Month: August 2011

And this morning, I sat down at my desk to write – in longhand for a change – and heard the increasingly louder baaa-ing of sheep filling my ears. SHEEP. In the field across from the backyard (garden). SO not in Glasgow anymore.

Move completed, but only mobile wireless internet so no new pictures until later – must use our online time sparingly. Revising a manuscript for sub to a new editor after yet another kind rejection of SISTER CITIES. I’m wondering – again – if I really know how to write for MG! But, my SAM says it’s too early for me to be fretting, so we’ll see.

Meanwhile, the sheep send you greetings.

Yes. Black socks. Sandals. Bermuda shorts. That’s my Dad. And yes, this is the kind of pointless snickering I’m doing, instead of real work. My goodness, I am tired…!

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Moving is a kind of relentless process. By the time you’re packed, you’re sick of your possessions. By the time you’re leaving town, you’re both wound up and exhausted at the prospects before you. By the time you’ve gotten the last box into the room where its contents will be eventually unpacked and set into place, you’re listing to the side and much too giddy that you’re IN AT LAST to do much more than find utensils, have a bowl of cereal (did you remember to buy milk??) and go to bed.

Or, if you’re thoroughly abnormal, you go to the library with the house still full of boxes and find a Jasper Fforde book you hadn’t read. You then proceeded to a.) produce something with your new address on it and get your new library card, and then b.) prop your feet ON a box and c.) read until you realize you are giggling at things that aren’t jokes (although with Jasper Fforde, you never know). After that, then you can see about that cereal, after which you just about drown falling asleep in the tub.

Of course, while all of this was ongoing, Tech Boy was busily unpacking the kitchen. I couldn’t help him with that; I saw a MASSIVE spider in there…

Do you get the feeling we’re not going to be unpacked any time really soon? Me, too. One the other hand, I am an ACE at doing laundry, so we’ll look tidy whilst being thoroughly disorganized…

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Some points of light to share: Tara Austen Weaver is a writer, editor, and traveler, and I went to grad school with her, which is the least of her claims to fame. She’s the author of The Butcher and the Vegetarian and she is also a darned fine foodie. Some of my best memories of grad school are reading her seamless prose about food and family in Japan, and so I want to assure you that her latest book, TALES FROM HIGH MOUNTAIN is going to be gorgeous. Tara writes about her life in Japan where she lived for five years, and the beautiful people she encountered. The best part? The proceeds from this book go to rebuilding Japan.

Says Tara: “I’m sending the little book I’ve written out into the world. It’s not the full story of my five years in Japan—just the first part (if there is interest, I will continue it). I’m selling it as a fundraiser, to raise money to continue supporting people who have had their lives shattered. A portion of the money will be donated directly to organizations doing work in the earthquake zone, a portion I may use to put in place some morale boosting efforts. There will be more information about that in the next month or so, along with some creative ways you may be able to participate (this could be fun!). They have to do the hard work of rebuilding, but we can cheer them along, remind them of hope and kindness.”

I’ll be sharing this link on all of my blogs. Please click through and look at Tara’s photography and find the link to purchase. TALES FROM HIGH MOUNTAIN is available for Kindle, in .pdf form, and Tara will list it for Nook if anyone is interested. Please pass the word along.

The other love of my heart, Reading Is Fundamental (RIF) has recently raised 4.9 million dollars to assure putting a million books into the hot little hands of young readers. I was so crushed when they lost their funding, but Carol Rasco is made of stern stuff, and she and her people really prevailed. It’s an honor to have been a teensy part of this. EVEN COOLER, now RIF and the Kidlitosphere have joined forces to give more books. “Kid Lit Con is establishing a fundraising relationship with Reading Is Fundamental, Inc. (RIF) which this year will take the form of encouraging contributions to be credited to KidLitCon. In the future the KidLitCon organizers will be working to establish new and exciting ways to contribute to the work of RIF.” I truly believe that reading is fundamental. Also, fun.

There are boxes calling my name – or calling me names, I can’t quite tell which yet. As Garrison Keillor always says, “Be well, do good work, and keep in touch.”

My possessions are breeding. Unfortunately, they are not breeding prettily like this butterfly.

Trying to pack, clean, and prepare to leave this place in just under a week, I am realizing that I need to take a vow of poverty. As the discoveries of lost earrings, piles of dust, and stray hangers drives me closer to pulling out all of my hair, What better time than now to completely ignore the chaos around me, and waste time participate in a vocabulary analysis? “TestYourVocab.com is part of an independent American-Brazilian research project to measure vocabulary sizes according to age and education, and particularly to compare native learning rates with foreign language classroom learning rates.”

I scored pretty well – 37, 200 – but as an English major and a writer, I’d BETTER have scored well, or all those student loans are for naught. The people creating the test are at Testyourvocab.com, and are looking for teens and kids to complete the test.

Surely there’s some piece of work you could be ignoring, to help them out?

It’s such a short test that you probably have more time to waste, er, spend. Howzabout a game of Knoword? This is a great game that has a lot in common with Jeopardy! in that it’s kind of backwards. You get word definitions, and the first letter of the correct word… and you have to quickly type it in. It’s a game of speed and recall, and will wind you up more and more tightly, the more correct words you get… because eventually you’ll either be stumped or screw up, and then the loud groaning will begin. It’s definitely a great way to sock away more words into your brainbox for a rainy day. After all, school is starting soon, right?

Yes. I had to say it out loud. School. Starting. Monday for my brother – his first year in college (Go, College Man, woot!), Tuesday for my sister, freshman year of high school (Go High School Girl, woot!) and Tuesday for my mom, and the two-year-old and the four year old nephewlets at her school. (Go Early Childhood Educators, woot!) The niecelet has another five weeks off before her last year of college – (Go Matriculating Senior, woot!) – and since all of these people (sans Mom) were a year old about a week ago, I feel incredibly old suddenly. Erg. Oh, well. A shout out to my school peeps: have a great year, guys!

Aaaand, that’s all from me. There’s a good chance that while my back has been turned, I’ve been gifted with another sixteen hangers and another stack of clothes. Next time I have a break, I’ll have to come back and play Fowl Words — or do a wordsearch, or…

Happy time wasting!

It’s not “bright” with that calm at all, as it’s been POURING now for days, but all is calm, at least.

Calm. Dreich (dark). Rainy. Without riots. Yes, without riots. I received an email from someone in publishing this week saying they were sorry that we were experiencing such awfulness — Um.

I hate the stereotype of the American, for whom geography is at times a shaky subject, but then I get these emails. So. Dearly beloved: London is a little more than FIVE hours away from here by train, and is in another country. Being concerned about riots here is the equivalent of worrying about someone experiencing smoke from grass fires in Arkansas when they live in California.

Everything is fine here – well, except the kitchen ceiling is leaking, and there are boxes stacked up to my chest in the living room. We’re moving! The leaky kitchen, next weekend, will no longer be my concern. We will resume our regularly scheduled irregular posting at that time.

Until then, keep a thought for the people in ENGLAND who are suffering and confused, for the ethnic minorities who, because of the nonsense will be under greater scrutiny than ever — even if they didn’t have anything to do with the rioting and looting. When you hear people frothing at the mouth at all of the destruction, in your comments, remember mercy – we who aren’t there and who maybe haven’t experienced unfairness and abuse by the authorities in the same way maybe don’t really even understand what this is about… but many people feel that with the sharp divide between rich and poor and brown and white in the United Kingdoms, that it has been a long time coming.

Change is hard. As we Americans know, regime change is sometimes impossibly hard. Let’s hope the change before Great Briton doesn’t bring more bloodshed in England or anywhere else in the UK and its commonwealth nations.

…just a little shout-out to the alma mater, since they so kindly sent me a t-shirt.

This Rosie is especially apropos, since Richmond and Oakland were the busy centers of the Bay Area female shipyard workers during WWII. Rosie was there, riveting away, but her name was the less iconic Geraldine, Wendy, Shirley, and Ronnie.

So, here’s to the strong, proud women of the Mills tradition – although the back of this shirt cracks me up. Everyone is smarter than Barbie. And if you’re not stronger than Ken, there’s a serious problem!

But, I can’t wait to wear this shirt to the gym.