Re-Activating, Plus...CATS!

I'm Reopening the Blog!

🌟wild cheers and applause in my head🌟
actual, startling silence throughout the universe

Today is mostly... practice? Recalibration? Declaring my intentions to the internet? Screaming into the void? I have ideas (besides just Fiction Friday). More importantly, I have the itch to write again.

Also, the cast has expanded: There are cats. 😻🙀

In an effort to make this blog more accurately reflect the notoriously anal-retentive (Gen X represent!) organizational state of my life, there will be... structure.

aggressively smacks wire hanger against palm

If there's still anyone out there, I'd love to hear what you think.

Monday Coffee Klatch

On my free mornings, I usually end up in a coffee shop with my Kindle, so Monday seems like the natural day to ramble about reading. It could be a review, an excerpt I loved, something that annoyed me, or just whatever rabbit hole the book sent me down. (Disclaimer: Spoilers are entirely possible.)

Mostly, I need people to talk books with. My poor husband is the only available victim, and I can't get too deep into a discussion because I might spoil a book he may, conceivably, someday decide to read.

Any readers out there? You could become my sounding board.

Wednesday Poetry Corner

Last winter, during Hoi An's record-breaking rainy season, I started writing what I called "rainy day haiku," mostly as a way to preserve my sanity. (Or at least my temper.) Surprise! That 5-7-5 rhythm got into my head, and never left.
(This might also become a place to share poems I enjoy. We'll see.)

That said... this one's a solid maybe. I'm not historically much of a poetry person, so I reserve the right to discover that I've overestimated my commitment.

Fiction Friday

Business as usual. You give me writing prompts. I turn them into something unexpected. Honestly, this is the part I'm most excited about.

Notes to the Wary

Beaker (ginger) and Miefen

My commenting system was irretrievably jacked up before. I haven't tested it lately, so I can't promise I'll be able to reply to comments—or even comment back on your blogs if you leave a link. I will come visit. I just might have to lurk.

And naturally, any of these regularly scheduled programs may be pre-empted by life, travel, or feline intervention.

 Anyway...

The blog is open again!

Fiction Friday, Almost - Noir Twist on This Morning's Mystery

The scene was a massacre – white confetti littered the cold tile, spilling over the threshold into the next room. Whoever did this respected no boundaries. The roll’s remains, full of more holes than a politician’s alibi, slumped in the corner like a forgotten communion wafer stuck to the tongue of a sinner. Beaker sauntered through the carnage, tail nicked and bleeding, eyes saying he’d seen it all but wouldn’t talk. Somewhere under the bed, Sassy was lying low, and I had a hunch one of them knew exactly who pulled the first shred.

Beaker sniffed at the roll but made no eye contact as he left me to my work. I watched him leave, wishing I could interrogate him, but the timing wasn’t right. First, I needed to work the scene.

What I wouldn’t give for a good ol’ cup o’ joe right now. It was too early, and in my brain fog I worried I might miss something. My gut said it had been Sassy all along. The Sasquatch had a rap sheet of shredded toilet rolls – he’d even been caught red-pawed. But Beaker being first on scene raised red flags. Was he merely a curious cat? Or testing the evidence for his scent before I could bag it? He’d been acting strange lately, and word on the street was he’d been dipping his whiskers in something stronger than cream. Bias is poison in this line of work. Follow the evidence, or it could bury you.

The evidence:

Exhibit A: A blizzard of tiny, snow-like shreds – the wild abandon of this criminal! He had time to play and no fear of witnesses.

Exhibit B: Deep claw-holes carved through the roll – a bigger perp, heavier paw.

Exhibit C: The paper on the roll left useless, comet tails dragging from layer after layer – this cat had no conscience.

Exhibit D: Rust-colored smears on one end of the roll. Blood. Always blood.

The blood haunted me – Beaker was the only bleeding suspect. No question I needed my morning jolt of caffeine. He had been dragged into Sassy’s crimes before, but this level of carnage… It was too much to consider. Meanwhile, Sassy had made himself scarce. Not just out of sight, but without a sound. From a loudmouth? The silence spoke volumes. No surprise if he was involved, so I sealed the crime scene and went out for my hit of energy. Everyone has their vices, and this was mine. Sue me.

Cleaning up the scene later, I knew the truth: both collars were dirty. The old pro Sasquatch had the size and the history – massacres of this scale plus the deep claw marks. They called him Sasquatch for a reason. Beaker – the runt, the supposed innocent – had the blood on his tail. My heart sank. The golden boy had fallen. The whispers were true: sobriety wasn’t his strong suit anymore.

Will locking them up together set them straight… or just make them meaner? Time has the answers. But it doesn’t give them cheap.

Beaker, sniffing around the evidence

 Explanation: Yes, we have two cats now. Yes, this is a true story. However, to defend the innocent: Beaker's drugs are prescription, due to a recent rat bite. 

 

Writing Writing Everywhere

...Just not always here.

Yes, I signed up for Nanowrimo. And I'm doing well, right on track. I had my writing all "done" for the day (meaning I wrote enough words, and came to a reasonable stopping place, so I stopped writing and started doing other things) but I'm about to start up again this evening because of a sudden revelation...

I want to know what happens next!

At any given time I have at least two books that I'm reading - a book on ink and an e-book that I can read in bed in the dark. And this evening, when I have the time to pick up a book and read, I found myself wondering what was going to happen next to my character! That I'm writing! For Nanowrimo! And I was sitting here hoping that she'd do this one thing that I just realized she needs to do.

So I guess I'd better write that scene.

Anyway, that's where my time is going. But I was talking to another writer the other day and realized how much I miss writing flash fiction, so Flash Fiction Fridays will be coming back. Later.

One Year Death Free

...And that year was 2022.

I didn't want to jinx it, so I didn't say anything as 2022 ended, and then it was 2023, and out of my mind. Actually, that's not entirely true, but whatever.

As of now, I am uncle-less. 

As a kid, I had four biological uncles (brothers of my parents) plus three in-law uncles (married to sisters of my parents). Yesterday - Friday, Nov. 3, US time - my mother's younger brother died. I don't know any details at this point, but he'd suffered from Parkinson's Disease and probably other heart/cholesterol issues due to weight. 

Grief is different each time. Of course, an uncle is not as close as a sibling or parent, so I haven't been teary yet. (It almost happened just before writing this.) I just ran away to the beach for a break in the morning.

It's about a 10 minute bike ride, and I usually swim for 7-10 minutes. Today I lay in the sand for a bit after that. It was later than I usually go, so the sun was super-warm and the waves were a soothing background. While I was there, I realized that's become my post-death go-to. After I got back from my nephew's traumatic funeral in 2019, I went to the beach for a bit. After my sister's funeral, took almost a whole morning just sitting and reading. Dad, too. It really helps to clear my head.

ANYWAY! Uncle ... let's call him Devin. I was thinking that we weren't that close, and we weren't. We didn't stay in touch or anything, and that whole family is scarce on social media. But suddenly I realized that, growing up, he was probably the uncle I saw the most. Uncle Devin lived in the neighboring town to my mom's mom. So every Christmas, every summer vacation, we would spend time at Uncle Devin's house. Especially as Grandma got older, he and his wife did more of the hosting. They had a cool, split-level house, and the town's water tower was right outside. It was very tempting to climb, although we couldn't get very high up before the ladder was locked down. 

Uncle Devin has two sons, so the whole family was very into scouting. It was a boy-haven house, even with a zip-line from one upstairs window to the tree-house... DECADES before zip-lining was mainstream. They had an extra garage where he taught his sons how to fix cars. With a sunken pit so they could just walk down some steps under the car to be worked on.

He was fun, and funny. When Brett and I were road-tripping across Iowa, we stayed with them for a night, and boy, they got along well. Brett and Uncle Devin had first met at my cousin's wedding a year before, and after talking together, Uncle D gave me the thumbs up. It felt like getting approval from the cool uncle. Because that's what it was. 

Uncle Devin's approval meant something. I remember, at Grandma's funeral - she died at 101, so had everything planned out - my sisters and I sang Beautiful Savior. Afterwards, Uncle Devin, an impressive tenor himself, told me "You've got some pipes!" It meant the world. I don't sing much outside of church choirs, and only to myself these days. Not that he was stingy with praise, just that he gave it when you weren't expecting it.

This is life. Death happens. He was a good man, who left a good legacy. He will be missed.

And life will go on.

One calendar year without a death.

p.s. Blogger is doing its thing where I can't reply to comments right now, and I can't remember how I fixed it. I'm reading them! I want to comment! I'll get around to it eventually!

Story Ideas

I'm considering whether to do Nanowrimo again this year. It's like an addiction, though. I feel like I *have to* do it. 

BUT... I have no ideas of what to write. There's no burning story that is bursting to come out of me. 

So I've been generating ideas for what to write, if I decide to do Nano. Here are a few ideas:

1. Sci-fi. Manager of a coffee shop on the Moon, in a time when the trendy thing is to move on to Mars. But this person doesn't make the cut for Mars, and feels stuck. A couple story options. A)S/he learns of something that could be a danger to all Moon-lings and has to escape or save the Moon. B)S/he meets someone, relationship starts, the SO makes the cut for Mars and either they go together or it ends in heartbreak.

2. Dystopian. BFFs were broken apart by a cataclysmic event in their youth. They reunite as adults, but their ideals and paths have diverged so much they have to overcome their new differences (because they share this deep connection to a brutal past). In the end, by coming together they find their new talents/skills/education are complementary to a degree that they can help their community/society/nation avert a coming catastrophe.

3. Parallel/Future world. A young woman's life is spared for a rare, prized physical trait. She wants a normal life, but is used for DNA harvesting. She begins/joins a rebellion of others trying to overthrow the DNA harvesters.

4. Modern world, possible Women's Lit. Woman breaks free from financial hardship through an online business. As things are looking good, she suffers death and loss from multiple angles and sinks into depression leading to loss of business and isolation. Back on her heels, she learns new skills to help herself, and in the process helps others. Story ends with her finally leaving her house for the first time in years.

5. Environmental Collapse. Climate change is wreaking havoc on the world's populations, agriculture, business. Storms, droughts, wildfires all take their toll. In the middle of the growing crisis, scientists find a way to weaponize weather and target opposing governments.

Now that I lay these all out here, they're each pretty heavy. Maybe I need to simplify and write REAL things about realistic people. Hmm... Thoughts?

American Road-trip, Part 4: Abundance

Recently I found myself musing on moments I had in the States last June, feeling lost among options. It happened often.

For example, I like keeping some snacks with me in the car when I'm on a road-trip. So I wanted to get something suitable. We were in a big box store, and I went to the grocery section. Snacks. Or wait. Nuts and Popcorn. Or wait. Cookies and Crackers. Or wait. Chips. 

These are all AISLE headings. Whole aisles full of so many choices my mind boggled. 

Convenience stores. Drug stores. Gas stations! Even on the highway, When there's an exit coming, you will see a bunch of signs telling you exactly what your choices are for food or fuel.

And the abundance went on. It's expected. I've lived with it. I understand it. I've just been away for so long it struck me differently. Not just "stuff" but convenience and availability. And assumed availability.

While we were on the east coast, a section of a major highway (I-95) collapsed in Philadelphia. We were in Delaware at the time, planning to drive up to New York in the coming days. Now this main path would be closed. I considered taking the ferry over to New Jersey instead and driving from there, but when we looked at ferry times, realized we needed a reservation. They were booked. Apparently everyone else visiting the Delaware shore had the same idea.

So, to avoid I-95 we hit the Jersey Turnpike instead. If you don't know, a turnpike is a toll road. On long toll roads in the States, service areas are spaced out every 50-90 miles, where you can pull off for gas or food without paying an exit toll. It's expected. 

The first service area had a sign up saying it was closed for maintenance. 60 miles to next service area. Which was closed, too. There was a ton of traffic. My guess is that a lot of people were diverted to the turnpike because of work on I-95. Finally, at the third service area we gassed up, then waited in long lines for fast food options. There were no tables so we ate outside by the car before continuing. 

We had assumed an American level of availability, and found ourselves with no options. One service center. It seemed almost un-American! This is why New Jersey has a bad reputation. 

Note: I've been to NJ before several times, and enjoyed my visits. I may have even taken the turnpike before; I don't recall. But it does have a murky reputation in the rest of the US.

American Road-Trip, Part 3: Hobbies

So, my brother-in-law has a new hobby: Making perfect ice.

I have not seen the results of this hobby, because we didn't visit their house, just met up at my mom's. I guess it is ice that is perfectly clear, with no streaks inside from bubbles rising to the surface? There's a specific way to do this. Apparently.

He's an engineer. I don't know if that has anything to do with it, but I do think it speaks to a mindset that appreciates technical challenges. So... perfect ice.

When he takes on A Hobby, it is one hobby for a duration. For a while, he brewed beer. Then he was making mead. I know he also enjoys researching the best ways to cook certain things. Like I say, technical, detail-based, precision tasks.

Someone else we visited works in the gun industry. I believe he tests new models of guns coming to market. He loves his work, and enjoys talking about it. I didn't understand a lot of what he said. He showed Brett some of his personal guns. So it's a job and a hobby!

One fun aspect of this trip was finding out about hobbies that developed during the pandemic. Good friends have developed their gardening in ways specific to their abilities. A self-proclaimed NON green thumb, she created a cactus garden. He grows strawberries. They planted a grape vine to grow over the arbor they built (it's not grown that high yet) and they added a decorative sculpture garden in one corner of their property.

Another friend has also been working on his garden, but in his case the big draw is a fire ring that will have raked, flag stone seating around it when complete. 

A good friend of mine who found herself gaining weight during lockdown has jumped on the fitness bandwagon, walking with friends, and throwing down an exercise mat at home to get exercise in inclement weather.

These are not the things we talk about during the occasional long-distance phone calls. Or if so, the topics don't bear the weight of the hobby. "What did you do today?" "Oh, I took a walk / worked in the garden / made ice." Then the conversation rolls on. That's why it was so great to actually visit with all these people. We can talk all the time, but seeing a person's life is a different level of communication.

It's the little things that make a person whole.