Category Archives: living

Sort of… a ROW80 check-in

ROW80LogocopyMaybe I’m just not ready to write this yet…  I have story ideas that need to be put on the page, and the only thing keeping me from doing that is this insane need to dot my Is and cross my Ts so that I can say “ah… finally, I can relax and spend time with my characters”…

Thing is…  it’s late for me already, and this medicine I started a few days ago for the tick bite (doxycyline, so not really a nasty one; it’s just somehow hitting me badly) made eating exciting all day.  Oh, that and the big drill in my mouth and sore jaw from getting fitted for a new crown….

At this rate I’ll have more porcelain in my mouth than tooth.  Actually…  I thin I’m already be there.

But there lies the check-in and the sort-of all in one…  I’ve been writing.  I feel the urge and the need to write.  Life has not been cooperating with me.  And I just sliced my palm open on one of those upholstery staples, so typing hurts.

I’m a very talented lady, with lots of words to write.  I haven’t been as good at my non-writing goals (I took pictures yesterday, but not today; I haven’t been doing my languages, no MOOCs, I did do push-up practice…  actually a pretty productive couple of days when I think of it).

Tomorrow I’ll be reopening the linky for the First Friday Photo on my other blog The Garden of Delights.  It’s just a once a month thing, and I’d love it if you’d like to contribute an image.

This isn’t my contribution…  this is what I’d be doing right now if I could.  A few months to go before we hit Saranac however.

On the Lake

On the Lake

Not Sure… But Prepared Anyway

wippetwednesday_zps53e803c0Well come, well come all!

It’s WIPpet Wednesday, a friendly little bloghop where writers post small (often random) samples of their most recent Work In Progress for your (and our) enjoyment.  The only rule we have (besides being nice and constructive when we comment on each other’s work) is to make our snippet somehow involve the date in the post.  Most of us count the number of lines or sentences we post (sometimes using convoluted maths to do this).   Sometimes we use the date as a theme…

Today it’s maths.  Taking the first three numbers of the date, I added the first two and subtracted them from the third for three…  three paragraphs from a backstory section of Singer of the Swan Song, book two of the Swan Song Series.

He didn’t know why, but Ytramli did not like the sound of Cleansed.  The girl was a princess, more so, she was the heiress…  There was nothing about such a person that could be considered unclean or wrong, at least not in his opinion.

Besides, anyone who laughed the way Atyriia had, cried as she had…  To become so silent.  What had been done to her?

He gathered up a handful of the ointments and vials he thought he could spare easily and brought them out to the main room.  Yes, he would probably have to return the rest, but maybe he could also plead his case to the Healer and be allowed to keep them.  Maybe…  Ytramli wondered if perhaps not bringing the items would be seen as further theft or if he could persuade the women to allow him a few… a few for the journey he knew he needed to make soon.

And that’s pretty much it for me this week.  A shout-out and cheer to our hostess with the mostest, KL.Schwengel at My Random Muse for maintaining the WIPpet Wednesday.  If you’d like to find other WIPpeteers, this is our linky.

Some trails lead to everywhere... (a cemetery near Kenilworth)

Some trails lead to everywhere…
(a cemetery near Kenilworth)

One last bit…  there is no ROW8 check-in today.  I’ve adjusted my schedule bar on the side to show the change, but I wanted to explain why I chose this.  Time is a part, of course.  It’s easier to read (and write and schedule) a shorter post that doesn’t involve an update.  Not to mention, I’m always being told to write what I like to read.  I prefer to read posts that focus on one topic.  I don’t mind links to extra directions I might want to explore, but I like the  cowtrails to be a bit more self-directed.

It took me some time to figure this out, and I’m still not sure this is an all or nothing thing for me.  Sometimes a meandering post can lead me to wonderful creative insights into the blogger’s mind and then to character development and then…

But for now, I’m going to try this new way of doing things and see what happens.  And I’d love your perspective on how it works out.  Thanks!

ST4S — Weekend Wonders

Welcome to the next installment of “Some Thing 4 Sunday” all!

Happy Crabbies

Happy Crabbies

There’s a problem with these Sunday posts, a problem best expressed by asking “some thing?”  How I pick a solitary thing out of all that a normal day can offer?  It can get challenging.  Good weekends (and this has been one of those super, awesome, amazing, love it! weekends that feel like the world is brand new) have so much happening that picking just one thing to focus on seems impossible.

And the so-called “bad weekends” have the opposite problem.  Nothing seems worth noting.

A lack of inspiration isn’t a problem this time….  What a wonderful weekend this was!

Treasures for me

Treasures for me

But I probably should focus on one thing since I’m already pushing the “late night” limit again (yes, last weekend was pretty wonderful too).  So, as much fun as the sale at Grandma & Grandpa Mabee’s church was, that was yesterday, and doesn’t count as a Sunday adventure.  But I am still tickled at the trove of nifties I bought for $8.00. And really, can you blame me?

And I also probably shouldn’t dwell too long on the fun we had at the Normans Kill Preserve where the Boodle found acorns well over an inch in size nearly everywhere on the path and got the chance to try climbing a rope swing someone had hidden in the woods.

Oh, and the concert!  I definitely shouldn’t spend too much time on the beautiful opening night concert put on by the Albany Symphony last night….  Certainly not!  It would be decidedly unfair to discuss after the fact how Clarice Assad‘s Nhanderu took me back spiritually to shadows and campfires and skies full of stars and fiery volcanic eruptions and the calls of the gods of earth and sky…  of birds and the dawn of humanity, of beasts in the throes of survival and the peaceful green of forests.  Then came a sublime violin concerto by Shostakovich and Tchaikovsky‘s Fourth Symphony with its fire and passion….

New ladder styles

New ladder styles

No, I definitely shouldn’t dwell on that.

So today…  we made today another family outing day.  With one small mission on our schedule, we stopped off at the Boodle’s school to trim off dead wood from an old apple tree in their playground.  Between hauling logs and gathering apples, I kept myself pretty busy.  Not too busy though…  After picking up two full bags of apples for saucing, I headed over to check on my hubby’s progress, to almost walk into…

Bothered Bees

Bothered Bees

Yeah… I didn’t get closer than that.  After stepping back carefully, I checked in the tree and saw that there had once been a huge hive about 25ft or so up.  Now the hive was in several pieces, several of which were on the ground.  Given the gathering on this layer of comb compared to the others, I almost wonder if the queen wasn’t being sheltered in that small swarm.

The Half Moon in harbour

The Half Moon in harbor

Once we’d accomplished our mission, we headed up to Albany to spend some time at the Corning Preserve in Albany and walk down to see the Half Moon.  The skies were cloudy, hinting at rain but never bringing it.  There was enough sun to make the Hudson River glisten.

And the Boodle found a new passion…

He wants to be a tour guide on the ship.

There was more to the day, of course.  There was time for the Boodle to play on the playground, moments of laying back on benches and watching the clouds…  there was even a short train with an orange caboose!

It wasn’t a planned weekend.  Except for the concert, we had no idea of what we would be doing until we got in the car.  And it was a wonderful weekend…

How was yours?

Climbing apple trees is a childhood rite of passage

Climbing apple trees is a childhood rite of passage