Anna Scott Graham's Blog, page 20

Covid rebooted

 

Paxlovid was great in getting me healed. For one day. Now I'm in the throes of covid rebound, heavily congested and feeling like crap. Ah so, as Da Miri would say; live and learn.

I'm three quarters of the way into That Which Can Be Remembered. I haven't read it since releasing it and it's been a treat! And a welcome distraction as once again I'm isolating, although the two days of respite saw me all over our house, hugging my beloved, so I'm *hoping* he stays negative.

Time will tell, as it does for all things. For now if you need a trilogy steeped in love, intrigue, ranching, and fantasy, I heartily recommend this series, set in a world far away but close to my soul. Stay healthy folks!

Life rebooted

Blackberries are thick, just need time to ripen!

I'm home and very glad to be here. Three weeks have passed since I left for a sojourn that ended up being longer away than I had planned. Sometimes life works that way.

Re-entering my house, I felt to have been gone for ages, not sure if it was lingering effects of covid, my own age, or something less certain, but truly remarkable. Because I'm still feeling...not displaced, yet an intangible sense of alteration remains, like I didn't merely stay away longer than intended or dealt with a malady. It's like I've started a new chapter of my existence, which sounds alarming and more than a little dramatic, but I am a writer, melodrama part of my stock and trade.

It's like a fog has cleared, the mist of thinking I'm a lot younger than I actually am, lol. While hanging out with extended family, I gravitated to my sister-in-law, a dozen years my senior. Definitely three generations of us, but no longer am I among those under forty, hah! I was comfortable talking about various aches and pains with my SIL, because despite the years between us, I'm on my older side of the fence, no going back. A fascinating revelation that perhaps previously I wasn't comfortable claiming.

Yet other notions swirl around me, how brief is this life, and how little exterior noise in the guises of pop culture and social media matter, including this blog, ahem. Not that I plan to stop writing entries or fiction, only it's good to realize what is vital and what can be limited, excised even. All the trivia I used to think mattered decades ago means nothing to my daughter, and one day what currently seems to carry great importance will be just as useless.

What matters most is caring about and for one another in ways that cannot be misunderstood. Keeping the distractions to a minimum. Acknowledging the good and sharing those kindnesses. I'm fifty-eight years old, time speeding along so fast I can barely believe it's the middle of July. It's time for me to clear the deadwood, embracing the treasures. And to get the laundry into the dryer, lol.

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!