really cool, is grabbing a pinch of salt from the salt cellar and watching it turn into a snow globe.

The morale is, if you see me coming... don't shake my hand.

It's Friday...

2010-04-03T23:54:00.000-07:00

I’ve got pork in my crock pot for Easter brunch which is fairly optimistic, considering the sick little boy I have tucked into my bed upstairs. There’s been a lot of sick around here lately. The kids have been passing some bug back and forth, and I’ve been battling some ever present health issues. Which makes it sound like I’ve got my feet firmly planted, a shining weapon in my hand, and a Clint Eastwood-esque grin on my face. I’d love that. In reality health issues are more of a long, wartime march through hostile landscapes with paltry rations and shoes that don’t quite fit. More Frodo, less Dirty Harry. But my march is starting to wrap up, I think. And as I laid next to my feverish little guy tonight, I thought of the phrase “it’s always darkest just before the dawn.”

That feels like a way to stay hopeful in the middle of the biggest battle, or longest march - like if it’s this bad, it must be getting better soon. But it’s kind of an empty promise, because how do you really know this is as dark as it’s gonna get? When you feel like you can’t convince a kid to take one more spoonful of medicine, you can’t write one more word, you can’t haul yourself out of bed one more time, you can’t tell your daughter to stop putting her hands in your other kids pockets and falling on the ground so her sister will drag her around like a zombie... or maybe that last one’s just me... you assume dawn’s coming.

Tomorrow Christendom celebrates the brightest dawn we’ve ever known. But the way we say it is, “It’s Friday, but Sunday’s coming.” And it helps me to remember the guys who just saw their best friend and brightest hope torn to shreds and mocked and killed ein front of everyone that mattered. It helps to remember that they must have felt absolute grief, mixed with fear, mixed with despair. And despite being told, they didn’t get that Sunday was coming. And when it did, it was spectacular.

He is Risen.

A few quick comments

2010-03-25T11:52:00.000-07:00

The inmates seem to be running the asylum today, so I'm just going to dash this off before I take them out for their daily airing.

1) It's R&B week for American Idol next week. I'm gonna go ahead and admit that I am not a fan of R&B - not even a little bit. I suppose I do like Aretha Franklin and the Isley Brothers who are on the official list, but I'd have called them something else. Maybe I just don't like modern R&B, but I'm anticipating lots of overwrought vocals on songs way too big for the people singing them.

Is it too much to hope for that someone sings This Old Heart of Mine? Please?

Here's the list of approved songs if you feel like making a pool for who'll pick what... not that I know anyone who might do something like that...

2) I'm officially 1/4th of the way through my first draft - even a little over. Yay.

3) It's raining. But this is Seattle, so that's not really news.

4) Boop just asked for breakfast. This will be her third breakfast. Although I suppose by now I could call it lunch.

5) If you don't hear from me again, the little people have tied me up and thrown me in the closet. If it were going to happen, this is the day for it.

Happy Ada Lovelace Day

2010-03-24T19:26:00.001-07:00

Today is the official Ada Lovelace day. Sadly, my kids didn't get the day off of school. ;)

She's famous for being the only legitimate child of Lord Byron, for being the first computer programmer, and for being the Queen of Steampunk.

Charles Babbage invented the Analytic Engine back in Victorian England, basically an analog computer, and Augusta Ada King, Countess of Lovelace wrote the programs. Now, this was all theoretical, because the computer didn't get built, but oh the possibilities.

She's a really nice tie in to Steampunk for me, because I've studied Byron with such love and devotion. I still think the best sort of hero is the Byronic kind.

You can read more about her at Finding Ada, if you're so inclined.

Herding cats

2010-03-19T16:42:00.000-07:00

It was a little hectic getting the three monkeys out the door this morning. In case you're new to the blog, my kids are 9, 4, and 2, so only one goes to school, but of course I have to get them all fed, dressed, and out the door at the same time, since leaving the smaller two at home alone is somewhat frowned upon.

I had to get up extra early this morning, because Red made me promise to go over her Latin with her before school. So, I'm already dragging through what is arguably not my most alert time. I got breakfast made and lunch made, filled the water bottle, went over memory work and sent Red up to brush her teeth and grab her sweater.

Down she comes - hopping on one foot. I should add that in the pick up line yesterday she rolled her backpack to the door while hopping on one foot - a recess injury to her knee, apparently. I have no idea how her teacher kept a straight face through the afternoon, or if she did.

I certainly wasn't going to let Red hop through her day unless she legitimately needed crutches.

"Red," I said, "let me see your knee."
"Ugh, it doesn't look as bad as it feels!"
"Let me see - ok, so, here's an idea. I want you to walk the length of the living room, and if it hurts so bad you can't stand it, I'll let you hop for the rest of the day."
Red walks.
"So?"
"Well, it's the weirdest thing - it hurt before I started hopping, but now it seems fine."
"Funny how that happens."
"Jeans!" Mystery Man has found his jeans. Sadly, they are the 18 month size that I can't seem to get rid of and they come down to his ankles. I try to hide them and find the 2t jeans.
"Red, go wait for me in the bathroom and I'll brush your hair."
"Fine."
"Ok, Mama will find your jeans."
"Backpack!" Now he's trying to roll Red's backpack out the front door. He insists on carrying (rolling) her backpack everywhere for her, and getting her doors.
I go into the bathroom to brush out Red's long curls.
"OW!"
"Hold still!"
"You know what I weally need?" Boop walks in wearing blue velour yoga pants half an inch too short and a pink sparkly t-shirt with a crown on it.
"Bump its!"
She has a pixie cut - after the whole, 'I can cut my own hair' incident.
"Ok, well, let you hair grow, and we'll talk - hey, where's Mystery Man?" And he's waiting impatiently on the front porch in his jammies.

I'd like this story to have a really happy ending where I'm sipping a latte, but, I strive for truth in all things. We came home and I tried to teach Boop how to ride a two wheeled bike on a patio, instead. :)

Boop paints

2010-03-17T09:09:00.000-07:00

To Mystery Man: Alright, alright, if you want to paint go ask Mom. I have to focus here!

To no one in particular: I never knew what a good artist I was. I mean, look at that!

Pretty sure this one was for me: Uh oh. The cat has paint on her tail.

The last piece

2010-03-15T19:34:00.000-07:00

DH and the girls are putting a puzzle together. My feeling on puzzles is that if you wanted to look at the picture, why did you cut it up into 500 pieces to begin with? So I'm in here. As far as Boop is concerned, a puzzle is all about putting in the last piece, so she grabs a piece, then waits for her Dad and sister to put the whole thing together before coming in and laying down the final piece with a flourish - because if you can't do it with flair, it isn't really worth doing, right?

I have an affinity for the last piece also, but you do have to trudge through the beginning and middle before you get to type "The End". I just crossed the 10,000 word mark, so I'm feeling like I have a real book on my laptop. Or at least the first seventh of one. ;)

Update

2010-03-13T08:30:00.000-08:00

The cookies turned out great. Mystery Man pulled a chair up to the counter where the plate of cookies sat and said "Yum!" I think he had cookies for lunch - and possibly much of dinner. But they're gluten free, so they're a health food - right? Plus the bananas...

I'm at 8000 words on Steam. Guess what - when I outline, I write faster. Who knew! All this planning and plotting I'd so easily dismissed with the first two books might have it's place after all! Might this extend into the rest of my life? Could I possibly consider writing a to do list? Let's not get crazy. I do keep eyeing those Circa planners at Levenger, though.

I've got a new favorite clock: www.voco.uk.com/

Yes, I was a little distressed at the results show on Thursday. Michael Slezak says it best (and if you're not following his blog and vlog on ew.com, you're really only seeing half of American Idol)

We've endured the sadistic pillorying of Angela Martin, we've swallowed our disgust at the sight of Kara's rogue left shoulder rubbing hungrily up and down Simon's torso... which is why, for the past few weeks, we've looked to a ragtag group of 24 singers to reassure us that Idol's still got a little life in it yet...that it's not yet time to leap off this carnival ride, shrug our shoulders, and shout ''Thanks for the memories!'' as we run full-tilt toward that monster rollercoaster the British guy with the deep V and the sunburned chest is erecting on the other side of the fairground. And that's precisely why each abysmal voting result tonight stung so badly.

Good writing gives me chills - wherever I find it!

A few things

2010-03-11T11:50:00.001-08:00

Just a few random bits as that's how my day is going:

1) Mystery Man had his shots today. He can now take down rusty nails with nary a backwards glance, but... he's a little punky.

2) I'm choosing a steampunk wall clock. Vote on your favorite! http://www.cafepress.com/arcanetimes/3703315

3) I'm about to go make some gluten free banana chocolate chip cookies, but I'm collecting supplies for these: http://www.georgehart.com/trilobites/trilobite.html

4) Red is at her speech meet right now reciting The Ballad of Robin Hood. She has her heart set on a superior ribbon. She's been practicing a ton, which means Boop is now walking around reciting things about Robin Hood and every once in a while MM will throw in a line. They do it with a lot of feeling.

5) Could someone please tell me why a show like American Idol that must rake in a few bucks can't afford to buy Kara a chair that's big enough for her whole body? It's disturbing the way she always has to sit on half of Simon's.

Now, off to make cookies with my little minions**...

** DH interjects that they don't do my bidding enough to be minions. He says Red is just getting to the stage where she might be an evil henchman, but just barely.

When editing goes wrong

2010-03-10T09:14:00.000-08:00

When you write, you have to make choices. Put this in, leave this out, shape the scene, prune out the excess so that the whole has more impact. You might leave great stuff on the cutting room floor, but you do it so that you achieve your goal, you move the reader along, you leave them with something to remember.

Most of the time if you can cut, you're better off cutting. The piece is better without it. It hurts a little at first, but it's best in the long run.

But sometimes, you're writing a blog post, and you wanted to say something like this:

"Kara's 'I'm married' speech the other night would have had a lot more impact if she weren't practically sitting in Simon's lap. Kara - you are not Paula! Could we please put Ellen next to Simon instead? Or Randy? Of course... maybe they'd end up in his lap, too."

And then it's like American Idol reads your mind.

Misunderestimated

2010-03-06T14:34:00.000-08:00

So, I'm watching American Idol this season - I've been hit and miss with it over the years, but since they added Ellen (and she rocked SYTYCD) and it's Simon's last year, I'm committed this season.

Here's my take so far.

The guys aren't memorable. I'd go so far as to say perhaps the producers stacked the deck because they think they need a girl to win this year. It's hard to believe those were the best 12 guys in America. I'm pretty sure I've got a 17 year old cousin who sings better than all of them. (You know who you are!)

Big Mike is kinda memorable, but loses any points he might have gained for not being at the birth of his child. Of the 3 or 4 possible reasons one might miss the birth of their child (death, debilitating accident on the way to the hospital, out on a fishing boat earning the money to buy the milk to put in the baby's mouth) trying out for American idol is not among them. If this was the big plan to support your baby, I suggest brainstorming a plan B.

The girls are pretty good - but the season belongs to Bowersox. The rest may all go home now. You're welcome. I just saved you all a lot of blood, sweat, and tears. Special consideration may be given to Siobhan Magnus for A) choosing a Chris Isaak song and B) being unlike anyone I've ever met, seen on tv, in a book, or even thought about making up as a character. Even Simon seems flummoxed a bit. And we all know that's hard to do.

Speaking of which, I did feel sorry for the cute 16 year old who keeps sounding like she's 30. Did you see the episode when Simon winked at her, then they asked her who she listened to that was under 20? And all she could say was "Uh..." She should have just been honest and said, "I'm sorry, Simon Cowell just winked at me and obliterated the last several minutes. I can't even remember my name. I didn't create a world in which Simon could wink and create a tear in the space time continuum, I just have to live in it."

But all she could say was, "uhhh..."

Lipstick and top hats

2010-02-28T22:56:00.001-08:00

Well, I finished outlining through chapter 10 which is hopefully a bit more than halfway. And yes, tonight I'm writing about steampunk top hats. :) And just *wait* till you meat my airship captain!

In other news - I took Boop and Red to Sephora today - which meant 45 minutes of "Boop, put that back. Hey wait, what's in your basket? Don't knock over the display! Oh, it was Red? Well, I'm sure she was just helping you..." and culminated with me washing lipstick off her ankle when we got home. To say that Boop in Sephora is like a kid in a candy store is both cliche and doesn't convey nearly the frenzy or bliss that come over her when surrounded by rows and rows of lipstick. It's almost chemical.

In her defense, it's hard to sign letters with a kiss if she doesn't have her own lipstick.

The flu, zombies, and clockwork horses

2010-02-27T19:10:00.000-08:00

I just came out of a twelve day fog of stomach flu/bronchitis fun. Here's a bit of inside information - if you stay sick long enough, you can be ill while one kid throws up, gets better, then starts throwing up all over again - not to mention the other two. But, I've finally risen from my stupor on the sofa and am back in the land of the living.

Which reminds me, I just finished The Forest of Hands and Teeth by Carrie Ryan. When I mentioned something about my zombie apocalypse book to my husband he looked so happy. He loves a good zombie. This book got a lot of buzz and is a great story - more somber than kick a$$, in the world of dystopia, and kinda creepy. But as Boop said today, "Being scared is part of life." (after Mystery Man got his hand caught in the refrigerator door.) Full of sympathy, that one.

Gonna try to get to the halfway point in my outline tonight. I'm anxious to get back to writing -so for now, I'll leave you with this taste of the chapter I'm working on:

(oh yes, that's a steampunk horse)

Throwing Mama a bone...

2010-02-18T22:49:00.000-08:00

Just before bedtime prayers, DH asks the kids if they have any requests.

Boop's hand shoots up, "I want to pray that I grow up just a leeeetle bit faster."

"Oh, no why would you want to do that?"

"So I can get married sooner!"

"Well," I say, "Mama really likes you being just this age and I'd be so sad if you got bigger any sooner than you did."

"Ok, time for prayers," DH says.

"Can I pray when you're done?" Boop asks - because of course this is her way of making sure she gets to pray that she gets bigger and gets married next week.

"Sure," DH says.

So, when he's done, she says, "Dear Jesus, I pray that I grow up just the right amount because I want to get bigger, but Mama would be so sad if I got big all at once. Amen."

Thanks, Boop. :)

More on the Vampire Trend

2010-02-16T15:56:00.000-08:00

My kids were playing out in the backyard while my dad was pruning things. Then, Red comes running in.

Red: Grandpa's bleeding!
Me: Does he want a Band aid?
Red: No, he's gonna get one when he comes in.
DH: Ok, did you drink his blood?
Red: EWW! No!!
DH: Because it's perfectly OK to drink a relative's blood.
Red: I am NOT drinking his blood!
DH: Here, do you want some of mine? Red: DAD! No!!!
ME: Hey - you're gonna traumatize the kids
DH: They'll grow up traumatized anyway, it might as well be over something funny.

Boop, oblivious to the tableau she's interrupted streaks through the house: I'm not going back outside till Grandpa stops bleeding!!

Cloudy with a chance of...

2010-02-10T22:07:00.000-08:00

Red comes in while I'm cooking dinner to say, "It smells good, even though it's meatballs."

"Why don't you try it? Maybe you'll like meatballs tonight?"

"Nope. I don't like sculpted meat."

She had soup.

Steampunk ID

2010-02-10T17:08:00.001-08:00

I have no idea what this is. But I love it!

Anyone want to play name that steampunk gadget?? Send me your ideas!

Glad we're paying for that education...

2010-02-10T17:04:00.000-08:00

An excerpt from shopping for dresses the other day:

Me: Let's all hope I can find something that fits
Red: "Hope is the thing with feathers, that perches in the soul. And sings the tune without the words and never stops at all."
Me: Thanks. That's very helpful.

Holly's Day

2010-02-09T14:08:00.000-08:00

Please go read about my friend Holly's day.

But first, set down any beverages, especially coffee. Or you'll be replacing your keyboard.

The Winter Ball

2010-02-08T21:07:00.000-08:00

The day started with me frantically realizing I needed to de-Mom my car because we were supposed to bring a friend with us to the ball. I carried in bags of stuff that the kids seem to have enough hands to take out to the car and never enough hands to take in. Then, I took the girls to the gas station to throw out any old Starbucks cups that may have been missed (it happens) and vacuum it thoroughly.

I left Mystery Man at home. He's afraid of car vacs. The girls hid in the back. Did I mention I'm dieting - my fabulously researched yogurt and hummus diet - I'm not kidding. So my blood sugar may have been a tad low. And Boop saw the quarters for the vacuum and her eyes did that thing in the cartoons where they spring out of the head and then back in.

It only takes one quarter to buy a bouncy ball at Old Navy. One quarter and all of my sanity because of course the floor of Old Navy is cement and the clothes racks have just enough space for one bouncy ball to get trapped under.

But I digress.

We vacuumed. We went to Old Navy. We got bouncy balls. I tried on everything in the store, realizing that while I'd made sure the kids had lovely outfits, I had nothing. It's the stay at home mom version of Cinderella.

Sadly, Old Navy had nothing for me. I went across the street to Nordstrom's Rack. I tried on 9 dresses in a dressing room with both girls who begged me to get a long tank dress that looked like smudged lipstick, but it also made me look like a baked potato, so I declined.

I headed back home to find Mystery Man waiting on the front steps with DH for me. My heart breaks a little every time he does that.

We got in, I made two dinners - one for the dieters - one for the kids who don't seem to care for yogurt and hummus. Then we dressed for the ball.

The girls put on their fancy Christmas dresses, I managed to cobble something together that involved my high heeled leather boots - note, this is not a good strategy for dances taking place in gyms - and Mystery Man put on his jeans, cowboy boots, and plaid flannel. Because if you watch enough hours of Gilmore Girls your little boy will come into the world wearing a backwards baseball cap and plaid flannel.

We found out our friend couldn't come with us and much crying ensued as the girls begged me to bring her. But, try as I might, I couldn't turn the cat into their friend any more than I could turn a pumpkin into a clean car.

We manage to get the girls buckled in and stop the tears by the time we arrive at the school. I meet up with a friend in the parking lot while DH got the kids out and the girls sprint ahead for the gym which is when DH leans in and says,

"Did you see Boop's shoes?"

Huh? What do you... oh no.

My friend doubles over laughing. Boop's in her black velvet and gray sparkly Christmas dress with... blue fuzzy crocs.

DH said, "I heard her say something about wearing different shoes than you picked out, but I didn't know what that meant."

"At least she's comfy!" My friend says. Mmm hmm... I should have worn the crocs because my feet are already killing me at this point and I'm trying to figure out how Boop's gonna do the Virgina Reel in hers.

Inside the gym, things start to settle down. We all five do the first dance with Mystery Man trailing along behind, threading the needle like a pro. Then we break for cookies. DH is about to ask Red to dance the next dance with him, when a sweet little 9 year old boy walks up to her, holds out his hand and says,

"Would you like to dance with me?"

"Sure!" She said, and he escorted her to the floor. DH's eyes got really big and I might have melted into a puddle. His mom winked at me.

We rushed off to the chairs in the corner for a better view. They danced adorably, then at the end, he took her by the hand and escorted her back to the other corner of the gym where he'd asked her to dance. DH sprinted over there to receive her. More of me melting into a puddle.

Then the girls wanted water. I offered to walk them into the lobby for water. When I got back, DH asked where Mystery Man was.

Uh oh.

We had just enough time to panic before we heard a loud wail from the other end of the gym and saw a lovely Senior carrying him to us. Mystery Man does not like to be carried about by strange girls. Even lovely 18 year olds. (Good Mystery Man!) He likes his mama. Which is what he told the rest of the gym LOUDLY for the next 20 minutes. I tried walking him outside. I tried walking over to our friends. But MM would only be comforted by chewing on his shirt. Flannel's nice like that. He's been a comfort chewer since I took the binky's away a few weeks ago. Suddenly, he realizes his shirt is wet and disgusting and with a loud grunt he rips it open, Incredible Hulk style. Fortunately, this was the shirt with snaps.

Now he's wailing, half naked, and I'm holding a soggy shirt. It's time to go. I collect our things and see the two girls are still dancing, so I take me keys and hobble to the car in my high heeled boots with MM over one shoulder screaming and his wet shirt in my other hand. I buckle him in without a shirt and he's still screaming something new.

Finally I realize it's "Back." He wanted to sit in the back. Guess who's not even remotely considering moving his car seat to the back row.

Then the girl's jump in - Boop saying "That was the most confusingest dance ever!" And Red looking down at the ground and muttering when I ask her how her dance was.

But the kids slept like rocks that night and I got to be the hovering mama instead of the nervous girl at the ball. It's not quite fairy dust, but it's close.