Mouths of Babes

I am soaking rice noodles for a stir-fry lunch, and I thought, well, maybe I should blog a bit. Since it’s Tuesday, and already I got in and out of the post office before the lunch rush. I feel unjustifiably proud of that accomplishment.

You take it where you find it.

Anyway, one of the things in my post office box was a flier for a series of “free” lectures on Revelations, the Antichrist, and various other fun things from some weird guy. It was so quaint I brought it home and the Princess and I had a lot of fun going over its weird Photoshopped animals and wild claims. (Best take: “Chemical engineer drops out of college after making too much LSD, reads Revelations, and BINGO! Easy money!”) I am HIDEOUSLY amused, but the Princess looked a little troubled. “It’s all scaremongering,” she said. “And refreshments? They don’t offer those unless they want you to buy something.”

Wise words, from my darling child.

I’m sure the Little Prince’s analysis will be more along the lines of, “If lions had wings they’d look better than that. And is that the dinosaur from Jurassic Park?” Bad Photoshopping almost viscerally offends him. I’m not quite sure why, because this is the kid who plays Minecraft, and that pixellated cube-stuff drives me bonkers. If there’s a genetic component there, it’s doing some interesting bending and stretching.

Also hilarious: standing in the shampoo aisle with the Prince and saying, “Well, do you want the cool cucumber scent? Or the…Old Spice?”

“Mom.” Scandalized. “That’s for old guys.”

I texted that exchange to the Princess, who responded with, “Two tickets to That Thing You Love.”

Nobody ever told me parenting would make me laugh this hard. Funny, funny little humans, growing up into scorchingly funny big humans.

Anyway, the rice noodles are fully soaked. Time to get my soy sauce, fried egg, and peanut oil on.

Over and out.

All The Things

So today, in addition to hopefully running to the post office and finishing whatever didn’t get done over the weekend, and getting wordcount in after a few days of just working on whatever catches my fancy, I should also put together a mini-greenhouse for starting the herb garden. Oh, and there’s a run to get out of the way, too. And stealing a few minutes to knit on the current project, and piano practice, and…

You know, maybe I should just go back to bed? That’s the problem with DOING ALL THE THINGS, just the mere thought of it is overwhelming. Added to all the cleaning I got out of the way yesterday, it’s a wonder I don’t need a weekend to recover from my weekend.

Or maybe I do.

In any case, it’s sunny, and I’m trying not to look at the news in order to keep my sanity. There’s also a clutch of emails that landed while I was out-of-office.

*eyes to-do list*

Uh, yeah. Maybe I’ll have to reprioritize and get some of this done tomorrow, for that is anothah day. And I didn’t list one of the really important things, which is looking at the Little Prince’s bicycle to see if I can fix it. I’m not sure if the rear brake cable has snapped or if it’s something to do with the lever on the handlebars, or whatever. And since I shifted to a smaller vehicle, loading it up to take it to a shop isn’t really an option, even if I could afford to. This will either be an easy fix once I eyeball the problem–in which case a victorious Instagram will be in order–or I’ll end up covered in bike grease and crying with frustration.

…yeah, I’m definitely going to push some of the to-do-list to tomorrow. Choices, choices, choices.

Canine Dignity

That feeling when you know you’ve got to grease your bulldog’s creases, and that he probably won’t like it, but he’d like being chafed and yeasty even less. Unfortunately, you can’t explain that to a dog. For them, it’s all one eternal Now, and when the Now involves not only bath-time but Sulfodene and butt paste, well. There is much moaning, groaning, and “BUT I WAS JUST WASHED LAST WEEK.”

The only thing making it bearable for Odd is the prospect of treats after the greasing of manifold crevices. Which he snarfs happily, then looks at me as if to say, “MOTHER. THAT WAS NOT ENOUGH REWARD FOR WHAT YOU JUST PUT ME THROUGH.”

And I reply, each time, “At least you get something out of the deal.” Not gonna lie, when one’s up to one’s wrist slathering a bulldog’s inguinal fold, sometimes one wonders if rescuing, say, a Labrador might have been a little more dignified.

Of course, I had a yellow Lab once, and “dignified” is not the word I’d use for that lurpy, happy bundle of furry neuroticism.

I managed to get out for a run yesterday, and it felt amazing. The only trouble with today is having to take it easy, because the mixture of bad weather and depression set my mileage back a bit. I long to get out and pound some more pavement, and I know Miss B would go with me, but the aching in my shins tells me pushing it yesterday means nothing but stretching and deep breathing today.

Dammit.

At least things are a little brighter. I managed to make it out of bed this morning on the first try. Progress! Miss B didn’t have to nose me more than once to express her joy at being Awake and Ready to Do Fun Things. Thankfully, brekkie and a rousing game of “let’s wrestle with Odd so Mum can grease him” has exhausted her, and she needs a short nap before finding more trouble to get into. This will probably involve the backyard, which is a sea of mud from the snowmelt and the weekend of steady rain.

Yeah. Dignity. Not a canine strong suit. I’m beginning to think it’s not really one of mine, either.

Cheerful Muffin

GOOD MORNING, EVERYONE. Not going running until my phone charges–the weekend was a busy, busy cupcake.

Oh, who am I kidding? It was busy because, undaunted by the fact that I have three deadlines happening at once (and another round of edits for Desires, Known just landed this morning, whee!), my brain decided to hork up 5K on a book I’m not supposed to be working on. Oh, I’d planned on doing other things, sure, but the story took over. Stolen time to write is the most enjoyable, of course, and I could feel the pressure of the Slough of Despond bleeding away.

That’s one thing I didn’t plan for when I realized I had three projects going at once: hitting the Slough on all three of them at the same time. Fortunately the Veil Knights project is still mostly in the new-shiny phase, but I’ve been thinking about it for soooooo long that when I flip to the file and take a breath to re-insert myself, I find myself staring at it going, wait, I know I wrote more than this, where’s that chapter? Then I realize I didn’t write it, I just THOUGHT REALLY HARD about it, and the urge to weep and drink rises a notch. Afterwar, of course, is deep in the weeds, but at least the disembodied hand is in a jar now. That’s one thing.

As for Roadtrip Z, I’m cogitating on the current scene, which is Ginny’s insomnia and a few realizations about just how fucked the current situation is. She’s sort of the only one who fully grasps as much, what with everyone else being concerned with survival first and deep analysis later. And poor Juju, wracked with guilt and grief, is not having a good time of it. Maybe they can help each other.

Anyway, my day’s work is all mapped out for me, including going for a run to work off Miss B’s fidgets. Bad weather and depression put a dent in my training schedule, but there’s no way around it, I’ve got to get back. It’s a vicious cycle–the more the depression mounts, the less I want to exercise, but exercise is one thing that interrupts the depression and pushes it back. It’s really hard right now, with so many trash fires going on. I keep reminding myself to keep swinging, to just put one foot in front of the other, but…yeah. It’s difficult. If not for the meds, I’d probably still be in bed, curled into a small ball and staring.

As it is, well, it’s hard to pry myself out from under the covers. So far I’ve managed it only because the dogs and the kids need me upright. Giri: the net that keeps one from the abyss. Left to myself, I’d probably withdraw until I erased myself from existence, but I have others to care for, and that forces me outward.

*looks over last paragraph* WELL. AREN’T I A CHEERFUL MUFFIN. Time to check my phone’s charge and get out the damn door. I’ll feel better after a run, I always do.

Over and out.

VEIL KNIGHTS News!

WELL. Do I have news for you, my darlings? I do, I do!

It’s official, I’m going to be writing a book for the Veil Knights series! It’s King Arthur meets urban fantasy, with bonus scavenger hunt. A bunch of really cool writers are banding together under the name Rowan Casey to bring you all sorts of delicious fun in a brand-new universe.

The bad news is, I can’t tell you which one I’m writing. I am Pinkie-Sworn to Secrecy, because there’s going to be a contest after Season 1 ends to see if people can match the book to the author. I’m sure my darling Readers, being the smartest around, will utterly smoke that competition, right?

To sweeten the deal, the first in the series, The Circle Gathers, is $.99 on Kindle right now.

Three years ago, Jessie “the Berserker” Noble was at the top of the MMA fight game, a world-title contender with a brilliant future ahead of her. Then the visions started and her world came crashing down. Hard. Now she’s a shadow of her former self, taking fights in the underground circuit to earn just enough to buy the drugs she needs to keep the horrible hallucinations at bay.

When a man named Dante Grimm tells her she’s the modern incarnation of a champion of old and that she and her soon-to-be companions are desperately needed to hold back the darkness to come, Jessie thinks he’s as insane as she is. But Grimm’s far from crazy. There is a battle coming the likes of which the world hasn’t seen in centuries, a battle against a foe straight out of their worst nightmares.

And for them to succeed, Jessie going to have to dive deep into the heart of the very thing she’s been running from all this time…

You’ll probably want to pick it up, so you can get a bead on the whole deal. It is Amazon-only, but the publishers are paying fairly and I get to work with a lot of people I like, so I jumped at the chance. I can’t wait to hear what you think!

Little Odd Troubles

WHY YES, I AM IN A MOOD TODAY. How could you tell?

Part of it is the wind. When I lived in Wyoming, one expected it, but up here, a constant stream of rushing air is a little less tolerable. Normally I quite enjoy it, like the sound of rain, but last night Odd Trundles woke me up every. two. hours. with a combination of “SOMEFING HIT DE ROOF, IMMASCAIRT!” and “I THINK I NEED TO PEE. MOM? MOM, I THINK I NEED TO PEE.” Naturally, as soon as I struggled out of bed and shrugged into my robe, Odd decided he really didn’t want to leave his nice warm crate at all, even if Miss B, cranky after the second or third episode, got her snoot in there to try and drag him forth.

So yeah. I’m cranky as fuck-all too, today.

*time passes*

I love this weird, yeasty little dog, I really do. And proof of it is, even as sleep-deprived as I am, I still rush to comfort him when one of his legs stops working and he freaks out. Bulldogs have weird neurological and spinal things because they’re so corkscrewed. Occasionally, if Odd moves wrong, something goes haywire and one of his back legs either goes numb or won’t respond, and this scares the little fellow so much that without instant soothing, he has one of his seizures. Thankfully, I was right next to him, and if I don’t freak out he’ll stay calm. It takes a steady voice, gentle hands, and a little pressure in particular places to short-circuit the seizures, almost like an interpretive dance. Miss B, anxious to help, almost precipitated the seizure afresh by attempting to grab his leg and MAKE it work for him, so that was an interesting few minutes. Now he’s resting comfortably with a peanut-butter-smeared muscle relaxer to make sure he stays loosened up.

My heart is still pounding. If someone would have told me the things I’d do to keep a rescue bulldog functioning, I’m not sure I would have believed it. On the bright side, there’s generally a clear-cut fix for everything that ails him, and while I’m focusing on his little troubles I’m not thinking about the current on-fire state of the country. So there’s that.

I need some tea. It’s Thursday, so another chapter of Roadtrip Z is up at my Patreon; the first part is still available for free! When we reach the next Patreon goal I’m going to vlog a reading from Steelflower, pronunciations and all. There’s some other exciting news I can’t talk about just yet, but I’m working on three deadlines at once right now, so that gives you an inkling.

Off I go to brew more caffeine, just to keep myself upright until I can crawl back into bed tonight. Hopefully both Odd and I will be exhausted enough to sleep the whole way through.

Agility Stats

This morning I dragged Odd Trundles out for walkies right after his brekkie. He was quite put out, not only because this represented a Change in Routine, but also because it cut into his morning “I’m bored, let’s do something!” bitching. So he hung back and tried to wrap the leash around my legs, which meant Miss B got her nose down and started heeeeerding him, which tangled her leash around my legs, and…yeah. Fortunately my agility stats are still going strong.

I also used 5calls and actually got through to a very nice staffer in my Congresscritter’s office. Said Congresscritter is a Republican I’ve voted against every. damn. time., but she’s working for me and I might as well make my voice heard. Please, if you’re calling, be kind to the staffers on the phone! They’re usually unpaid interns doing a shit job with grace and patience, so be polite. It helps to have a script, too. Even if you don’t use it, having a flowchart script of what to say can get you over the bump.

Now that the dogs are relatively calm (Miss B will need an afternoon ramble, just to be safe) I can focus on Afterwar. And Roadtrip Z. And bonus wordcount for a Sekrit Projekt I’m aaaaaaalmost ready to announce. ALMOST. Stay tuned for that.

Here’s your usual daily reminder to hydrate, make sure you get something to eat, and take a few deep breaths. It feels like the world is burning down, it’s okay to feel like screaming, none of what’s going on politically now is “normal” or “sane” except the resistance to der Turmper. You’ve got to take care of yourself and keep yourself human, you have a right to do that. I offer you a hug, and the knowledge that you’re not alone.

Also, schnorgles from Odd. Just look at that face. (And that seasonal alopecia!)