Anna Scott Graham's Blog, page 19

Staying humble

 

Now I'm reading Gracious Mysteries, the second novel in my That Which Can Be Remembered series. The page below struck me, in my current predicament, the need for humility in moments of helplessness. How often when I feel helpless do I wish for an immediate end to the situation. Yet what would occur if I embraced the uncertainty, not reveling in it, merely accepting I am NOT in control of everything.

Life slows to a near-crawl when illness intrudes, and it doesn't become faster waiting to rejoin typical activities. I have a long list of To Do's, augmented now by all I've been editing, lol. Again I need to remain right in this moment, even acknowledging this post wasn't planned, but I finished The Possibility of What If, and I don't have much else to do but read while waiting. So here's an entry about patience, awareness, and gratitude.

Keeping busy

 

While in seclusion of sorts, I started reading The Possibility of What If, a novel I published two years ago. It's the first of a series, set in a faraway realm with fantastical elements, spiritual ones too. Definitely written in a post-covid era, I enhanced a love story with a road trip, or vice versa. Reading it now, I'm reminded of how frightening were those initial months of COVID-19, and how far we've come.

I'm also pleased with the writing, hehehe. And I'm grateful for something to keep myself occupied as I await returning to my usual realm, which feels similarly distanced as where this novel takes place. It was my first foray in a fantasy genre, yet grounded by viable storylines and plausible characters trying to find their ways in a new land, much as my husband and I were when I wrote it, moving to Humboldt County for retirement.

I'll probably finish this book today, thank goodness the second installment, Gracious Mysteries, awaits. The entire series, That Which Can Be Remembered, is free at major online retailers. If you're looking to escape from the summer heat or winter's chill, download your copies today.

July storms

Today my daughter tested negative! Her girls, and husband, were thrilled as you might imagine. I'm grateful she's feeling better, and I continue to progress through mild symptoms, thankful for Paxlovid. 

Last night a whopper thunderstorm proffered the evening's entertainment; all of us sat on the back deck watching as thunder and lightning heralded the fury. I'd been working on a playlist, finishing it in bed while rain and wind continued to pelt the landscape, the sky flashing from continued bolts. I listened to it as I went to sleep, then again this morning, stirring story ideas for my current series as well as further thoughts on America's political horizon. I don't want to bring current events into this blog, but suffice to say a storm has been swirling in this nation, and I don't know how it will unwind.

At least I can control my novels, or attempt to reign in characters trying to stage coups. And actually what I recorded in a Books note was just a little twist for a future installment, yet it acts as inspiration; one of these days I'll be home, feeling better, writing even. Even at the lowest ebbs, new days hearken.

If I feel so motivated, I'll put the playlist on the blog. I'm writing these posts on my phone, so it's a lot of intricate text-type typing, not super conducive to lengthy entries. Yet there's not much else going on, so perhaps I'll list the songs. If nothing else I am stoked for a return to my usual haunts, and so grateful for my daughter's recovery. I'm right behind her, lol.

Updated: check the WIP & Playlists page for the July Storms playlist.

And then covid

Let me preface this post to note that as far as my husband and I are aware, neither of us had yet suffered through covid. I have now crossed that threshold in quite a dramatic, then mellow manner. Let me explain....

A few days after my eldest daughter's family arrived, that beloved gal tested positive for covid. She began isolating while the rest of us enjoyed plentiful card games and other pastimes. I think my granddaughters are now as hooked on Go Fish as me, lol. Yet on Wednesday evening, walking back from the village ice cream shop, my feet ached more than usual. I chalked it up to two nights of poor sleep, assuming I'd feel better in the morning.

My Thursday began with a headache, so I ate a little something, then took ibuprofen. A cup of tea followed, innocent enough, however my stomach wasn't pleased. Within the hour I was perched over the loo, losing my breakfast. A blip, I wondered, but I didn't mind taking the covid test brought to me in between visits back to the loo. Sure enough, the test line emerged even before the control line did. And at the end of fifteen minutes, both lines were plain as day.

The day became a trek back and forth from bed to the loo while back home my husband was arranging for prescriptions to be filled. At four p.m. I took Zofran, then thirty minutes later the first dose of Paxlovid. I fell asleep for two hours, waking to my daughter and sister-in-law with worried faces. My pulse and oxygen levels were checked, fluids administered. I was pretty loopy for a good while, still felt nauseous, but didn't lose anything more. By ten p.m. another dose of Zofran was ingested, sleep to follow. I stirred a few times during the night, but quickly returned to slumber.

At five this morning I woke feeling so much better than yesterday. Took another dose of Paxlovid, more ibuprofen, but Zofran wasn't necessary. The difference between yesterday and today is more than stark; Thursday I was pummeled into near submission, I don't recall the last time I suffered any stomach bug. Today I'm tired, but am not plagued by body aches, sore throat or sniffles. There's a slightly metallic taste in my mouth, a Paxlovid side effect, otherwise I'm okay.

I don't know if never having endured covid led to how my gut was attacked, or just the random nature of the malady. My daughter had body aches and head cold symptoms, and is still feeling meh. I know I've been blessed to not previously dealt with covid, always getting vaccinated. Was it luck, fate, I don't know. But now I have a modicum of antibodies, not as many as I would have possessed, and I'm VERY GRATEFUL to be feeling as good as I am regardless.

I was supposed to fly home tomorrow, but will take that journey next week. I'm hanging out in my room today, but will join the rest tomorrow wearing an N-95 mask. I guess I wanted to document my experience in part to note how effective is Paxlovid, Zofran too. And to urge that despite these marvelous drugs, taking appropriate steps are still vital. Covid is treatable, but it's still no fun. Stay healthy, keep cool, and I'll do the same.

Where peace endures

Just a brief post from the Midwest, noting how serene is a large lake and time with a beloved who I have had the privilege of calling my sister for over thirty-five years. Along with her partner, we enjoyed colourful lights along with lake's perimeter, which I managed to snap rather successfully, lol.

For three decades I've been blessed to call this section of lakeside another home, and always it garners calm in my heart. Wishing you an equally restful day steeped in joy and the knowledge all is mysteriously or obviously well!

Stepping into the great unknown

Flowers at home that the deer ignored. I wonder what of them will remain when I return....

Today's title refers both to my upcoming Midwestern holiday and what I might write when I get back. And sew, but the sewing is really more for later this year, while the fictional prose definitely relates to what I hope to accrue from mid-July onward.

Well, in mid-July I'm getting a tooth extracted, but after I recover from that.... Then it will be all about the noveling!

I've done a fair amount of traveling this year, more than usual, and while I adore time with beloveds and investigating new places, I also love writing. I miss writing. I haven't written anything solid in months. Revisions are fine; they're necessary and kinda easy (at times) and a change of pace. But writing....

Crafting prose and dialogue makes my pulse race, my heart flutter, my brain happy, and puts my soul into a sphere that, well, proffers a creative joy none of my other hobbies offer. Writing provides personal satisfaction, artsy thrills. It has been my non-loved one passion for over seventeen years. I am itching to write!

Oddly enough, the great unknown if you will, what I want to write isn't my new series. LOL! What I'm hoping to work on is a book I started four years ago but didn't complete, a sequel of sorts to a novel I penned over a decade ago. I found this lost story recently, have read it over three times. I want to give it a conclusion, although I may not do more than finish it, then tuck it back safely into a hard drive and flash drive. Or maybe I'll edit it and release it, who knows? The great unknown is good for ambiguity, and boy other than wanting to complete this tale, I'm really ambiguous about it.

I'm using it as a springboard. I'm a little apprehensive about returning to the new series, in I'm not sure how to approach Book 5. So best I write something else, and by the time I'm ready for Book 5, Book 5's agenda will be ready for me.

I probably won't be posting anything significant for a couple of weeks, so I wish you all a lovely fortnight! May summer's lengthy days, or winter's brief light, give you all you need for rest, relaxation, and inspiration.

I think I can, I think I can....

 

Minus the four missing blocks, it already takes up most of a queen bed.

Gathered the gumption to again lay my Alexandria quilt on a flat surface to assess its current form.

Which is a stitched center surrounded by a plethora of hexagon blocks in varying states of readiness, four more required to reach one stage of.... Not completion, but to where I can set aside a big medallion, then begin the next stage.

Which sounds like a hop, skip, and a mere jump from what lies on the guest bed. Few things could be further from the truth.

The basis of which is do I have the guts (and gumption) to handsew blue and yellow blocks to an already sizeable center, then add pink and green blocks.

(I think I can, I think I can....)

So the honest truth to this quilt is that I upsized it from Jodi Godfrey's original design. Her 1.5" shapes became two inches, although that is the size she used when first making this quilt years ago. When she turned it into a pattern for her club, she shrunk the shapes a wee bit, but the ensuing design was still BIG. In enlarging the shapes, I have chosen to reduce the size of the pattern. I'll be making the same size quilt, but using fewer paper pieces.

That's assuming I go further than merely making two more pink and two more green blocks.

(I think I can, I think I can....)

It's easy for me to lay everything out, easy to sit at night and stitch, easy to write this post about all of that. Easy to forget how badly my right shoulder hurt after sewing the inner design, which hasn't found a home other than a spare bed. Easy to think, "Well, I've done so much on it, and have so much prepped, and, and, and...."

And it would so SO DANG COOL when finished. And wow, I'd feel accomplished. And, and, and....

(I think I can, I think I can....)

Time will tell, as it usually does. In the interim, Happy Wednesday!

A nice milestone

 

Photo courtesy of my husband.

While much in our garden has been attacked by critters, the green beans seem to escaped unscathed. Fingers crossed these purple bean plants, pictured above, as well as the regular green bush variety will continue to grow well!

In other news.... Sewing has been a pleasure, but it's not the only joy. This morning I finished revising what will be Book 6 of The Hawk, and wow, what a treat this section has been. Fast-paced action and plenty of it makes for a quick read, amazing this author how deftly a large cast with lots of drama seamlessly winds between characters old and new. I completed not only what will be the sixth installment, but also the second volume, from where I have been reading. One more remains, broken into, ahem, four books.

Yeah, it's quite the saga, not at all what I had initially envisioned over a dozen years ago when the idea popped into my head. But sometimes that's how life, and books, goes. Not that I bit off more than I could chew, but over time one story line begat others, and I was blessed enough to simply write, leaving the edits for another day.

Six years after completion, those revisions are ongoing, lol! At least once quilts are finished, that's truly it, other than minor repairs. Yes I use my fave cozies often, but while snuggling under them I merely admire my handiwork. I don't plot out how to remove this or that block, let me tell you.

Not all my novels get the work-over The Hawk is receiving, or not all those I publish. Three are in print and I have NO PLANS to poke at them, mostly because I don't want to go through the hassle of updating the print versions. But ebooks are fair game, and The Hawk is getting a thorough viewing. I can't imagine doing this again, in part that the saga is so lengthy, and my edits have been minimal, which says I've given this behemoth plenty of attention in the past. Now seems a good time to make these alterations, mostly in how I have split it up into ten novels. Not sure when I'll release the first, perhaps after my Smashwords account switches over to Draft2Digital. I had considered publishing this tale before that, but now over halfway done, best that I wait for the switch.

Or maybe I'll change my mind after my impending holiday to the Midwest. I've realized that presuming this or that is fine, but doesn't mean my assumptions are set in stone. Flexibility is paramount in all endeavors. 

For now, I'm ready to leave The Hawk at home. If somehow a real-life hawk could guard the green beans, both my husband and I would appreciate it!

Necessity is the mother of....

 

Thanks to my better half for photo op assistance.

Getting something accomplished. Invention too, but in this instance, four rows of my Lavender quilt are now stitched together, mostly for the large triangles I needed for another project.

LOL! This quilt has been around for at least three years, maybe four. It dwells in a tote in the living room, patiently waiting its turn in the queue. For the last few months I've pulled out that plastic box, rummaged through blocks made up of four-inch triangles and two-inch half hexagons, realizing I had nearly enough blocks gathered to start the putting-together process. Yet the Cornflower quilt edged out Lavender, other shinies always relegating this beauty back to its spot near the sofa.

Well, until I decided I needed YET ANOTHER PRETTY, which requires lots of four-inch triangles. Hence Lavender stepping onto the sewing stage, and now about a third of it is completed, assuming I make this quilt a dozen rows in length.

Lately this is how my creative life has emerged, in a scattered but lovely manner, unplanned yet cohesive. I wholly enjoyed designing which blocks went where, at first adding the proper half-blocks to the ends of row one, using whole blocks for row two, then reverting back to half blocks for rows three and four. And now that I have plenty of large triangles and half-hexagons popped from their previous sleeves, I can cut in half those shapes so I can make more half-blocks for the ends of further rows. Yay!

An impending holiday will intrude on Lavender's immediate progress, yet when I come home, more stitching on this quilt could very well occur. There's no bending of papers in attaching rows to one another, merely straight forward stitching that requires just a little niggling to make the corners meet. This quilt isn't slated to be gifted soon, but maybe that will alter. Perhaps this year heaped in slow stitching is meant to wrap up projects itching for their moment in the proverbial sun. I'm not going to question it, only enjoy the process and the emerging beauty. And wonder if when I'm done, will Lavender end up like Cornflower, quilts I hope to stitch again if time permits.

Future Me isn't saying, but I know that gleam in her eyes. Hehehe, she seems to giggle, as pretty fabrics call my name.

One of the most beautiful songs

Sunset on Mum's last day, June 2018

Around the northern hemisphere summer solstice, I get a little introspective. My mum died six years ago at this time of year, and even now I still miss her, maybe I always will. Better that one's parents go first certainly, but she wasn't even seventy, shite!

Recently the band Camera Obscura released an album, their first since 2013 and the first since their keyboardist Carey Lander died of osteosarcoma in 2015. My husband put the digital files on my computer and yesterday I listened to some of the.... It's not a record, like in vinyl, but Look to the East, Look to the West is an album, and on it is "Sugar Almond", the tenth of eleven songs, a tune Tracyanne Campbell wrote for Lander.

I'm listening to it now, Campbell's melancholy vocals enhanced only by a piano, probably played by Donna Maciocia who was brought into the band for a gig alongside Belle and Sebastian in their Boaty Weekender cruise. Maciocia became Camera Obscura's new keyboardist, as well as providing backing vocals as Lander had. Carey Lander was thirty-three when she passed.

In Tracyanne's haunting yet uplifting song, Lander feels still alive, perhaps like how my mum seems vibrant, if missing. Where did these women go, far too soon for the likings of all who loved them. I believe Mum's with my dad in heaven, and I guess I think Carey is there too, but probably not hanging out with my parents, unless heaven is like that, slips of memory or whatever we become flitting just past where we corporeal slugs can grasp them so tightly, they would never be lost.

Maybe that's all life after death is, floating around where they can't be seen, except at certain times of the year, birthdays and deathdays belonging to them, and to others tugging on our heartstrings.

Because in "Sugar Almond", a little part of myself warbles along with Tracyanne. While I won't proffer lyrics in this post, they can be found here. Please give them a read, they're truly amazing. And if you can, listen to the song, the notes of which pop up and down like how it is when moving on from someone so beloved within your life. Even six years later I'm a little maudlin, especially on a gray day as Humboldt is giving us today, a day the same colour as Carey's eyes, according to Campbell, the same hue as a Glasgow sky.