Marian Allen's Blog, page 424

Bes’ Fing Inna Wurld

Here is the happiest thing there is: a blue-tailed lizard.

When I went to the therapist, back in 2001, and she told me to pay attention to the little things that gave me joy, the first thing I saw when I left her office was a blue-tailed lizard.

I don’t know why these little guys delight me so, but they do. They turn up on our back porch or front bricks now and again. They always lift my heart. I got a picture of this one, and I wanted to share him with you.

A WRITING PROMPT FOR YOU: What little thing brings joy to your main character’s heart?

MA

What’s Cold, Gray, Hard, And In The Refrigerator?

No, not those leftovers back in the right-hand corner. Guess again.

I’ll give you a hint: Have you ever been to college and lived in a dorm?

No, not your roommate’s retainer.

Give up?

Well, one of the stories I’m writing takes place in a college dorm in 1968. Back in those dim, dead days, we didn’t have little refrigerators in our rooms, children; we had one common kitchenette for the whole dorm. Ah, Jane, you remember, don’t you?

When you share a refrigerator with a bunch of other people, you quickly learn that anything unsecured is anybody’s. So one of a freshman’s first purchases was a lockbox, in which to keep one’s food.

One would think that a food thief wouldn’t scruple to steal an entire lockbox, but I don’t remember that happening. One went to the store, one bought, say, a package of steak (or, as we called it for some forgotten reason, snake), one brought it home, and one locked it in the box until needed. Leftovers were also locked in the box.

Sometimes, people left school or left the dorm or went home for a long holiday and abandoned their leftovers, lockbox, and all. Those people may — I don’t say they will, mind you, but I do say they may — burn in hell.

I confess, I’ve envied various people their jobs and perqs from time to time, but one person I have never envied: Whoever had the job of cleaning the dorm fridge at the end of the semester.

And that’s enough of that.

A WRITING PROMPT FOR YOU: A character gets even with a food thief.

MA

New Place In Town

So I was driving along, and, on the corner of Revolving and Door (not their real names, but that location has had so many businesses since we moved to Corydon I’ve run out of fingers and toes)… I lost my place. Oh, yes — There’s a new store.

It’s called Old Town Store, and it’s supremely cool! I have to apologize for the orange junk in the photo, but they’re doing something municipal at all the corners, and we’ve got more orange-and-white barrels than the clown act at a rodeo.

You may not be able to read all the writing on the windows, but one word which was new to me is MANTIQUES. As you might guess, these are antiques calculated to appeal to macho manly men: old Coke machines, license plates, rusty tractor seats. “Cheesecake,” I added to the proprietor’s list of items, pointing to a pin-up picture. “Is that what that’s advertising?” he asked. So he learned a new word, too. I told him, “Cheesecake is what you call a sexy picture of a woman. A sexy picture of a man is called beefcake.” He didn’t know that, either. So we both learned something, which was most satisfactory.

If you’re on Facebook, you can see Old Town Store’s page. Otherwise, you’ll just have to go in person. Oh, darn!

They have glass electrical insulators, blue glass bottles, pictures, furniture, clocks, records, flatirons, magazines, and stuff I didn’t even recognize. The purple swirly bowling ball is gone, though; I saw a guy buy it.

Since today is Tuesday, I’m posting at Fatal Foodies, on the topic of feeding a kid whose teeth hurt because of braces.

A WRITING PROMPT FOR YOU: A character finds something in an antique store that unearths a buried memory.

MA

Impossible

The date of this post says it’s Labor Day, but it’s actually Labor Day Eve. I’m trying to write a post tonight so I can relax tomorrow, but it’s impossible.

Why, you ask? Because Charlie is in the next room, listening to a dissection of Arnold Schoenberg’s Pierrot Lunaire, that’s why.

Pierrot Lunaire is like nothing else on earth. The first time I heard it, I was like, “Eeeesch!” but I’ve heard in several times now, and I swear, as God is my witness, I love it. Of course, I love Philip Glass, whose music was once described as sounding like an angel having a nervous breakdown.

If you want to see what I’m struggling with, here’s one of the songs:

 

YES, I SAID I LOVE IT, AND I MEAN IT ! ! !

But I can’t concentrate on writing a post. So I won’t.

Instead, I will refer you to this post about Punctuation Inside Dialogue on Dan Persinger’s awesomely awesome blog, Last Editor Standing. Dan is a fellow serial comma fan and is in many other ways a strong contender for the Person Who Deserves To Be Called Awesome award.

Have a good and safe Labor Day, babies.

A WRITING PROMPT FOR YOU: A character learns to love another’s music which, at first, he or she considers noise.

MA

#SampleSunday – Sestina and SAGE

I’ve put up the Prologue and Chapter 1 of my forthcoming Hydra Publications release, SAGE: Book 1 – The Fall of Onagros.

But wait! That’s not all!

Here is one of two sestinas I’ve written. I wrote one and swore I’d never write another one, but damn if I didn’t. This was written when our #4 daughter was in high school. It was a tough time all around, but I got a poem out of it, so….

Oh, the McGraw Hill Online Learning Center says this about sestinas:

Sestina

A poem of thirty-nine lines and written in iambic pentameter. Its six-line stanza repeat in an intricate and prescribed order the final word in each of the first six lines. After the sixth stanza, there is a three-line envoi, which uses the six repeating words, two per line.

I ain’t sayin’ it’s good, I’m just sayin’ I wrote it.

Hell in a Small, Closed Circle
by Marian Allen, Copyright 1998

Tomorrow's Sunday. First, I go to Mass,
then take my daughter to a college fair,
then bring her home in time to meet her friends
to play some Shadowrun--a role-play game.
they're playing here tomorrow, in her room
upstairs, and she can hardly wait till then.

I had kids home in high school now and then,
sometimes a few, sometimes a pallid mass
of artsy types. My mother left the room
so we would feel more comfortable. Fair
and cool, we thought. But I am not so game
and don't quite like to disappear. Her friends--

the Shadowrunners--all her gamer friends--
are boys. That would have been a scandal then.
She says that times have changed, but does the game
of male and female change? or does the mass
accretion of biology, the fair
(or is it carnival?) of culture leave no room

for off-screen girl-boy friendship? leave no room
for me to blandly host this pod of friends?
I really like these kids! It isn't fair
of God to send her such neat friends and then
boost my maternal fears to such a mass
of mental anguish over just a game.

Sometimes I wonder if it's just a game
with her--this entertaining in her room
of boys, to see how agonized a mass
of panic she can cultivate. Her friends
and she could stay downstairs and play. But then
I wouldn't worry. Is she being fair

to me? And is suspicion being fair
to her and to the kids? They want to game
and nothing else. ...But what was wrong back then
is still wrong. Isn't it? She says her room
is not a "bed" room, just a room. Her friends
won't think a thing about it. So this mass

invades tomorrow, then up to her room.
I will be fair and let her play her game
upstairs with friends. But first, I go to Mass.

Moms, can I get an “AMEN”?

A WRITING PROMPT FOR YOU: Two people disagree about what’s safe/appropriate in a situation they’ve both experienced under different circumstances.

MA

#Caturday – MomGoth Is Also An Artist!

This is a picture I did of Miss Tiffany back in the day. I did more than one picture of her, all from the back. Partly, this is because I cannot draw cat faces, but partly it’s because her back was so eloquent. I love the way a cat’s shoulder blades poke up like wings (devil wings).

It makes me very happy to look at this picture.

I hope you enjoy it, too.

Meanwhile, it’s a new month, and there’s a new Hot Flash up. Also a link on the Free Reads page to “Pile-Up”, my latest story at the Race To The Hugo Awards site.

A WRITING PROMPT FOR YOU: A character wants a picture painted or drawn of a pet and another character thinks he or she is nuts for wanting it.

MA

Two Happy Things — No, More Than Two

Okay, first, Mom is taking me to O’Charley’s tonight for Prime Rib! We were going to wait until Magdalena’s reopens, but O’Charley’s, in a burst of corporate jollity, sent my husband, Charlie, a discount card and today is the last day it’s good. Charlie detests eating out. We can only suppose they sent everybody named Charles a card.

Second, I forgot to tell you in yesterday’s list that I also successfully jiggered my electronic tablet to not drop me off the internet every time it loaded the Google Search. GEEK ALERT Turns out it’s a conflict between a new Javascript on the Google Search page and “older” (a year or two) tablets. Can’t be resolved. If this is happening to you, disable the Wi-Fi, load the browser, select a different default search engine, set a different home page than Google browser, and set your default bookmark to something other than Google browser. Then close the browser and re-enable wi-fi. END GEEK ALERT

Third, we’re getting three foody places in the area soon: Magdalena’s will be opening soon, in a new location but still nearby; Point Blank Brewing Company will soon be opening in the old Magdalena’s location; and a shop selling “wine, cheese, gourmet food, gifts” called Red, White, and Blush is getting ready to open where Colokial was. Hmm-hmm-hmmm-hmmmm

Okay, meanwhile, here are some website that make-a me happy:

ZooBorns – Who wouldn’t be happy, looking at pictures of cute little baby animals?

I Think; Therefore, I Yam (Cogito Ergo Spud) – One of the funniest women on God’s green earth. This link leads directly to one particular keyboard-baptizing post, but they’re all good.

Life On The Muskoka River – Another of the funniest women on God’s green earth, eh?

I got my hair cut yesterday, and had compliments on it, which rather saddened me, since it will never look that way again. I don’t style my own hair; I enter into negotiations with it.

Tomorrow is Caturday, you know, and Sunday is Sample Sunday. Oh! And tomorrow is the first of the month, too, so I’ll have a new Hot Flash for you and the three Summer Reading Trail stories will vanish from this blog, so go to the Free Reads page and find them while you can!

A WRITING PROMPT FOR YOU: Write a scene with beer, good food, hair and cute little baby animals in it. Canada is optional.

MA

Gifts Of The Universe

It’s been a Sparks-O’-Joy kind of month for dear old MomGoth (me), all in all. I’ll see if I can remember everything:

Edits on SAGE were few and painless
Found my missing watch
Found my missing glass sweater *
Found my missing flash drives
Successfully installed new memory and hard drive on my desktop computer
Successfully installed Linux Ubuntu on same computer
Successfully synced browser and mail between desktop and laptop

*Not a sweater made out of glass, but a kind of foam thing you put a cold glass into so the glass sweats into the thing instead of onto the furniture.

The only niggling nag still outstanding is the picture I painted to illustrate something in SAGE, which is missing, along with some of my other small paintings. I expect them all to turn up, though. It’s been that kind of a month.

A WRITING PROMPT FOR YOU: A character finds something he or she has been looking for without success.

MA

Cutting Edge

I persuaded personal chef Lana Cullison, far beneath whom I was privileged to work during World on the Square, to write a post for me on the subject of choosing and caring for a Chef Knife.

ME: Lana, I was greatly impressed with how well your knife sliced through my flesh the vegetables during prep work. Tell me something about professional kitchen knives.

Lana Cullison

LANA: When choosing a knife for kitchen use, choose one that will last, holds an edge, and fits well in your hand. The workhorse of knives in any kitchen should be the Chef Knife whose carbon stainless steel blade ranges from 4 to 12 inches in length on the average. It is designed to cut through fruits and vegetables with ease and make you look good doing it.

ME: Yes, red has always been my color.

LANA: The beauty of the knife is in the glint of the blade and the sound of the cool metal gliding through vegetable fibers as a hushed swoosh and tap, tap, tap as it dances across the cutting board. But the tool is not for the timid.

ME: Okay, now you’re scaring me. Speaking of things that scare me, I’m guessing a good knife is going to be pricey, yes?

LANA: The initial cost is justified by the workmanship involved in forging its blade impervious to rust and stains and to a hardness that holds a razor sharp edge. The handle is bolstered to the blade and houses the tang which runs from the spine of the blade. This swordlike structure gives the knife added strength and durability and the nature of the handle gives it character be it wood, steel, or hardened plastic.

ME: Swordlike, eh? I like the sound of that! So now we know what to look for and what to expect. How do we care for our kitchen sword?

LANA: This high performance tool never goes in the dishwasher, demands respect in its storage and transport, and requires skilled honing to maintain its keen edge between culinary tasks.

ME: Respect? I saw how you brought it to the kitchen: wrapped in aluminum foil!

LANA: That is a safety tip. The point and edge are protected with foil which is a buffer between the edge and the material you then place it in. Foil is to protect the towel in which holds the knife, otherwise the knife will cut through cloth or paper.

ME: Yeesh! How do you store it at home?

LANA: The knife is stored in a block at home or carried in a tool bag in a sheath (foil, cardboard or plastic).

ME: Any Thou-Shalt-Nots?

LANA: Dishwashers and not honing the edge regularly with a steel dulls a knife.

ME: Understood. Thank you so much for visiting me here today!

A WRITING PROMPT FOR YOU: Ask a professional to explain the important features and care of a tool important in his or her work.

MA

The Dog Who Dug His Own Grave

Once upon a time, there was a dog who insisted on wallowing in the flower beds. The Master and Mistress scolded him when he did it, and the Mistress praised him when he didn’t do it. The Master put big lumpy rocks in the flower beds to discourage the wallowing, but the dog pushed the rocks aside or curled himself around them.

The Master was particularly proud of the hosta garden, which was, indeed, a thing of beauty. He took particular pains to roust the dog out of this large bed.

One day, the Master said, “Well, he can be taught. I believe I’ve finally trained him to stay out of that hosta bed.”

The Mistress congratulated him, and petted the dog and gave him a bone.

Then the truth came out: The dog had, in fact, been trained to sneak into the center of the hosta bed and wallow there, with his secret sanctum screened from sight by the hostas at the edge of the patch.

And the Master and Mistress solemnly agreed that, when the dog passes — by whatever method — that will be a well-fertilized hosta bed, indeed.

The End

It being Tuesday, I’m posting at Fatal Foodies on the topic of The Deadly Microwave of Fatal Doom.

A WRITING PROMPT FOR YOU: What is your main character’s favorite flower?

MA