from a place of wrath and tears
Am back.
Stuff happened.
Let's make this a new beginning,
but mind, easy does it.
Slow steps.
& small sips.
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Showing posts with label shtuff. Show all posts
Showing posts with label shtuff. Show all posts
Roller-coaster
Sometimes life is like a bucking bull. And no amount of clinging on is going to make him change his mind about throwing you.
So, today I figured out that trying to deal with old men, as they play at immovable object in a board, is pretty much like dealing with prissy bitches back in my catholic high-school days: what's important is not the work that needs doing and whether it gets done, but the holy sanctity of the pecking order. Everything is a popularity contest, and I never won those way back when, and I don't see why that would change now.
I really can't summon the energy to deal with grown people on that level anymore. So I'm getting off this crazy bull's back and look at things of neglect that are staring sadly at me with lopsided grins from the corner of the arena. Spring's in the air, after all, and I've got plenty of trees in my garden that need killing...
So, today I figured out that trying to deal with old men, as they play at immovable object in a board, is pretty much like dealing with prissy bitches back in my catholic high-school days: what's important is not the work that needs doing and whether it gets done, but the holy sanctity of the pecking order. Everything is a popularity contest, and I never won those way back when, and I don't see why that would change now.
I really can't summon the energy to deal with grown people on that level anymore. So I'm getting off this crazy bull's back and look at things of neglect that are staring sadly at me with lopsided grins from the corner of the arena. Spring's in the air, after all, and I've got plenty of trees in my garden that need killing...
flux continued
this week running around to get what's needed done to get this job which already had me running around for the last two weeks. Yes, a job! Ain't that cool?
And of course, now also running around to get the stuff done I kept postponing since the life of the jobless stretched out into infinity and well who cares when this or that trash finally gets brought to the recycling center? Well it doesn't stretch into infinity, not really, so...
And this weekend we're off to Paris to see some World Championship class Fencing, which means some more flux, as I'll need to plan the packing carefully.
I've got this feeling this month, even if it's only just starting, is going to be over in a blink of an eye.
But the good news/job prospect has Cow Watcher singing with joy. I mean seriously, soon there will be trains again, and cows, and no way to avoid writing.
Meanwhile I've finished reading Bacigalupi's The Windup Girl, currently into Palmer's Red Claw.
And of course, now also running around to get the stuff done I kept postponing since the life of the jobless stretched out into infinity and well who cares when this or that trash finally gets brought to the recycling center? Well it doesn't stretch into infinity, not really, so...
And this weekend we're off to Paris to see some World Championship class Fencing, which means some more flux, as I'll need to plan the packing carefully.
I've got this feeling this month, even if it's only just starting, is going to be over in a blink of an eye.
But the good news/job prospect has Cow Watcher singing with joy. I mean seriously, soon there will be trains again, and cows, and no way to avoid writing.
Meanwhile I've finished reading Bacigalupi's The Windup Girl, currently into Palmer's Red Claw.
d'oh
Yup, still alive a good beating with a sabre and a flu-now-turning-into-snotfest later. Been a naughty girl with the digiblippery, I know, I'm sure y'all missed me heaps. Promise I'll do better. Soon. Too much things in flux right now.
Shtuff
Alrightie, finished reading Sykes' Tome of the Undergates. Did laundry, cleaned windows. Filled 3/4 big weight salvage bag with crap from the garden and shed and whatnot. Got one non-review up.
Now gonna cut the last grapes off the vines and perhaps round up some apples, and then I think I've been quite productive enough for an asthmatic person disabled by a cold-that-simply-won't-break-through-but-still-festers-in-the-airways.
Wish Cow Watcher would stop chasing real devils and having imaginary conversations with real people, and occupy itself with stories and fantasy people.
Now gonna cut the last grapes off the vines and perhaps round up some apples, and then I think I've been quite productive enough for an asthmatic person disabled by a cold-that-simply-won't-break-through-but-still-festers-in-the-airways.
Wish Cow Watcher would stop chasing real devils and having imaginary conversations with real people, and occupy itself with stories and fantasy people.
Cucumbers
So while I play All's Quiet at the Waterfront, let's not drown this blog in silence. I know how much you missed my non-review, beloved digiblips, even if that was a secret promise to myself and not to you (like duh, if you hadn't figured that out yet). You certainly missed the weekly adventures of my alter ego, not to mention my witty insights into whatever is hot news in Belgium.
To cover your pain I'll just copy paste three little items from my "something to talk about when it's cucumber time"-file. Cucumber Time equals what you English folks call the Silly Season now, but apparently at some period of time your English tailors also used cucumber time to indicate slow season. Now wondering whether it has something to do with the fact that pickling cucumbers/gherkins is not like, preserving the most nutritious or tasty foodstuffs, so not really working on surviving winter (imagine having to live on pickled gherkins all winter!). It's really not a heroic work either, not like fitting a couple of pumpkins into a jar or making chutney or sumfin.
Anyways, for your pleasure I'll trot out some brainfarts, like news is wont to do in such times, with stories about a Taiwanese dog helping old people crossing the street, or quaint medieval left-over habits of some village you have never heard of even if it's somewhere in your own country...
SF/F/H in my mind sounds as Sfaich.
Meatball: Oh you write then? And what sorts of stories you write?
Me: Sfaich
I know, correctly pronounced it should be Esefefaich. But that sounds as if you've got a mental disease. But then, what do you write again?
On "blogging community": Half the time I don't even read the crap you spout into cyberspace, digiblips, I just mark that shit read and move on. I can only follow two or maybe three blogs in depth, because there's also real world and news and silly stuff like that out there. And let's be honest, 2 or 3 people does not a community make. The whole format is also wrong, since you can't give and take on the same level. You yell something at the world, and maybe some of the world yells back. Is that valuable communication? Is that relation building?
What everybody seems to have forgotten about in light of e-readers:
Suddenly it's all-okay to be staring at a lightbox for hours on end? The bad for the eyes has evaporated (true enough, we've got LCD instead of CRT now, but how is LCD less demanding on the eyes, especially on handheld devices, out in the open, with reflections assaulting the screen?). They truly are miraculous machines, aren't they?
Makes me kinda grudgy against all those years people nagged to be careful with me eyes (by me mom, me teachers, Concerned Parents Inc, and the government) when I was watching television and playing computer games for hours on end.
In less brainfarty news: Mega-Evil-Beta Reader, whom you know as "hubby", dearest digiblips, started reading Tiger of Opal. He's making agreeing noises. Asked me about some of the noir stuff I put in, so obviously that's working. So far, at least, but allow me to go Weeeeeeee, even as his angry red pen scratches away at my beautiful baby.
To cover your pain I'll just copy paste three little items from my "something to talk about when it's cucumber time"-file. Cucumber Time equals what you English folks call the Silly Season now, but apparently at some period of time your English tailors also used cucumber time to indicate slow season. Now wondering whether it has something to do with the fact that pickling cucumbers/gherkins is not like, preserving the most nutritious or tasty foodstuffs, so not really working on surviving winter (imagine having to live on pickled gherkins all winter!). It's really not a heroic work either, not like fitting a couple of pumpkins into a jar or making chutney or sumfin.
Anyways, for your pleasure I'll trot out some brainfarts, like news is wont to do in such times, with stories about a Taiwanese dog helping old people crossing the street, or quaint medieval left-over habits of some village you have never heard of even if it's somewhere in your own country...
_________________________________________________
SF/F/H in my mind sounds as Sfaich.
Meatball: Oh you write then? And what sorts of stories you write?
Me: Sfaich
I know, correctly pronounced it should be Esefefaich. But that sounds as if you've got a mental disease. But then, what do you write again?
_________________________________________________
On "blogging community": Half the time I don't even read the crap you spout into cyberspace, digiblips, I just mark that shit read and move on. I can only follow two or maybe three blogs in depth, because there's also real world and news and silly stuff like that out there. And let's be honest, 2 or 3 people does not a community make. The whole format is also wrong, since you can't give and take on the same level. You yell something at the world, and maybe some of the world yells back. Is that valuable communication? Is that relation building?
_________________________________________________
What everybody seems to have forgotten about in light of e-readers:
Suddenly it's all-okay to be staring at a lightbox for hours on end? The bad for the eyes has evaporated (true enough, we've got LCD instead of CRT now, but how is LCD less demanding on the eyes, especially on handheld devices, out in the open, with reflections assaulting the screen?). They truly are miraculous machines, aren't they?
Makes me kinda grudgy against all those years people nagged to be careful with me eyes (by me mom, me teachers, Concerned Parents Inc, and the government) when I was watching television and playing computer games for hours on end.
_________________________________________________
In less brainfarty news: Mega-Evil-Beta Reader, whom you know as "hubby", dearest digiblips, started reading Tiger of Opal. He's making agreeing noises. Asked me about some of the noir stuff I put in, so obviously that's working. So far, at least, but allow me to go Weeeeeeee, even as his angry red pen scratches away at my beautiful baby.
Bloodsuckers
There's nothing so annoying as having to wait for sun- and hubby-up so you can organize the hunt on what surely must be the last of the summer mosquitoes.
Pickled brains
Sort of sucks, since I don't remember drinking that much.
That's bad, innit?
This means I'm going to postpone my non-review till tomorrow. I guess by then I'll have figured out which title to tackle.
Snipping off all of my beautiful grapes that won't be ripening much more in the weakening sun: also for tomorrow. We're talking a whole lot of grapes. And since they'll probably be somewhat sour with all the crap weather of August, it'll mean the official start of preserve season. Together with the giant blackberries from the freezer, and the pumpkins people tend to send my way. Need to clean kitchen first. And lots of pots. And the oven.
Also, I postponed reading Kiernan's Red Tree because a story about a depressed writer all alone in the sticks is not quite working for the current headspace. I'll get back to it when I feel more solid about being depressed. Or solid about being less depressed. Or shtuff, or sumfing.
Some good news during the weekend: the dishwasher was just acting up and not really broken.
I think. Could be my magic touch, though. See, sometimes I just touch broken tech and it works. It runs in the family. But since it's not a constant power, it can be quite infuriating. And, by touching things one doesn't learn as much as actually taking tech apart and putting it together again. Although, I could tell you some funny stories about that too...
The frizzled main computer has been replaced, because you know, I used all my touch&fix mojo on the dishwasher and the old motherboard I'd laying around for emergencies sort of died over the years. Or it's a power problem, and since it would be the third power supply to frizzle I'm quite right to consider the whole box jinxed. All I still need to do is salvage ram and whatever else is still useful for this computer. That's on hold though until my mojo's been replenished.
The prefab from Packard Bell wasn't even as expensive as I thought. It comes with Windows 7, hence I was all set for the required wrestling match with Bill Gates' spawn to get it all configured to *my* preferences. Even that turned out a breeze. Just the regular "I'm not talking to my older brothers" attitude that, let's be honest, anybody dealing with microsoft is well used to. Somewhere this week, when the pickled brain is over and other stuff that needs doing is done, I'll start the the maddening quest for a working peer-network.
Read through the Tiger of Opal draft. I'm a genius. Some spots still need polish, and the end needs some more work, I think. Wondering if some of the cryptic shit isn't too cryptic. Needs beta-reading.
Was also going to say something about devious digital blips, but I forgot what exactly. Sun hurts eyes. Need to soak brain in mixture of hot water and scented salts now.
That's bad, innit?
This means I'm going to postpone my non-review till tomorrow. I guess by then I'll have figured out which title to tackle.
Snipping off all of my beautiful grapes that won't be ripening much more in the weakening sun: also for tomorrow. We're talking a whole lot of grapes. And since they'll probably be somewhat sour with all the crap weather of August, it'll mean the official start of preserve season. Together with the giant blackberries from the freezer, and the pumpkins people tend to send my way. Need to clean kitchen first. And lots of pots. And the oven.
Also, I postponed reading Kiernan's Red Tree because a story about a depressed writer all alone in the sticks is not quite working for the current headspace. I'll get back to it when I feel more solid about being depressed. Or solid about being less depressed. Or shtuff, or sumfing.
Some good news during the weekend: the dishwasher was just acting up and not really broken.
I think. Could be my magic touch, though. See, sometimes I just touch broken tech and it works. It runs in the family. But since it's not a constant power, it can be quite infuriating. And, by touching things one doesn't learn as much as actually taking tech apart and putting it together again. Although, I could tell you some funny stories about that too...
The frizzled main computer has been replaced, because you know, I used all my touch&fix mojo on the dishwasher and the old motherboard I'd laying around for emergencies sort of died over the years. Or it's a power problem, and since it would be the third power supply to frizzle I'm quite right to consider the whole box jinxed. All I still need to do is salvage ram and whatever else is still useful for this computer. That's on hold though until my mojo's been replenished.
The prefab from Packard Bell wasn't even as expensive as I thought. It comes with Windows 7, hence I was all set for the required wrestling match with Bill Gates' spawn to get it all configured to *my* preferences. Even that turned out a breeze. Just the regular "I'm not talking to my older brothers" attitude that, let's be honest, anybody dealing with microsoft is well used to. Somewhere this week, when the pickled brain is over and other stuff that needs doing is done, I'll start the the maddening quest for a working peer-network.
Read through the Tiger of Opal draft. I'm a genius. Some spots still need polish, and the end needs some more work, I think. Wondering if some of the cryptic shit isn't too cryptic. Needs beta-reading.
Was also going to say something about devious digital blips, but I forgot what exactly. Sun hurts eyes. Need to soak brain in mixture of hot water and scented salts now.
Wednesday = Alter Ego Day
So: clickety.
Sun's shining and subsidy stress is under control, so I'll see if I can activate this lazy ass and do some very needed jungle-clearing work in the garden.
Sun's shining and subsidy stress is under control, so I'll see if I can activate this lazy ass and do some very needed jungle-clearing work in the garden.
word up!
I gave my insomnia-induced review of City of Ruin some more thought. Then I thought some more on all the books I've been reading lately. Then I figured I might want to keep track of some of my thoughts on the things I read. That's a whole lot of thinking thunk, my dearest digiblips! Then I thought (even more!) on the way to do this without spending too much time writing full reviews, because that's not Ze Plan.
And so then this happened: Ceci n'est pas une revue. Ze Plan is to have a bit on every title I've bought over the last months, which are listed in ... The List.
Well then, all that thinking has left me short of time. Subsidy deadlines still looming and Belgium is on the verge of destruction. I need to do some real work, hence I leave you with another Loire trip piccie, this time from the castle of Blois.
PS: yes, it is quite possible I'm addicted to creating blogs.
And so then this happened: Ceci n'est pas une revue. Ze Plan is to have a bit on every title I've bought over the last months, which are listed in ... The List.
Well then, all that thinking has left me short of time. Subsidy deadlines still looming and Belgium is on the verge of destruction. I need to do some real work, hence I leave you with another Loire trip piccie, this time from the castle of Blois.
Stonebiter
PS: yes, it is quite possible I'm addicted to creating blogs.
< / weekend trip>
Back from the yearly weekend trip with the inlaws, and in time for the club-management meeting tonight.
I read. I wrote. I splurged all sorts of crazy ideas onto white pages, sadly all for the trilogy that comes after the first trilogy and the hexalogy. How's that for being prepared?
For once I did not take my camera along, seeing as how I'm still wading through French castles and architectural details, and I still have tons of fun pics from previous trips to Ardennes. So I'll leave you with two little snaps of around the village of Herbeumont from a few years back:
I read. I wrote. I splurged all sorts of crazy ideas onto white pages, sadly all for the trilogy that comes after the first trilogy and the hexalogy. How's that for being prepared?
For once I did not take my camera along, seeing as how I'm still wading through French castles and architectural details, and I still have tons of fun pics from previous trips to Ardennes. So I'll leave you with two little snaps of around the village of Herbeumont from a few years back:
Beautiful pine and moss, though we didn't see a lot of that this year
I love the light in those forests...
Dramatic skies, because I like them, and we had quite a bit of that this year. Luckily it was just not too wet or windy to have a couple of nice long walks in the wilderness.
The return of the not so thin white duchess
Here I am, back from France, head still reeling with the impossibly complicated history of Europe, with a gazillion pictures to sort out. History is written by the victor, and then rewritten and rewritten some more. So if you do go to the region, a bit of historical background certainly helps to put things into perspective. It also helps you to avoid sounding like a total idiot; actually overheard in one castle:
"Well, they certainly have a lot of things from Brussels and Flanders here"
"Didn't I read somewhere that the owner of the castle Belgian?"
Ack! We're talking about a period long before Belgium existed, I mean, hello, France wasn't France yet!
But anyways, history is just a big noodle puzzle of facts and you can twist the story any way you want it. Just to give some impression of the noodles: there's this large part in European history where the king of France had the Île-de-France (part of modern day Paris, and mightier persons (Duke of Orléans and Maximilian of Austria) had all the rest. Some of these mightier men also had England, like one of the most beloved kings of England (if the Robin Hood story is to be believed): Richard the Lionheart. But if you look at the facts (king of England from 1189 to 1199, hadn't set foot in England yet by 1194) it's easy to see why he would be beloved: what's better than to have a king who doesn't meddle in local affairs!
It was good fun, informative, thought-provoking, and I had plenty of good ideas even if I didn't do one jot of writing. Ha. And now for some fencing!
"Well, they certainly have a lot of things from Brussels and Flanders here"
"Didn't I read somewhere that the owner of the castle Belgian?"
Ack! We're talking about a period long before Belgium existed, I mean, hello, France wasn't France yet!
But anyways, history is just a big noodle puzzle of facts and you can twist the story any way you want it. Just to give some impression of the noodles: there's this large part in European history where the king of France had the Île-de-France (part of modern day Paris, and mightier persons (Duke of Orléans and Maximilian of Austria) had all the rest. Some of these mightier men also had England, like one of the most beloved kings of England (if the Robin Hood story is to be believed): Richard the Lionheart. But if you look at the facts (king of England from 1189 to 1199, hadn't set foot in England yet by 1194) it's easy to see why he would be beloved: what's better than to have a king who doesn't meddle in local affairs!
It was good fun, informative, thought-provoking, and I had plenty of good ideas even if I didn't do one jot of writing. Ha. And now for some fencing!
A bit of procrastination a day keeps boredom away
Through Anne Allen's blog found some new procrastination, in this website you can enter your text and it tells you whom you write like.
The opening pages of
The opening pages of
- Barynn are written like David Foster Wallace
- Tiger of Opal are written like James Joyce and the second chapter as David Foster Wallace
- Dreams of Cold Stone are written like Dan Brown, the second introductory chapter like Ursula LeGuin and the first chapter of the main story as Lovecraft. But if I enter those chapters all together, it reads like Douglas Adams. Go figure.
- the continuous part I have for a lame cyberpunk novel results to Joyce, as does a chapter of Lumen, and a long scene from Jayce Wolfram comes up with J.D.Salinger. I'm one diverse writer oh yeah behbeh. Or something. And Shtuff.
Sleepless
There's something wrong with the time between Wednesdays and Thursdays.
I wake up insanely early, for weeks now. What is it my sleeping mind is hearing?
Though... I remember years ago when they changed the bus schedule in weekends, effectively scrapping 4 of the earliest stops on Sunday. During the first weeks of the change I kept waking up at 6:20 and 6:50 and 7:20 and 7:50 without a clue.
So my question could just as well be: what am I not hearing around 4 on Thursday morning?
I wake up insanely early, for weeks now. What is it my sleeping mind is hearing?
Though... I remember years ago when they changed the bus schedule in weekends, effectively scrapping 4 of the earliest stops on Sunday. During the first weeks of the change I kept waking up at 6:20 and 6:50 and 7:20 and 7:50 without a clue.
So my question could just as well be: what am I not hearing around 4 on Thursday morning?
über-meh
Sometimes I wish the internet never was invented. Too much like having your favorite bar in house, with your favorite barkeep who knows all your favorite drinks and plays all your favorite music, but nobody talks to you, and you're hanging around the big boys like a fourteen year old not quite realizing the dangers of the game. It's all about the cake and what you want with it.
That said, I'm still out of a job, the sockbooze is still not quite passable as vodka, and hey, it's 2 a.m. on a Sunday*. What better to do than write *another* novel?
* which means it's Monday. this whole a.m./p.m. thing just isn't workable for mainlanders, dude.
That said, I'm still out of a job, the sockbooze is still not quite passable as vodka, and hey, it's 2 a.m. on a Sunday*. What better to do than write *another* novel?
* which means it's Monday. this whole a.m./p.m. thing just isn't workable for mainlanders, dude.
Shtuff
I came back from a busy weekend to find my feeddemon overflowing (135 posts to read? Are you crazy? Don't you people have a life?), so I had to kill some blogs I was following.
Part of the deluge however are the NIN teasers on the How To Destroy Angels project, which sounds like yumyum and more. Can't wait till summer.
On the 1st I met up in Planckendael zoo with ex-colleagues. We had a pick-nick the other visitors were jealous off, caught up with each other's lives, and discussed and laughed about the miserable state of Belgian politics. Since the party was mixed French and Dutch-speaking, hilarious scenes ensued when we started yelling at each other. I was actually pretty glad to see the shocked and horrified reactions of the nameless masses around us, when part of the group was lagging behind and I yelled (in Flemish): "Always the same with those Walloons, always have to wait for them lazy asses!"
The day after I had another tournament. In the elimination I came up against the same woman that whooped my ass during the Championships but this time I kept my cool and managed to use my superior tactics. I conquered her, but then came up to someone who's been in the top 3 for years and years and years. I did my best, but the dying went quickly. I ended up 6th (of 11).
The problem with senior women's saber is that mid-list hurdle: the group is quite small, and the top of the group are those women who have years of experience and youth going for them, and the difference between lower half and upper half is actually quite extreme. But I'll get them, slowly but certainly.
Also, I applied for a job that seems invented just for me, so cross your fingers!
Today I hope to finish some of the document I'm preparing for the club, so I can finally turn my attention to Tiger again and clean that mess up.
Part of the deluge however are the NIN teasers on the How To Destroy Angels project, which sounds like yumyum and more. Can't wait till summer.
On the 1st I met up in Planckendael zoo with ex-colleagues. We had a pick-nick the other visitors were jealous off, caught up with each other's lives, and discussed and laughed about the miserable state of Belgian politics. Since the party was mixed French and Dutch-speaking, hilarious scenes ensued when we started yelling at each other. I was actually pretty glad to see the shocked and horrified reactions of the nameless masses around us, when part of the group was lagging behind and I yelled (in Flemish): "Always the same with those Walloons, always have to wait for them lazy asses!"
The day after I had another tournament. In the elimination I came up against the same woman that whooped my ass during the Championships but this time I kept my cool and managed to use my superior tactics. I conquered her, but then came up to someone who's been in the top 3 for years and years and years. I did my best, but the dying went quickly. I ended up 6th (of 11).
The problem with senior women's saber is that mid-list hurdle: the group is quite small, and the top of the group are those women who have years of experience and youth going for them, and the difference between lower half and upper half is actually quite extreme. But I'll get them, slowly but certainly.
Also, I applied for a job that seems invented just for me, so cross your fingers!
Today I hope to finish some of the document I'm preparing for the club, so I can finally turn my attention to Tiger again and clean that mess up.
The End of the World is near
No really, just walk a bit in that direction and you drop right off!
Nothing much has changed the last few days, still reading too much blogs, novels, tinkering with Shtuff, with some added Necessary Things of Life that needed doing. So, still not doing enough real writing.
Spring is really here, with everything flowering and shooting green sprouts skywards, while the Icelanders are doing their best to completely screw their chances to join the EU.
My main problem this week (except for the not getting myself behind the thing that really needs writing) is that I can't do any gardening* this week because I need to spare the tendons for the upcoming weekend and fencing championship. This makes me sad, because catching up with nature's grow spurt is a bitch.
*gardening in my world consist very much of killing trees, trimming shrubs, and trying to turn loam into something manageable with a shovel: hard work.
Nothing much has changed the last few days, still reading too much blogs, novels, tinkering with Shtuff, with some added Necessary Things of Life that needed doing. So, still not doing enough real writing.
Spring is really here, with everything flowering and shooting green sprouts skywards, while the Icelanders are doing their best to completely screw their chances to join the EU.
My main problem this week (except for the not getting myself behind the thing that really needs writing) is that I can't do any gardening* this week because I need to spare the tendons for the upcoming weekend and fencing championship. This makes me sad, because catching up with nature's grow spurt is a bitch.
*gardening in my world consist very much of killing trees, trimming shrubs, and trying to turn loam into something manageable with a shovel: hard work.
plea to the Easter Bunny
Between studying and working on fencing club related stuff I've had no time whatsoever to:
work in the garden
but hey, it's been crap weather since Friday, a week early according to the historical wisdom of farmers and old witches: "maartse buien en aprilse grillen" is a Flemish saying about the weather of this season, but both statements are translated by my Dutch to English dictionary as "April showers", which is wrong.
Here, in the ancient granary of Europe, the showers come in March ("bui" meaning "shower", while "gril"should be "whim"). Translation should read: "March showers and whimsical April".
March was not so wet this year though, but since Friday April has begun: nice blue skies suddenly interrupted by the appearance of a black cloud and a 10 second shower, which magically disappears while you cuddle under a dry roof, you go outside because the temp's all summery again and then suddenly a gust of wind picks up your garden furniture and drops it at the neighbor's. Weird weather, during which I like to walk outside, but not work in the garden.
do writerly things
Except trying to keep up to speed with some blogs. Cow-watcher doesn't mind though: Sunday it handed a me a page of here's-how-to-fix-the-mess-you-made-of-Barynn2 notes which I scribbled down on the backside of the course I was studying. I really want to look into it, but hey, study and club first.
create order
because order is really needed in this workroom. I've really got to make work of the Barynn Companion because if I can't keep track of whoiswho, how's my reader going to? There's little papers with snippets and remarks for other projects, and piles of books, fiction and non-fiction that simply won't fit into the library. Library needs expanding before I fall and break something.
Dear Mr. Easter Bunny, please bring me this thing called time, because I need it more than chocolate.
work in the garden
but hey, it's been crap weather since Friday, a week early according to the historical wisdom of farmers and old witches: "maartse buien en aprilse grillen" is a Flemish saying about the weather of this season, but both statements are translated by my Dutch to English dictionary as "April showers", which is wrong.
Here, in the ancient granary of Europe, the showers come in March ("bui" meaning "shower", while "gril"should be "whim"). Translation should read: "March showers and whimsical April".
March was not so wet this year though, but since Friday April has begun: nice blue skies suddenly interrupted by the appearance of a black cloud and a 10 second shower, which magically disappears while you cuddle under a dry roof, you go outside because the temp's all summery again and then suddenly a gust of wind picks up your garden furniture and drops it at the neighbor's. Weird weather, during which I like to walk outside, but not work in the garden.
do writerly things
Except trying to keep up to speed with some blogs. Cow-watcher doesn't mind though: Sunday it handed a me a page of here's-how-to-fix-the-mess-you-made-of-Barynn2 notes which I scribbled down on the backside of the course I was studying. I really want to look into it, but hey, study and club first.
create order
because order is really needed in this workroom. I've really got to make work of the Barynn Companion because if I can't keep track of whoiswho, how's my reader going to? There's little papers with snippets and remarks for other projects, and piles of books, fiction and non-fiction that simply won't fit into the library. Library needs expanding before I fall and break something.
Dear Mr. Easter Bunny, please bring me this thing called time, because I need it more than chocolate.
More shtuff
Spring!
The next wave of invaders got in under the radar and were dying because I poisoned their favorite restaurant, so I was going to do the flea thing but lost my nerve for procrastination because of this alienesque image *shudders*
Things to do in Belgium
Another query shot out into digiworld, worked in the garden and finished another current read. One new(er) title left and a handful of resource books, before I'll have to send for more [I started writing some more shit here, but I'm going to keep that for a proper post next]. Furthermore, I have to read a course to brush up my knowledge of social law and all things personnel, and study the first 50 pages by next Thursday. And a ton of preparations that need doing for the fencing club board by next Monday. And also a visit to the dentist (first of a couple I'm guessing), because you can never have enough metal in your mouth. Ever.
The next wave of invaders got in under the radar and were dying because I poisoned their favorite restaurant, so I was going to do the flea thing but lost my nerve for procrastination because of this alienesque image *shudders*
Things to do in Belgium
Another query shot out into digiworld, worked in the garden and finished another current read. One new(er) title left and a handful of resource books, before I'll have to send for more [I started writing some more shit here, but I'm going to keep that for a proper post next]. Furthermore, I have to read a course to brush up my knowledge of social law and all things personnel, and study the first 50 pages by next Thursday. And a ton of preparations that need doing for the fencing club board by next Monday. And also a visit to the dentist (first of a couple I'm guessing), because you can never have enough metal in your mouth. Ever.
Spring, please
Or maybe not.
Weather-wise, we don't have much to complain about in Belgium these weeks, in comparison to the storm damage of last month in France, and the snow surprises in Germany and Spain. It's not even all that cold anymore, and spring is definitely sneaking closer. But with the treacherous cold wind, I keep getting attacked by some snot bug, with which I'm terribly fed up after the last couple of weeks. Especially since when I'm not all snotty because of a bug, I'm getting all snot-nosed because of allergies, even when it's still far too cold for anything to be in bloom.
Only last week I found out exactly why the damned condition is called HAY-fever --the fencing judge course took place on a sports accommodation domain where they also give horse riding courses. And who'd have thunk that hay is involved in the upkeep (or that it's not the manure that is the hardest on the nose).
I was recovering nicely from the damage all the sneezing and snottering had caused (the snot bug's always ready to take advantage), but yesterday I went to a info-session which took place in a small room above an indoor swimming pool. Now, I've been staying away from such places for decades for reasons of dermatographia, but it appears I've managed to develop a fabulous sensitivity to the reek of chlorine. More sneezing and snot followed, and I'm not out of the woods yet.
So bring on the spring, but please be gentle. This year is promising to be horrible on the allergies.
In other news:
- lots of fencing. Competed on Sunday and was pretty impressed with my own legwork. Now if I could actually get a grip on how to make it a good legwork day, I'll be doing okay in the Belgian Championships next month.
- writing, not so much. Gave the inhabitants of the attic a small peekaboo, to remind the cow-watching-and-plotting part of my brain of what elements are important so it can continue its swell job while I concentrate on: reading! I ordered a shitload of new books two weeks ago, of authors old and new but all none I've read before, and I've dug in. What can I say, words need to go in before words can come out.
Weather-wise, we don't have much to complain about in Belgium these weeks, in comparison to the storm damage of last month in France, and the snow surprises in Germany and Spain. It's not even all that cold anymore, and spring is definitely sneaking closer. But with the treacherous cold wind, I keep getting attacked by some snot bug, with which I'm terribly fed up after the last couple of weeks. Especially since when I'm not all snotty because of a bug, I'm getting all snot-nosed because of allergies, even when it's still far too cold for anything to be in bloom.
Only last week I found out exactly why the damned condition is called HAY-fever --the fencing judge course took place on a sports accommodation domain where they also give horse riding courses. And who'd have thunk that hay is involved in the upkeep (or that it's not the manure that is the hardest on the nose).
I was recovering nicely from the damage all the sneezing and snottering had caused (the snot bug's always ready to take advantage), but yesterday I went to a info-session which took place in a small room above an indoor swimming pool. Now, I've been staying away from such places for decades for reasons of dermatographia, but it appears I've managed to develop a fabulous sensitivity to the reek of chlorine. More sneezing and snot followed, and I'm not out of the woods yet.
So bring on the spring, but please be gentle. This year is promising to be horrible on the allergies.
In other news:
- lots of fencing. Competed on Sunday and was pretty impressed with my own legwork. Now if I could actually get a grip on how to make it a good legwork day, I'll be doing okay in the Belgian Championships next month.
- writing, not so much. Gave the inhabitants of the attic a small peekaboo, to remind the cow-watching-and-plotting part of my brain of what elements are important so it can continue its swell job while I concentrate on: reading! I ordered a shitload of new books two weeks ago, of authors old and new but all none I've read before, and I've dug in. What can I say, words need to go in before words can come out.
