Marian Allen's Blog, page 373

Caturday With Katya — Laser-Eyed Neighbors

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You’ve seen my laser-beam eyes, but I have to admit that Sweetie Pie and Ozzie have me beat. Do you think it’s because they’re younger than I am?

Here’s Sweetie Pie in full daylight. I like this picture, actually. If I had a room instead of an entire house, I would want this picture on my wall.

Here’s another one of her.

Ozzie wanted to get into the act. He sent his laser vision all the way from the basement.

How many eyes does he have, anyway?

I think my deadly death-ray gaze is milder than theirs because I don’t want to incinerate my Mom. Even though I know she’s immune to feline death-rays and sad puppy-dog eyes, I don’t want to take any chances. She’s a really good Mom, after all.

But, honestly, I don’t see how I could do better than Sweetie Pie. If they had an Animal Olympic event in deadly laser eye blasts, she would take the gold. As proof, I give you this final picture, taken with her on the basement steps at Granny’s house.

Could anybody beat that? I think not!

A WRITING PROMPT FOR ANIMALS: You’re ready to turn your deadly laser eyes on, but you withhold the blast. Why?

KG

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Slide No More Thanks To These Brilliant Things

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No, not diamonds. Although diamond-studded shoe soles would be AWESOME! But, no. If I need to walk on freezey things and I don’t want to slide my brains out, I put on my Yaktrax.

[image error]Do Yaktrax work?

Oh, honey, do they ever! My pal Jane gave me a pair, and I use them to walk back and forth to and from Mom’s when the footing is treacherous, as it is this week.

I am NOT being paid to write about this product, more’s the pity; I just think they’re terrific. If you get a pair and use them and slide anyway, don’t sue me. I’m just saying they work for ME, ‘kayz? And, no, that is neither me nor anybody I know in the picture. I totally ganked it from the Yaktrax website.

While we’re talking about slips and slides, why don’t we kick back and listen to a little Paul Simon. The song? What else but:

A WRITING PROMPT FOR YOU: A character has to cross a treacherous piece of ground. It doesn’t have to be ice.

MA

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Ice Everywhere Is Beautiful But Sad

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I have to tell you that I love me an ice storm, but only within reason. By “within reason,” I mean a very thin coating of ice on everything, followed by a quick thaw.

What we’ve gotten around here the past few times we had an ice storm is not within reason. We’ve had a thick coating of ice on everything, followed by weeks of sub-freezing temperatures.

The power lines are sagging. The trees are bending under the weight; limbs are breaking and falling. Not only does that do the trees no good at all, the limbs could fall on the power lines. Or, come to that, my poor little head.

So: ice is beautiful, but sad.

This is our beautiful river birch.

If you look closely at that picture, you can see the tiny icicles hanging from the clothesline.

Oh, dear, oh, dear.

A WRITING PROMPT FOR YOU: What is your main character’s attitude toward ice?

MA

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Protein By Way of Cackleberries — Eggs, That Is

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Regular readers (Hi, Jane!) know that I’m handling Mom’s food now, since she stopped doing well on Jevity liquid nutrition. Nothing against the product; it’s full of protein and vitamins and fiber and stuff. She did well on it for about a year, then not.

ANYWAY, her doctor suggested we try liquifying real food and putting that down her g-tube instead. So today, we got a call from a hospital nutritionist that Mom’s doctor asked to check on us and make sure Mom was getting the nutrition she needs.

After the questions-and-answers, she said we’re doing a great job! The only thing she wanted to make certain of was that Mom’s getting enough protein. She said eggs were the best source of protein.

SO, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, I GIVE YOU PROTEIN

These are poached eggs — or, as some child or other used to call them, posted eggs. Eggs. Cackleberries. Hen fruit. Yum.

The Smitten Kitchen has a procedure for posting poaching eggs, but this is not what I would do, if I were making it for myself and Charlie. For Mom, I just poached them in plain water.

If I were making them for myself and Charlie, I would have used vegetable broth or wine, with maybe some thyme or marjoram, but Mom can’t taste it, so I just used the water.

Whatever — as it was, I broke down and had one of these bad boys over buttered toast for supper, and very good it was, too. The other three are nice and soft but cooked and ready to toss in the blender with Other Stuff for Mom.

We still haven’t given up on her getting back the capacity to eat by mouth. Meanwhile, there’s the blender and the wonderful world of actual-factual food.

A WRITING PROMPT FOR YOU: Write a scene with eggs in it. Any kind of eggs.

MA

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Toasty Tuesday

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It’s supposed to stay cold today and we’re expecting freezing rain tonight, maybe ice-coated trees and powerlines overnight. What’s so toasty about that?

Well, this, that’s what:

Not Calcifer.

Yeah, baby! Our own pet fire! We used to have a raised hearth, which #4 daughter called “the smokeys” because we forgot to open the damper once and everybody was complaining about how smokey it was. Then that same #4 daughter, in an attempt to make us stop watching Yojimbo and play with her, ran through the room, fell upon the edge of the raised hearth, and hurt her head. Long story short about THAT incident. So Charlie tore the raised hearth out.

Now we stand on the floor-level hearth and enjoy basking in the warmth. When our front sides get sufficiently toasty, we turn around and toast our other sides.

#4 daughter’s late cat, Al, used to curl up on the tiles whenever we had a fire; we put the screen up to make sure no sparks popped out onto his fur. Now we keep it there to make sure no sparks pop out onto OUR fur. That toasty, who wants to be? Miss Havisham ain’t anybody here’s name.

A WRITING PROMPT FOR YOU: What kind of fire does your main character enjoy?

MA

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Humor in Genre, Guest Post By Floyd Hyatt

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The estimable Floyd Hyatt is with us again, this time exploring the topic of humor in genre (mystery, science fiction, and fantasy in particular, which makes the post spectacularly appropriate for this blog).

Take it away, Mr. Hyatt!

~*~

Writing Humor in Genre

This one will cause editors discomfort. Most attempts at writing humor, as humor, in genre, will contend with a steep acceptance curve among editors. Why is unclear. Perhaps because the base subject matter is itself, surreal. Successful examples, like Terry Pratchett, and his popular Discworld series, or

MomGoth’s idea of humor.

And now, because MomGoth loves her sweet little baby angels, she is delighted to inform you that dear Uncle Floyd has sent you an original story written just for you. Click on the link to read it. You mustn’t try to swipe it, though, because it belongs to Uncle Floyd. Don’t make me release the flying monkeys.

New Hires by Floyd Hyatt

A WRITING PROMPT FOR YOU: What sort of thing does your main character consider funny?

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SampleSunday – Connie Doesn’t Take Orders

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Do you ever wonder why I title these SampleSunday instead of Sample Sunday? I do it because Twitter has this hashtag #SampleSunday and I want to show up on it. So now you know.

My SampleSunday this week is another snippet from SIDESHOW IN THE CENTER RING, which I call “A comedy of bad manners.” This excerpt kinda shows why I call it that:

SampleSunday

SIDESHOW IN THE CENTER RING — excerpt
by Marian Allen

“I told him about last night,” Honey said. “About how you two tried to talk me into leaving him. He told me what was behind it, that you wanted to move in with him, and you were hoping to use me as bait.”

“Sure. Worms are the bait of choice for barracuda.”

Darryl laughed, and Honey shrugged off his arm.

“Honey,” I said, “believe me: I don’t want Darryl. It beats me what you want with him. He’s dangerous. He’s deadly. If he were a household product, he’d have a skull and crossbones on his label. I mean, there are the remains of a fine woman about you, but look at yourself tonight; just look at yourself–”

Honey slapped me, hard; harder than Darryl had when I’d blocked the bedroom stairs. The sharp, solid sound of it rang over the roof and through the party room. I wouldn’t have thought she had the strength.

She held her hand to her breast, as if she’d hurt herself on my face. Maybe she had; my cheek certainly felt like half of a two-car collision.

Darryl’s eyes shone, and his entire face was flushed.

“Hit her back.”

“What?” I said.

“Hit her back. She asked for it.”

Honey just stood there, willing to suffer whatever blows he directed toward her, even if they came from me. Her eyes looked at me, but they were empty, waiting for me to fill them for her.

“I don’t take orders,” I said. “I never will.”

~ * ~

Does that sound like a book you’d like to read? If so, here’s where you can get it. Coming soon to Barnes & Noble.

In paperback.

For Kindle.

A WRITING PROMPT FOR YOU: Is your main character good at taking orders? Why or why not? Write a scene where he/she does the opposite of what he/she would ordinarily do when given an order.

MA

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Caturday With Katya, Pictures At Last

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Katya Graymalkin here.

Today is Caturday, but it’s also the first of the month, so Mom has a new micro-mini story on her Hot Flashes page. So go read that and then come back here for the real post.

What a great Caturday! Mom’s home! Granny is a lot better, so Mom brought her stuff back and she’s sitting next to me right now.

She wanted to take pictures of me, of course, but I was a little bit mad about her being gone so long. I tried to duck away, but I finally sat for a Caturday portrait.

Mom who?

Run away!

Katya posing.

A WRITING PROMPT FOR ANIMALS: How do you punish your human for staying away for too long?

KG

 

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DIY Is Fun, Mostly – I Have Fun With DIY, Anyway

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DIY — Do It Yourself, in case you don’t know — has held fascination for me for as long as I can remember. I loved reading books about cavemen, Native Americans, castaways, and children fending for themselves or lost in caves or … you get the picture. If they had to form some sort of rudimentary lathe out of rock and sand, I was THERE, man.

I still love DIY, although it needs to be cheap and easy. And, of course, satisfying. That’s why I make bread and mayonnaise, right?

Here are some more DIY projects:

Homemade Laundry Powder — When I first heard about this, I was like, “What’s it made out of? Soap? You make soap with soap? Oooo, that’s so cool and complex. NOT.” But it really kinda is. I make this whenever I run low, which isn’t often, because it lasts for-EV-ver. Cheap. Easy. I’m with it.

While I’m talking about DIY laundry stuff, here is totally my new favorite: replacement for dryer sheets. I bought a couple of those nubby rubber dryer balls, and they pound everything soft and wrinkle-free, but they do nothing for static. These babies will take care of it. Cheap. Easy. Happy me.

I’ve been making smoothies for Mom to eat through her feeding tube, because something in her commercial formula was WAY NOT agreeing with her (don’t sue me, Jevity people, it just wasn’t). Know how you make DIY liquid food? You take food and then you liquify it.

DIY food juice:
green beans and lentils and kale
black beans and corn and mayo
chicken noodle soup

So now comes Frugality Gal with a brilliant DIY smoothie freezer pack. Now I am TOTALLY going to make up some freezer packs of food for Mom so she can just take ‘em out, heat ‘em up, and pour ‘em down the old tuberino.

Mom is feeling better, and I’m having a blast.

A WRITING PROMPT FOR YOU: A character has to do something DIY for the first time.

MA

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Ice, Ice, Baby; Traction On Ice

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When snow melts and freezes, guess what you get? That’s right: ICE!

Charlie went to the grocery yesterday. The roads were fine, but our driveway? Not so much. It’s gravel, see? So when the snow melts, all the little gravels turn into tiny little cups-o’-stone filled to the brim with water. And the water turns into solid cold H2O, aka freakin’ ICE.

So he got out fine. He got back fine. He pulled in here at Mom’s to drop off some bread and milk, and I thought he was going to have to move in. When he left, I watched him out of the window and he couldn’t get any traction. His wheels spun and whizzed. He tried backing and forwarding, backing and forwarding. He finally got some purchase and off he went.

Boo hoo. I wish he had had to move in.

What could he have done to get going on that ice a little sooner?

Well, he could have asked me to come out and push. Ha ha on that.

He could have come in and taken some cardboard or newspaper and put it on the ice behind and in front of the tires and used that to get some purchase.

He could have come in and taken some cat litter and put it on the ice behind and in front of the tires and used that to get some purchase.

So, there you have it: two good ways to get traction on ice. Trying to get me to push is not one of the two.

A WRITING PROMPT FOR YOU: A character gets stuck on the ice.

MA

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