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Category Archives: on my mind
All Grown Up
There are certain milestones in life that you are supposed to accrue to be deemed a grown up. These may include, but are not limited to, attending/graduating from college, getting a *real* job, getting married or being in a long term relationship, having a child, buying a new car, buying a home. The sort of things that make your parents, guardian or parole officer sigh with relief of a job well done. Everyone is different, of course, so your milestones may vary.
Recently, I’ve added another two items to my personal list: buying a new living room set and installing new carpeting in the vast majority of the house.
You’ll notice I have the word “set” in bold. That’s because until now, we have purchased furniture one piece at a time and none of it actually went with the rest. Never an entire three-piece set that goes together. That all arrives on the truck at the same time. It’s a heady experience, I tell you, to see all that lovely matching upholstery in one room.
And new carpeting? Bliss! So clean, so cushy. New carpet smell is not as pleasant as new car smell, to be sure, but it is just as significant as a sign of adulthood.
Granted, with two kids, two dogs and two cats, the newness of the furniture and carpet will fade quickly, but for now I feel all grown up. Well, mostly.
What makes you feel grown up?
Name Game: Color Me Baffled
Sometimes it’s difficult to come up with titles for my stories. I’ve hit upon good ones (a fantasy trilogy in the works: “What Price the Crown,” “Once a Princess,” “Queen Without a Country” (which has been used, but I didn’t know that at the time)). Quite by accident, I must admit. Others are, as my daughter would say, “meh”. Serviceable, but nothing that pops. I know a good title is important to both convey the contents of the story and be as memorable as possible without being ridiculous (no more than five words; it should be “active,” using some verb form, etc.).
But I don’t have the difficulty that others do when it comes to naming things. Consider the folks whose job is to name paint colors.
Recently, my husband and I decided to paint our bedroom. Down at the hardware store, we found that handy book with all those rectangular paint sample cards. An amazing number of colors. But looking closer, the names the company labeled their paints were amusing. Or head-scratchers. Examples? I got them.
First of all, there are many colors named for foods and drinks, and a good number of those are roasted, toasted and baked. A few are raw, but mostly they’ve been subjected to some kind of heating method. Another popular category is nature. Makes sense. We like a little of the outdoors indoors, where it can be controlled and kept clean with the swipe of a sponge.
Weather/atmospheric conditions get more than a few. There were many raindrops this and windy or breezy that, but my faves are a little more, shall we say, tumultuous.
New Monsoon and Tsunami Night–exciting, I’m sure, but do you want your room color to make you think of potential natural disasters?
City Storm–appropriately a darker gray.
March Ice–kind of brownish, which makes sense.
March Breeze–a lighter shade than March Ice, but still brownish. Not healthy.
Warm Fog–quiet the oxymoron, don’t you think?
Dusted Gloam–“gloaming” means twilight, but why the decision to take off the “-ing”? Doesn’t “Dusted Gloaming” roll off the tongue easily enough? No, no it doesn’t.
A few others I found that had me wondering about the state of mind of the poor paint company employee trying to come up with a new way to describe the thousandth shade of some color:
Limish–really? That’s the best you could do?
Martian–yes, it is green. Surprised?
Bluish–see Limish
Novella Blue–what?
But my favorites are the colors that send a message.
Lucky You–a perfect choice for the bedroom, don’t you think?
Dawn’s Reveal–unless you’ve had a bad morning after experience.
Bleak–also not a good bedroom choice.
Rapture, Bliss and Rollick–now we’re talking.
Super Nova–Yes! Though it’s a paler color than I think of when I think of a super nova.
Slumber–well, yes, I would like that too, thank you.
Prudence–sounds a little to stiff and formal. Perhaps a few glasses of wine before bed are in order?
Virtue and Naivete–totally painting my daughters’ rooms these colors.
There was one color that would make a killer title for a SFR: Helio Prism. Apparently I’m not the only one who thought that sounded way cool, as it’s also part of the title of an album by a band called Beautiful Bloody Fiction, with some paint color-worthy song titles: Waiting for the Smoke to Clear, Burst, and Rose-Colored Specticles.
In the end, Husband and I went with a warm, peachy color called “Sonoma.” Neither of us have ever been to Sonoma, but should we go we’d expect to see this shade dominating the landscape. Because the paint company said so.
We’re Not All Rogues
Please don’t judge the rest of us in AK by what you read about Sarah Palin and Levi Johnston.
I will admit, I admired Palin enough to consider voting for her to be governor. Yeah, that’s a big deal for a liberal-minded gal like me. But she was a lot more normal then. At least on the surface. And compared to the other candidates during that election? Well, let’s just say she was a breath of fresh air as she spoke of ethics reform and fiscal responsibility. Since then, I promised myself I would research candidates much more thoroughly in the future. Much more.
But then the vice presidential thing and the pregnant daughter thing and the baby daddy becoming some sort of celebrity thing occurred (Can someone please please PLEASE explain to me what Levi Johnston did to earn all this attention?). Palin and Johnston have been splashed across the national scene like poo at a monkey house. There are book deals and pistachio commercials, appearances on Oprah and spreads in Playgirl. They’re dragging the rest of the state along for the ride, whether they mean to or not. Whether we want it or not.
I just want to remind you that there are normal people who live here, too. Folks who work hard, do their jobs, raise families and care about the world around us. Not that Palin and Johnston don’t do those things (though for the life of me, I can’t figure out what Johnston DOES do), but the attention isn’t on their normalcy. Far from it. And there is normalcy here. Despite our living in a more extreme environment, we’re not all rogues. Or celebutants. Or hockey moms. Lip-sticked or otherwise.
Equal Rights and a Family’s Heartache
This is not a political blog. In fact, I usually do my darnedest to keep my politics out of public forums. But this story/link posted on Nicola Griffith’s blog about a family denied the opportunity to see their dying partner/mother is an outrage. A crime against what we humans should have over the basest of creatures: compassion. I’m sure the hospital social worker, the doctors and other personnel were just following the rules. Well, you know what? The rules suck. And when rules suck, when they prevent loved ones from seeing their ill family member and prevent them from saying good bye, the rules need to be changed. Now.
For those of you in Washington state, Referendum 71 is worthy of your attention and your vote. If you live elsewhere, find out where your state stands on same-sex marriage and domestic partnerships. You may be surprised. And possibly stunned and disappointed. If so, make an effort to change it.
If the states won’t step up, there needs to be a federally mandated equal marriage law. Equal.
I have never understood how granting equal rights to all could possibly be detrimental to anyone. When I read the story I wept for that family and for everyone caught up in the stupidity that is the current climate. And my friends, we are ALL caught up in the current climate.
Bear with Me
One of our neighbors is becoming annoying. No, not in a playing his music too loud or letting his dog poo in our yard sense. He (or she?) is rattling our empty garbage cans at night and getting into things in the open bed of a pick up truck.
Yes, our formerly polite black bear is acting like, well, a bear.
When we first moved to this little coastal town in south central Alaska, we knew there were more bears than moose around, completely opposite from our previous location. Both critters can be dangerous, especially when your dopey dog runs up to full grown mama moose and barks in her bulbous nose. Not smart, dog, not smart at all. Both are given space and respect (as much as we can with said dopey dog, at any rate).
We quickly learned there was a neighborhood bear, but never saw much of the bruin. He (we’ll stick with the patriarchal pronoun for now) left piles of berry-seeded poo along the narrow strip of grass that separates our house from a swath of brush and the slope down to a creek. While picking salmon berries (no, they don’t taste like fish), my husband saw his brown nose peek out from some bushes. A stern, “Go away, bear” was enough to scare him off. Our cat was never chased. Our garbage cans were never so much as turned over, let alone debris strewn across the yard.
But things have changed.
Two weeks ago, I was settling down for the night when I heard thumping outside–the telltale sound of a plastic garbage can being abused. Shoot. I knew it wasn’t a neighbor’s dog. Taking up the heavy flashlight from the kitchen counter, I went to the front door and flipped on the porch light. Grateful we, like most Alaskans, have an arctic entry (an area for coats and boots that separates the house proper from the outdoors), I was able to keep the dogs in while I poked my head out the outer door. I could hear the bear bumping into things, and since garbage had been collected that day I knew he wasn’t making a huge mess. But due to the monster piles of wood dear husband had stacked for the winter soon to come, I couldn’t see anything.
“Go away, bear,” I said in my gruffest “dad” voice. The thumping stopped. “Go on, get out of here.”
I listened and waited, the half-glass outer door between me and the bear and flashlight in hand (why I had it, I don’t know. It’s not like I was going to go out there. But its weight felt good in my hand.). After a few moments of no sound, I figured the bear moved away from the house, back up into the brush. Just as I was about to go back in, he lumbered from behind the tall stack of wood into the light. My heart stopped for a second or two then thudded hard in my chest.
“That is one big freakin’ bear,” my brain informed me. Yes, thank you for stating the obvious, brain.
Maybe 200 pounds, he strolled past the porch and glanced up at me behind the laughable protection of the half-glass door. My heavy duty, 2″ diameter, foot long Mag-Lite suddenly seemed like a tube of tin foil. Not that I would have gotten close enough to hit him with it. Not intentionally, anyway. He kept walking and disappeared into the shadows.
The next morning, I warned the kids about our night visitor and made sure the coast was clear before letting the dogs out at night. All had been quiet for the past couple of weeks, except for the distinct whiff of musk the other evening that told us he was still making his rounds. But nothing destructive.
Until last night.
Hubby returned from a week of meetings and shopping in Anchorage at 1 am. He left the groceries and things he purchased in the back of the new, open bed pick up truck he’d transported back via ferry. (The truck is for the science center where he works, the groceries are ours and a co-worker’s.) He had some totes of freezer/refrigerator items, including coffee creamer, butter, cheese and meats, that he left outside rather than put away after a long day. It was cool enough to keep things fresh. Along with that, our pal Penny had purchased three dozen tamales from Taco Loco, a restaurant in Anchorage that she absolutely loves. Hubby transported them back with our stuff so we could store them for her, as Penny was staying in Anchorage for a few more days.
This morning, Hubby let the dogs out and discovered our bear had been back. Despite the presence of approximately 30 pounds of meat and other fat-rich goodies, the bear went for the enticing scent of tamales. And really, who can blame him? He pulled the tarp off the tote, chewed a couple of holes in the plastic, tossed the lid and went to work. Of the three dozen tamales, packaged in a tin foil covered pan, 21 survived. As long as Penny doesn’t mind paw prints on her corn husks, they should still be fine.
Living with wildlife is never boring, but the past few weeks have seen a marked increase in the excitement level around here. In the scheme of things, the loss of a dozen tamales isn’t bad (though Penny might not feel that way). We’ll be temporarily free from our furry neighbor’s antics once he goes into hibernation for the winter. For now, we’ll keep the garbage shut in the shed until pick up day, especially if we have Mexican for dinner.
Olé.
Bringing Out the Shine
{A quick preface: One of the things I love about world building in fiction is the use of a phrase unique to that world. “Frak” in Battlestar Galactica. “Damn the void” in my own work (yeah, shameless plug. So sue me.). In Firefly, one of the best shows EVER on television, it was “Shiny,” in reference to something good. }
Yesterday, amid the catching up of family doings with my old friend Patti (her kids are BOTH in high school now, her oldest a senior! Yeah, we feel old.) she told me about the enthusiasm her daughter has for a particular teacher’s lessons. Her daughter often comes home with a gleam in her eye and begins a conversation with “Today, Mr. Smith talked about…” and goes on to reiterate everything Mr. Smith said about one topic or another.
“Remember when we used to be that excited about everything our professors said?” Patti asked.
“We were young then,” I said. “Everything we heard and did was still shiny. Now, most things aren’t so new.”
There are things in life that we first gaze upon with wonder and enthusiasm. Events or ideas or even objects we fawn over and proudly share with the world, or maybe even keep hidden from view so we alone can bask in its glory. There is a shine that might blind us to everything else, dazzle us with its brilliance, attract the attention of others. It is all good and amazing.
But sometimes, somewhere along the line, the shine is dulled. The brilliant observations of a beloved professor are chipped away by better techniques and different views. Travel is no longer the carefree romp across the country, but a slog between crowded airports on crowded planes. Relationships, always shiny at the beginning, are worn by time and dinged by life.
The challenge is to find the shine. Not just to experience new things that make your heart race and feel like you’re nineteen again. Those are wonderful and should be part of your life. Maybe not skydive every day, but even something as simple as trying a new dish at your favorite restaurant, or trying a new restaurant, can set you on a world of discovery.
No, for me, the real challenge is to buff those things that once made my heart race and have lost their glimmer for some reason or another. The return to a hobby I used to devote all free time. Re-reading a book that made an impact on my younger self. Re-igniting the fire we had before the patter of little feet.
If I can make the effort to see these things in a new way, if I can remind myself why I loved them so, and perhaps find a new facet to admire, they will shine for me once again.
What old passion can you think of that you might re-awaken and say, “Shiny!”?
Tax Relief and Economic “Whoa!”
In these tough economic times, I can completely get behind government and private assistance, even bailouts if the Average Working Joe or Jane gets a break somewhere (bailouts being used for million dollar bonuses to executives are totally nauseating). And I can understand if tax payments need to be renegotiated so folks can still maintain a living. But there is an ad for a tax relief service on television that has me fuming.
The ad starts off with an everyday looking couple saying they owed $30,000 in taxes but when they went through this service they ended up only paying $3,000. The next couple (and these little bits always show a man and a woman, whether they are married or partners in some business) owed $100K and paid only $10K, or some such fraction. Each of the four or five bits increases the original amount owed, with the final being $3 million, and the happy couple reveals they actually paid $1 million. That’s what this company does, eases the burden. Fine, except for one thing. These people seem more smug than relieved. They come across not as “Oh my goodness, we were so buried by all kinds of financial difficulty that we couldn’t breathe and now we can afford food again.” but as “Heheh. Screwed the government and, in effect, the rest of you people. Suckers!”
Now, as I said, I have no issue with helping folks when they need a hand. And I’m not going to argue the tax code here (mostly because I don’t understand it). What gets me riled, and never ever willing to consider the company, is the attitude portrayed by the couples. Sure, taxes can be difficult to pay, but if they aren’t paid many federal programs that do things like provide health care to kids, veterans and the elderly don’t get sufficient funds. Schools don’t get money, highways don’t get maintained, etc. There’s less going into the coffers, less to be used for the things we need. If taxes can’t legitimately be paid because there are too many other things demanding payment and you need help, that’s fine. Get help, pay what you can. But don’t sound like you’re happy about it. Because for every dollar you aren’t paying, some program is losing a dollar.
I was raised to believe we are a nation that takes care of its own, and then some. That everyone should do what they can to help those in trouble. Folks receiving such things as tax aid should be, first and foremost, legitimately deserving, and yeah, even grateful that there is help to be found. Not grovelling and feeling like they are lacking, but appreciative. And even if you feel more smug than relieved, at the very least don’t let the rest of us suckers feel like suckers.
Summer, We Shall Miss Ye…Sort of
By most of the country’s standards, summer is still in full swing. Even if school has started, there are plenty of hot days and at least one long weekend to go before it’s over. Not here in the Soggy North. School will not start until the 20th (too soon, according to my oldest child), but looking out my window at the blowing rain, listening to the furnace kick on despite the thermometer setting of 63, the carefree days are essentially over.
Over for the kids, anyway. Hehehe. I’ll try not to gloat as I sit in my quiet house, sipping a second or third cup of coffee whilst donned in flannel pajamas. I’ll consider their hectic schedules as I make the difficult decision whether to shower before or after “Regis and Kelly.” I promise not to smirk as they labor over pages and pages of homework while I flip through the latest issue of People. I promise not to do these things because I am a good and kind mother (snerk).
But hey, I’ve done my summer duties. We spent some grand quality time together, had visitors and participated in all kinds of activities, went Outside for ten days to visit family and friends. All in all, it was a very good, fun summer. And now it’s time to get back on schedule, continue focusing on our goals and dreams. If I can do that in my pajamas, so much the better.
Change of Plans
The guest post over at The Galaxy Express was a lot of fun. Heather’s Parallel Universe idea during the RWA National Convention brought out a nice array of topics and ideas. Thanks again, Heather! I said I’d post the piece that didn’t make the cut, but two things happened to kill that idea. First, my modem burned out. No Internets for the entire weekend! I don’t know who was more twitchy over the lack of networking, me or my 12 year old. I did slip into the library and checked email once, but I didn’t have the file with me anyway. Then, my mother and nephew arrived. Visiting took precedence over posting. And now, well, I’ve changed my mind about putting the piece up. At least for the time being.
The visit with Mom and Nephew went well. We got out on a few easy hikes, trundled to the glacier 50 miles down the gravel highway for lunch and some awesome calving, and generally enjoyed ourselves. Weather, always a questionable factor here in soggy south central AK, was mostly agreeable. The only downer was our boat breaking. Hubby wanted to take Nephew and our kids out fishing, but not being able to go further than line of sight made it less than enticing. But now Nephew and Daughter #1 are at Science Camp. They are getting plenty of outdoor time, even if it is wet. Yes, after two weeks of relatively dry and pleasant, we have rain. Lots and lots of rain.
The weather has also affected Hubby. He is overseeing a big research event, coordinating scientists from several universities and such on three different boats that should be out in the Sound running instruments and gathering data.
At least that was the plan. He was supposed to leave Monday afternoon, but a winter storm-type weather system roared into the area. Thirty to thirty-five knot winds have grown to 40-45, with rain increasing. Two of the boats had already left and are anchored in the lee of islands somewhere in the Sound, waiting for a break in the weather to get a little work done. Hope they brought a deck of cards.
Hubby and the two science dudes he was working with came back to our house last night for dinner and more comfortable accommodations than sleeping on the boat. They had managed to get a little data, but not nearly as much as they were hoping for. They are going back out today, but the weather is getting worse, so they won’t go far and will be back in port this afternoon. We’ll have them eat and sleep here and hope they can get out Wednesday. And not lose a $100K science instrument in crappy seas.
While they are anxious about getting the work done, they are philosophical about conditions. The weather is what it is. You can bitch, but that won’t help or change it. Just do what you can with what you have available, try to take advantage of small windows of opportunity, and be glad you can come back to a warm bed and a hot meal even when things have gone awry.
It’s an attitude I think we need to have more often, for all occasions.
July? Already???
Yikes! What happened to the latter half of June? My kids have been out of school since May 21 and it feels like we’ve hardly done a thing. One attended a week-long science day camp, the other went to girl scout camp, and we’ve gotten out on the boat a few times (fishing, but not catching), but generally we’ve been lay-abouts. Which is nice and all, but still, I feel a little sluggish compared to how quickly the month flew by. This last half before school starts in late August will probably whip by as well, but we have a busier schedule.
First up is the local Fourth of July extravaganza, complete with kids’ activities and a barbeque. Everyone comes. There won’t be fireworks, however. What, you say, no fireworks??? What’s 4th of July without fireworks? Well, considering it doesn’t get dark until nearly midnight in the summer, a public fireworks display is tough. There will be plenty of noise-making fireworks, I’m sure, but not the pretty ooh-ahhh light up the sky types. Or if there are any planned, I won’t be watching them. New Year’s Eve is the time for pretty fireworks displays in the North.
The week after the 4th, my mother and nephew will be coming from New York for a visit. Mom will stay a week before having to return, but my nephew will remain here. We’ll take them to the glacier and hopefully get out on the boat. Nephew will go to science camp with our oldest then stay another week for fun. We’ll travel with him to Seattle, see him off to his NY-bound plane then my kids and I will head to Spokane to visit the in-laws. Poor hubby has to stay home to work, take care of the critters, and prep for a 3 or 4 week research cruise off Hawaii that leaves the day after we return. Yeah, rough life.
After Spokane we’ll have a week or so before school starts up. Whew! How time flies. Like the hormones here in our house (DD#1 is 12 1/2, DD#2 is 9 and just hitting those pre-pubescent waves). No wonder hubby isn’t turning down the chance to be gone for weeks at a time.
But it’s been a good summer so far. Even the weather has been mostly cooperative–in the 60’s and low 70’s, no days and days of torrential rain but real sun. Often more than two days in a row! Crazy balmy, I know!
So how’s summer in your neck of the woods?