Category Archives: Random

RAFTS

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What do you call that texting shorthand that relies heavily on abbreviations (RU OK?) and initials (BTW/KWIM)?

I just came up with one I think is original, and whether or not it is, it is supremely appropriate for me: RAFTS

As in, Random Advice From a Total Stranger.

The internet seems made for this: we’re all throwing out RAFTS at some time or another, me (I suspect) more than many.

So there you go.  If it’s new and spreads across the net (“Hope you don’t mind RAFTS, I was just hoping it might help”), you’ll know where it started.

Or you’ll laugh at how slow I am to catch on. {shrug} As long as it’s not in my face…

7 Quick-Takes (Vol. 8)

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~ ~ 1 ~ ~

I’ve specialized.

It is a recent realization, and just now that feels a great deal like saying I’ve “settled.”

I’m beginning to understand that 50-, or 70- or 80- year old who says they still feel like they’re 20 (or 40).  I feel like I know things.  And on some level I always will.  But I’ve got to realize I’ve gotten beyond being equally wonderful at everything I do.

On one level that should be a good thing– because it illustrates that I have committed to and developed something, that I’m no longer a “jack (Jane) of all trades master of none.”

I see I have a distinct edge in writing over all these other areas, and the (should be) obvious result means I need to expect not to be as good everywhere as I am in my best subject.

But I still feel like that 50-something guy who, from his 45-degree angle of pain, was advising my 30-something husband: “Once you hit 50– don’t try to keep doing it all.”

And I keep thinking, I ought to be able to do all this.

Sorry, Mike, if you’re reading this.  That low-ceilinged room with its mediocre florescent lighting *really* sapped my confidence when it comes to being a good photographer.  I can’t help thinking if I did pictures like I do writing I would have figured out some solution.

~ ~ 2 ~ ~

Finished an absolutely perfect-for-now book this week: The Healer’s Keep.  The reasons I liked it are listed on my reading page.  (If you’re not following the progress of my novel those specific details probably won’t interest you.

I’ll take no offense ;) .

~ ~ 3 ~ ~

We are looking at a record-breaking snowfall in the last 24/36 hours.

I know 9-inches isn’t much compared to what has been happening elsewhere, but Fairbanks is essentially a semi-desert in terms of precipitation, so this is unique for here.

And maybe it counts as unique that there’s no such thing as a “snow day”  here; no days off of school or work because of the snow, even today.   (Though we have had ice days in the past.)

~ ~ 4 ~ ~

I got to hold a little baby last Sunday.

I wondered if I’d get “baby fever” or feel sated in some way, but neither happened.  I got to enjoy a little person, give Mama’s arms a break and was ready to return him when Daddy came to collect.

I was surprised to think it was the first baby I’ve held for long since Elisha was born, and this sort of makes sense; I would have been holding (or resting from holding) him up till now.

~ ~ 5~ ~

My novel wants to grow again, but I’m trying to be very selective about how much I allow.

I told Jay I was uncomfortable with 87,200 jumping so quickly to 96,000 and he blandly observed that “It’s gotten long enough to be a real novel now.”

~

My background in journalism makes me inherently mistrustful of increasing word-counts.  So this has been an. . . interesting process

I cut more than 1,000 words last night, and felt relieved to do so.  It was growing too fast with all the storylines getting added back in.

That said, I’ve just remembered another section that will (in some form) get added back in.  A useful “misunderstanding” scene (in the RomCom tradition), that is resolved before the end of the scene but creates more problems even as it’ s resolved.

Worth keeping according to my math.

It’s funny, too (at least to me), and I should snatch up anything I can in that department.

~ ~ 6 ~ ~

My home has been maintained in remarkably good order for more than a week now, but I felt very tired yesterday and almost couldn’t do the upkeep.  My own desk area is totally trashed– books and papers piled everywhere– and I’m finding that very draining.

I like having books to hand (there’s a whole shelf six inches from my left elbow), and looking at a cover while I type about the book is only natural, but I have always derived a sense of calm from open spaces and my perfect nook begins to feel too small in this state.

~ ~ 7 ~ ~

This week I’ve talked with the kids about definitions.

  • Like the term help, as in, “Can I help, Mommy?”

We have completely different understandings of that word.

To them it means, What you’re doing looks like more fun than what I’m doing.  I want to do it too.

To me it means I expect to get something useful out of your action (Even if it’s simply a teaching opportunity).

~

So when they say “I want to help,” and I say, “Great, you can do X,” they might fall apart with, “But I want to do Y!“

If it’s not time for Y, or Y is distinctly too complex for the askers, they’re not willing to hear it; and I won’t budge for whining.

  • All their lives I’ve used the phrase Low voice to convey what I want from them audibly.

That is, I don’t just want an “indoor voice,” I want to train them to speak also with a lower pitch.  Well, somewhere along the line our expectations have missed each other, and they’ve stopped hearing the bit about pitch.

And when I’d say quiet, they’d translate that as quiet*er*.  The whole thing was making me nuts, really.

I’m not on the phone much, so when I am, I expect the kids to let me talk and save their non-blood issues till I’m off.  I’ll say quiet, and while they’ll stop shouting at me, they’ll not quit talking.

So finally, today I lined them up, made them keep all eyes on me and I catechized them on the difference between Low voice and Quiet.

Haven’t had opportunity to test it yet (like I said, I’m not on the phone much) but I expect we’ll review today– along with pitch.

It is a bit embarrassing to be constantly reminded that, well, constant reminders are useful.

One theory I have on this is that every time something is repeated or reinforced, it’s digging that synaptic path a bit deeper into its groove, making more and more likely to stick.  I hear (read) this is what happens when a kid is learning to walk: they do the same thing over and over and over until the brain takes over and just does all the complex work so well  the walker no longer remembers how complex the process of upright movement really is.

~

I am really looking forward to the times when certain elements of behavior are blessedly thoughtless.

For me and the children.

For more 7 Quick Takes visit Jen’s Conversion Diary

Other 7 Quick Takes on Untangling Tales

Learning Humor

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I *really* don’t want one more more thing to investigate– one more thing to learn– but, like I mentioned a while back, I’ve always wondered if I could learn to be funny(er).

Two examples of my inherently serious nature/demeanor:

  1. When the kids were younger and growing more verbal, one of the girls asked me, “Why is your face angry?”  I realized I was concentrating on something and she couldn’t tell the difference between that and angry.  I tried to soften my expression and excuse it by saying, no, Mother wasn’t mad, it was my “thinking face.”  The explanation obviously sank in because they asked several times over the next few weeks, “Mama, are you thinking again?”
  2. My children have made it quite clear to me that it is the role of men to be “silly.”  Mommies and Grandma’s are most-definitely not silly.  (And, most of the time in this family, they’d be right.  I come by most things naturally.)

I was vaguely troubled by the realization that so much of what we find funny comes out of anger (sarcasm, slapstick, thwarted expectations), so I was both relieved and delighted to come across another example of humor in the book I finished a couple weeks back.

Gladwell used improvisational theatre as an example of topic of instant-processing and discussed what made it successful.

In the course of this discussion he compared improv to basketball– pointing out the parallels of working within a set a rules to know how to respond to the people around– while you want to win ultimately you want to keep the game going.

Actors working together on an improv have to agree to a set of rules before they begin in order for the piece to “work.”

The rule that Gladwell emphasized in particular:  One must accept everything that is offered.  The unnatural state that invariably follows can hardly help being funny.

“Think of something you wouldn’t want to happen to you or to someone you love,” wrote Keith Johnstone, one of the founders of improv theatre.  “Then you will have thought of something worth staging or filming… In life most of us are highly skilled at suppressing action.  All the improvisation teacher has to do is to reverse this skill and he creates very ‘gifted’ improvisers.  Bad improviser block action, often with a high degree of skill.  Good improvisers develop action.”

~

“The humor arises entirely out of how steadfastly the participants adhere to the rule that no suggestion can be denied.”

In those two summaries– essentially by looking cross-genre– I understood better than I ever consciously did before what to do when I’m looking for a story.  I’m not just trying to be a sadist (though that frequently helps), and I’m not strictly looking instantly for conflict (I’ve complained before that feels like a cheep shortcut).

That is, I’m not looking to instantly make it as huge as possible– two immovable forces– because then, despite its hugeness, it will stall.

In reading the book’s examples of following or not-following the rule, I remembered my one semester of high school drama.

I was most-definitely a blocker.  There was only one improv over the whole semester I was in that went well (probably because this rule was never articulated), and that one should have humiliated me, but it didn’t.  It might have been the only time that semester I was in complete “agreement” and had locked-in with my classmates.

In that moment, having “clicked,” I got a taste of why kids will do stupid things for their peers.

~

There was a near-psychic unity of purpose that frightened me just a little: we were dancing on the edge of “inappropriate,” but winning, and I mistrusted myself for being able so easily to align with those whose character I didn’t trust.

It wasn’t until my senior year in high school that I fully “relaxed” enough to see my peers not as subversive tools of an oppositional force but young humans swimming after purpose and focus the same me.  Until that point I felt resistance to them was part of resisting sin.

On some level this makes me sad– that I spent 2 ½ years on high-alert (approaching fear) of my age-mates– but on the other hand I sometimes think that schooled mistrust was what (ultimately) kept me safe until I developed greater discernment.

And so I’m recognizing that my kind of being funny has a lot to do with trust, because until I trust that a situation is “safe” I don’t relinquish control.

Jay and I (like most couples) have our own humor that hinges on things like looks and lines half-spoken or left unsaid.  But invariably they depend on one person taking a fall trusting the other one will catch them.  That sort of mutual dependence feeds itself, growing stronger and deeper the more times it’s proven.

One becomes “ingrown,” perhaps, but that becomes delicious: “your own brand of magic,”

the quips, the witticisms, the slant
adjusted to just a few, those loved ones nearest
the lip of the stage…

their response and and your performance twinned.

The jokes over the phone.  The memories packed

in the rapid-access file…

(from Perfection Wasted by John Updike)

This is where my (other) favorite kind of humor comes from– for those times when there’s just not enough brain to be witty, but there’s certainly enough heart to play.

7 Quick Takes (Vol. 7)

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~ ~ 1 ~ ~

On Wednesday I was up early and knew I was close to finishing my story.  I felt as restless as a cat looking for a place to have her kittens.  I was agitated at not being able to finish what was so close, and ended up cleaning the whole house.

As in: the whole. house.

  • Both bathrooms
  • all the floors
  • playroom
  • bedrooms
  • laundry washed
  • 3 dishwashers run and emptied

I had called and griped to Jay earlier in the day: frustrated at having to wait, and very close to nagging at him to give me more time.  When he came home he was more than impressed.

He took the kids the rest of the evening and it was that night I reached my ending.

~ ~ 2 ~ ~

With a clean house I am a better mom.

Yesterday I let the kids paint until their projects filled the whole table with their drying.  Today I could say yes when they asked to use playdough.

When the house is cluttered (and stuff is dried on the table) I never let them use all the cool stuff I’ve collected for them to use.   So this has been fun.

I read aloud more when the house is clean, too.  I’ve just, well, like I said, been a better mom.

~ ~ 3 ~ ~

Jay and I give the children our one-sided pages for their artwork.  Yesterday on the back of their painting I found a page of my original-original novel (as in, I couldn’t find the passage until I went back to my roughest draft) that addresses an issue I’m working out now.

Namely, how to make the Hero more interesting than his foil.

It also brings in a secondary character who (I’d made a note about) needed to be introduced earlier for better context.  I read the back of the paper with great interest, making mental notes about where it belonged and what to change.

When I came back out of my office/bedroom I saw Natasha turn over the painting and read the page.  I started loading the dishwasher and she looked up, startled.  “Is this from one of your stories?” she asked.

~ ~ 4 ~ ~

I’ve fallen off the wagon.

That is, I’m buying books again.

It started innocently enough, as it did last year: buying for the children’s schooling.  Then finding several $2 books that I really wanted for my reference shelf (analyzing folk and fairy tales) then picking up the used books that fit my collection, just because they were available and would cost twice as much new.

Once I’d gotten that far I just shrugged and figured I’d blown it.  So I’m back to normal.

And normal’s okay for me.  I guess that’s what makes it normal.

~ ~ 5 ~ ~

Having just returned a couple weeks ago from my uncle’s memorial service, I am thrown for another loop by the news of another man in his early 50s who died just last night.  One of the deacons in our little church.

We got a call as the hospital was doing CPR, and I was shaken by the horrid feeling that I was entering that new life-stage I had only vaguely been aware of 5 years ago, where you start watching friends die.

I remember being delighted with the awareness that I was so much in the “adult” group now that I was making friends with other adults– some old enough to be my parents.  Sure I’d been friendly with adults my whole life, but it was like they always knew they were doing me a favor (or that I was doing them one) because we weren’t of the same clan.

And now the down-side.  I get to outlive people I love.

Really stinks.

Then I have to wonder what it was like for my Grandpa living longer than many of his friends or, like I’m reading about just now in Numbers, the Israelites loosing a whole generation (a good million people I’ve heard it estimated) in 40 years, and that would be around 68 deaths a day.

So I get a little perspective (“Everybody dies,” my girls chirrup every time we watch Enchanted), and I’m not nearly as morose.  But I’m still sad, and I think that’s okay.

Paul said we need to know the truth about those who die, “so that you will not grieve like the rest, who have no hope.”  But I take that to mean not that we won’t grieve, but that we will grieve with hope.

We grieve for ourselves, and our loss– and while realizing that makes me feel incredibly selfish, it’s not really going to change my behavior much, other than I’m trying to shift my feelings to think more of the family and their loss: recognizing whatever I feel is nothing compared to them.

~ ~ 6 ~ ~

When my dad’s dad died I was 14.  The thing I remember most is watching my parents from the back seat– my mom’s hand on my dad’s leg as we drove the unfamiliar town my where my Papa had lived.  And the words my mom used to describe that time.

I don’t know when I actually heard them, but they’ve defined my feelings so many times:

You see that pain someone is feeling, and you start to put yourself there, wanting to share their loss, or understand what they’re feeling– but it’s too much.  It’s too painful, and you have to pull back.

~ ~ 7 ~ ~

I’ve been comparing European fairy tales and Greek myths this week (looking at episodes from The Storyteller series is what prompted this chain of thought).

And have you noticed none of the Greek myths really end well?  Really.  I can’t think of one that ends well (feel free to correct me).

I began thinking that this could have something to do with Christ.

The Greek stories all pre-date him, and center on a time when the best men could hope for or imagine was more powerful versions of themselves.  Humans felt knocked about by the world and never knew where or how they would land.  Human folly irreparably destroying lives.

The fairy tales, by contrast, have just as much folly and trial and tears, but rooted in a world where the Church had gained great influence there is always the founded hope that the end will come ’round right.

This relief of “happily ever after” (or at least, an ending moment of peace– which is more common if you actually run the numbers) is what ties me so tightly to the Tales I love.

To me it is a reflection of the hope and promise of heaven: that after enduring all trials, through obedience and because of a power beyond ourselves, we have the assurance that will never again be alone or in need.

It is a hope big enough to carry us through every pain and loss.

For more 7 Quick Takes visit Jen’s Conversion Diary

Other 7 Quick Takes on Untangling Tales

A Mental Riff

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Leaving aside for a moment the question of these statements’ accuracy…

I wrote this mostly because I want to post something after a crazy-stressful week, and I feel both silly and serious.

~

This topic kinda did it for me.

I started a new book tonight– absolutely fascinating so far– and one statement got me following a winding track.

“Comedy comes out of anger, and interesting comes out of angry; otherwise there’s no conflict.”

–Hollywood producer Brian Grazer

Two thoughts came connected to that.

  1. So that’s why I’m not funny.  I’m not angry.
  2. This is a distinctly American observation.

One day at a library (actually, I was trying to map my climax’s time line and picked the wrong section to sit near– fat spines with enticing titles far too easy to read from 6 yards away) I picked up a book about comedy and the introduction observed that the humor of Great Britain and the United States are two entirely different animals: the British emphasis seems to be more on word-play, while American humor is distinctively violent.

Why do we laugh at slapstick, anyway?  What’s so funny about watching someone get beat up?

And that makes me wonder about an AP article I read about the difficulty of translating American comedies for the international market

The article was unfortunately poor– only one example, if I remember correctly, and it was of a comedy that was a flop even here at home, so I couldn’t understand the significance of it being a loser overseas.

{shrug}

Anyway, I’ve often wondered if there was a way to learn to be funny.  And now I’m wondering if there’s a way to learn different cultures’ funny the way you try to learn their mannerisms or gestures to match their language.

That would be so awesome– one could work at meshing the different types of comedy in the regions referenced in your story, and see how much could be amalgamated with the culture where the story is being told…

And, okay.   I’m done now.

Hope your week is more peaceful and less-hectic than mine was last week.

What Church do You Go To?!

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A snippet from a crazy dream this morning.  I spotted all sorts of references to my past, but will spare you all by jumping to the funny part.

Toward the end, when I’m scrambling to get on the same page (literally) as everyone else in the meeting:

I’m about to curl up under all those condemning eyes (how dare she think she’s worthy to be among us when she can’t even find the same page?!) and beg the person next to me to show me his page or help me locate mine.

He flipped over my set of pages and I recognized the words were a very accurate match, but the format was redone in “landscape” rather than portrait and written in pencil.

While I was still puzzling over this and insisting the meeting could move on, Yes I can follow along now, the leader pulled the papers out of my hand and after looking at them asked, horrified, “What church do you go to?”

And I knew with that dream certainty we all have that someone had to hand-write my packet because we couldn’t afford a printer.

The absurdity struck me even in my dream and I tried to correct him but was laughing too hard to speak.

Can you think of a worse church-volunteer position?  I honestly can’t:

Come quick Mary!  Another e-mail just came in– we need to get a hard copy to the pastor right away!

All of this is even more ridiculous considering we don’t have any kind of church office/equipment or hours anyway.

7 Quick Takes: Indoor Living Edition

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Unlike many Alaskans I equate “wintertime” with “indoor time.”  So with that as a theme here’s a look at my extreme indoor week (season).  Figuring largely is the classic case of knowing what you ought to do, if not necessarily how.

~ ~ 1. Meals ~ ~

We’ve gone through 3 gallons of milk this week.  Jay told me that is normal, but this is the first time in recent memory it’s been three fresh gallons.  I hadn’t really noticed if this was our rate before.

I’ve been trying to use stuff off our shelves– canned, dried and frozen stuff– so meal-planning has taken longer.  I’ve twice this week fallen back to “stand-bys” like sandwiches and frozen foods.  Since these don’t have left-overs I used our huge supply of beans to make a chili for Jay’s lunches.

The bonus with this system is that I don’t have to eat beans– or make my kids eat something I’m not interested in eating myself.  Definitely going to remember this.

~ ~ 2. Dog ~ ~

With a high-energy dog like my Lab, being stuck indoors can be a little tense.  I was thankful to see that she’s not the type to beg for walks at -40°, but even without wanting to be outside her spring is still tightly wound.

She’s been gaining weight for about a month and a half now (short-hand for “no-exercise”) and while she’s done well up till now I feel she might be reaching her limit.

Fortunately I just got re-motivated to focus on her training, and I’m told that should help.

~ ~ 3. Children ~ ~

The kids are actually easier to keep entertained than the dog, especially when you add movies to the mix.  Jay has a T.V. tuner in his computer and a series of programs he combines to record certain Saturday morning cartoons and remove the comercials.

The delightful result is a collection of sweet and fun options without the discontent- and consumer-training interruptions.  Other activities:

  • Games
    • Risk– I can’t stand it, but Jay plays with Natasha– essentially by playing himself but letter her move the pieces.  She feels so grown-up and is *thrilled* when she wins.
    • Rummikub is one I like better.  Practices pre-math skills like grouping, matching and sequencing.  Not that I thought of that before we started.  It’s just the game that has the best memories for me.
  • Running.  Yes, seriously.
    • I think every house with kids should have a kitchen island.  Before nap-time a couple days ago we put on some “wild” music (some high-energy stuff from Riverdance) and chased each other around for a chunk of time before storytime.  Totally confused the dog, but the children and I found it head-clearing.

~ ~ 4. Exercise ~ ~

The running is some of the only activity I’ve done in the last week.  Despite all my options… (here comes the YBH: yes but how) finding other elements of my day more important and engaging just crowds this out.

I find once I start I enjoy all sorts of things that work well in my living room:

  • Pilaties
  • Free weights
  • Running (with the kids– as I already mentioned)
  • Indoor walking (silly concept, but okay for what it is)

~ ~ 5. Housekeeping ~ ~

Being confined to house makes maintaining the home a higher priority.  We’ve been working at this since Christmas and I’ve been relieved at how we’ve been doing.

Having a solid half of our clothes outdoors has helped with this, along with the rearranging that gave the kids an area to play, and (more important) a place for everything to go.

Vacuuming is remarkably easier with floors kept clear… but yesterday I began bringing in bags of things and putting them away.  Having the drawers full again makes me realize how *much* we have, and what we were able to (almost comfortably) live without.

If things get harder to keep up with we might have to think about thining back again.

~ ~ 6. Writing ~ ~

Writing has simply got to be the easiest hobby for mothers, and I’m so glad to have it.

  • There’s no clean-up
  • You can work on it while you do pretty much anything else
  • It can be both a means of escape and remembrence– two contradictery things I appreciate as a mother
  • You’re already used to sleeping less because of your true children, so staying up for a beloved project seems only natural

~ ~ 7. Other fun indoor things we’ve done ~ ~

  • Music (both to make and to listen to)
  • Playdough
  • Baking
  • ***Reading***
    • We want to see if we can work through every children’s book in the house before the end of winter.  At least, that’s how I pitched it.  My ulterier motive is to provoke new favorites so I’m not reading the same dozen all the time.
  • Crafts
    • stamping
    • card-making
    • anything with scissors paint or glue (though these I seriously limit)
  • Including the kids in dog-training (a whole new dynamic, there)

More 7 Quick Takes At Jen’s blog.

7 Quick Takes on Untangling Tales

7 Quick Takes for the New Year

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~ ~ 1 ~ ~

Looks like it’s going to be another chilly entry into the new year: -30° and colder since two days after Christmas, and a bunch of highs near -40° through at least next Monday.

Anybody whose been complaining about your winter weather can be reminded now: It could be worse.

I’ve lived here most of my life, am very content indoors and we rarely have much wind on these cold days– So “it could be worse” even for me.

For example, this could (and has!) happen(ed) during a week when Jay had to drive to work each morning.  Thankfully he has this week off and we can hibernate if we so choose.

And the best part is a week of this and I’ll have no qualms about bringing in all the bedbuggy stuff still outside.  (Jay says he does, though, so I’m not sure what will happen.)

~ ~ 2 ~ ~

My “big” resolution, or goal, or… whatever you want to call it:

Nothing new this year.  Not even books– used or new.

This means not starting any new projects in 2009.

By contrast, in 2008, with an already-full life, I

The natural result of “nothing new” is no recreational buying.  No buying “on spec” (my gift shelf is well-stocked, my kids’ grow-into boxes ready, my homeschool books boxed and waiting.), and maybe even no buying without a list.

That last detail’s going to take more thought.

It means finishing the projects and books I’ve started (and bought to start), and training my mind to think first of what I have– even before the Library or other borrowing– because this isn’t first about saving money.  It’s about re-training my thinking.   The purpose of the exercise is to shift my thinking from “outward” and “exploring” to being more home- and contentment-centered.  Satisfied.

I have told myself I can buy books this year once/if I finish what I’ve already bought, but considering I’ve glutted myself a bit in the last two weeks, leading up to this challenge, that is even less likely to happen than is was last year when I tried the first time.

It is sobering to re-read that post and know my goal is exactly the same a year later.  But I also know that I made choices that led to discarding the effort, so (Lord willing) I’ll make a more purposed attempt this time around.

The first thing is to not go into a bookstore– because I *will* find something I’d like to buy (Yesterday I made sure to empty my B&N gift card and buy the one book left to complete the last of 2008’s series’ collecting).  The rest I guess I’ll figure out as I go along.

~ ~ 3 ~ ~

I just introduced the idea of “chore charts” to the kids yesterday, and made one for myself as well.

Since I felt it would be either overwhelming or depressing to actually list everything I must do, I just made a 3-point chart for me:

  • Read Bible
  • Exercise
  • Brush dog

I like having such a short list to look at; especially since I sometimes make serious to-do lists on the side.  My three little stickers at the end of the day feel so fulfilling I have no questions about why this works for children.

~ ~ 4 ~ ~

Starting the book Opening Your Child’s Spiritual Windows tonight raised a lot of questions in my mind.  Most about the nature of my relationship with my children.

Slantwise about the legitimacy of my writing and my desire to read so much YA fiction this year.  I (mentally) compared Fire Arrow with OYCSW and can see the value so much clearer in the second.

But unless I feel the call to write being withdrawn (which I haven’t) I have to assume they both are important.  Not because I expect FA to change my life (as OYCSW might) but because I need to be faithful to develop the skills God has called me to build.

~ ~ 5 ~ ~

I forget now where, but recently I read someone who insisted the way you become a better writer is 50% by writing and 50%  by reading.

Thinking on the implications of this I determined to keep it “before my eyes” (hence my massive reading goals).  I want to keep this in mind, because if I let my approach to the craft slip too much into writing alone (however important I know that practice to be) I fear I’ll fall into an underlying arrogance; that I might imagine I can improve simply from within, without external input.

And that goes against everything I say I believe.

~ ~ 6 ~ ~

My reading list– all books (though not all the books) that I have waiting on my shelves– is in my new right-hand column.

I have a new page listing what I’ve finished, what I’m reading, and a few thoughts on each as I go along

No reviews here, and no spoiler-warnings either: just the notes I want to keep for myself, and they won’t be spoilers for me.  Consider yourself duly (dully?) warned.

~ ~ 7 ~ ~

I *love* my new blog template.  It’s set up with all the changeable options (fonts, colors, widths) in an actual menu, so I don’t have to go digging though the style sheet to find them.

Anyone who’s tried to wiggle their own template details will understand when I say:

Absolute *delight* to work with.

More 7 Quick Takes at Jen’s place.

Of Roundabouts and Red lights

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The number of roundabouts in the United States is growing, despite, apparently, a vehement dislike of them by many Americans.

The arguments in their favor explain their increased use: primarily safety and efficiency of movement as compared to a traditional four-way intersection.

A segment on NPR last month described the main objections as a feeling of being less-safe, this primarily because the *when* to go is dependent on each driver, and varying levels of insecurity will make some drivers more hesitant to enter the circle.

The author in this segment discussing traffic argued that this hesitancy was exactly what made roundabouts more safe than traditional intersections, as everyone has to pay more attention.

A traffic light is nice because we can just go when we’re told.  If we get creamed we know it was the other guy’s fault and everybody agrees with us.  If we get creamed on a roundabout (fairly rare as speeds and angles all inhibit the possibility) it’s invariably our own fault.  And that’s harder to live with.

~

The topics of vaccinations and antibiotics (among others) have become hot topics of debate among modern mothers.  Some decry these artificial interventions as unnecessary and setting their children up for greater problems down the road.

Other mothers cling to them as “life-savers” in both the literal and hyperbolic meanings of the phrase.

Regardless of their leanings, most parents bemoan the sometimes arbitrary guidelines and murky information swirling about these topics, and regret together the lack of consensus.

I suggest that here is a classic application of the roundabout versus stop-light mentality.

Life would be so much simpler if we could just feel safe to trust the green light, but that view of reality assumes that the rest of life will flow according to best-case-scenario.

I do use both debatable examples given here, but I try to use them thoughtfully: antibotics under advisement after waiting, and some vaccinations later than scheduled because my children were under the curve for weight.

I’m one of those “life-saver” moms who has seen too many benefits outweighing the risks, but I have met moms from the other side, and their experiences are no less valid.  This is why we all need to learn to think for ourselves.

I believe some things– maybe most things, though we get tired of the work– are better when they require individual weighing of each situation.  Bad choices (in my experience) are regretted less if they were well-reasoned and seemed sensible ahead of time.  There is at least a small consolation that I didn’t stumble stupid into something.  I earned it.

And where I seek the rest of my consolation is in looking to learn enough from each latest mistake that I won’t repeat it.

Seven Quick Takes (Vol. 3)

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Again, from Jen’s idea.

~ ~ 1 ~ ~

Jay’s talking about wanting a pellet-burning stove.  I’m asking where it will go.

I’m asking for a double bed with drawers.  It will take up less room (in our little room) than the queen-sized bed (we never use all that space anyway), and let us get rid of at least one dresser.

Both changes will make more room for book cases ;)  Eventually.

~ ~ 2 ~ ~

The cast list was sent out last week, and my name was by “doting mother,” which comes just before a list of “my” seven children (a boy, three girls and my own three kids).  This might have seemed really cool, except just a couple days before Jay had fielded a call while I was out, inviting me to play “the matron.”

Leaving aside the self-image rearrangement that I looked more like a “matron” than a lady (hmmm?) the description of the role he was given created some questions that have yet to be cleared up.

  • The role was described as comic relief
    • I’ve never actually done “comic relief” before.  My humor is more about situational stuff and wordplay.  It would be a new thing to learn.
  • Am I the “doting mother” or the “matron” who’s constantly dumping her seven kids on Cinderella (highlighting her helpless plight)?
    • The compatibility of the two alludes me
  • What is the behavior of these 7 children?
    • I have yet to see a comedy where the children behave properly
    • I e-mailed the director and said I would be willing to herd 7 children, but not 7 brats (I suppose that was horrid, but it’s true.)
    • I’ve often thought that more intimidating than unruliness (and less-frequently explored, perhaps because it’s more complex) is the “perfectly behaved” children who are positively devious and make their digs by cunning rather than brute-brattyness.
      • This possibility actually creeps me out more than spiders.  Or at least as much.

~ ~ 3 ~ ~

I have my latest project (with Christmas for the deadline): dollhouse dolls.

I was so excited to see Barbara Curtis‘s post about the hugely discounted M&D dollhouse that I bought it the same day (it’s still going for under-retail now, but then it was $47.99, I think).  Local retailers ended up being out of the little dolls, so now I am in the process of making little flexible family members to live in said house.

It may even turn into an “entrepreneurial opportunity” as one owner of a sold-out shop emphatically affirmed her store would be very happy to offer locally made dolls.

(We’ll see how interested I am after I finish our own bundle)

~ ~ 4 ~ ~

I was at Barnes and Noble yesterday, considering all the delicious ways to spend a gift card, and the oddest thing happened as I cruised the section of the children’s department where I read the most.

I felt a claustrophobic tightening in my chest.  Just standing and looking at books was making me dizzy, and not in a good way.

This I’ve noticed only once before: when perusing the Lloyd Alexander section in my local library.  Dude’s got a gobzillion books out!

I can only suppose the feeling is a goulash of emotions: anticipation (someday I’ll be there), anxiety (when will that be?  When will I be done?), overwhelmed-ness (at the prolific-ness of other writers), and maybe even jealousy (at the freedom they seem to have in order to be prolific…)

I had to make myself be still and pray, waiting for God settle my mind and emotions before I could finish looking for the book I wanted that day.

Unreal, but making me again thankful I have a God who’s bigger than my emotions.

~ ~ 5 ~ ~

Once that was over I propped myself in one of the cushy chairs by their circular fireplace and worked some more on the timeline of my novel.  I had two distinct packages emerge in the process, and solved a squished-time dilemma (I’ve needed an extra day and just found where it belonged).

So, I have to give Jay’s fireplace idea some credence.  There’s a lot to be said for watching the flames.  It’s like a shower for your brain.  At least for me, having something visual and real, but inconcrete, was very useful.

~ ~ 6 ~ ~

I’ve decided I like to eat too much for weights or Pilates to be enough exercise.

Not that I eat a lot (I imagine I’ve got that under control) I just like, a lot, to eat.  And the stuff I want to eat, that I’ve been eating, has maintained me 13-lbs above my target weight (trust me when I say my target is not unrealistic, or even low, for my height).

The trick, as with all exercise, is finding something sustainable.

Free weights and Pilates are doable because I can take from books and do them in my living room.  The walking with my dog has been put on-hold because sub-zero walks are far from the motivating delight “normal” walks are.

I’ve considered a step, as I like the space requirements and exercising to music, but I’ve not taken the plunge yet.

We did see one in the same place Jay noticed a pull-up bar he wanted, so we may end up getting both together.  Maybe for a new-year’s project.

~ ~ 7 ~ ~

After looking yesterday at all three furniture stores in-town, Jay decided he wants to build the bed frame himself.

His goal is to get the main support and frame built this weekend (so we can buy a mattress and get our bed off the floor) and to design it so that a later-constructed set of drawers may be slid under it whenever they are completed.

This was the design we liked best out of what we saw, only most of these drawers were simple “friction” drawers, where you needed to drag a wooden box out of a wooden hole.

Jay knows he can do better than that, though he/we might not even have bothered, truly, if it weren’t for the exorbitant cost of new furniture.  If I’m paying over a thousand dollars for an item (we’re pushing a house-payment here!) I expect to get *exactly* what I need.

I suppose we could be considered unreasonable consumers.  But there you are: Jay will take on a project, same as me, when he knows he can do it as well, or better, then what is otherwise available.

So the bed will come before the fireplace– but I expect the next time we’ve saved some house money the fireplace will be next.