Rain, Freezing Rain, and Ice

That's been the weather since Thursday night. No sun, temps at the freezing mark, and every form of miserable precipitation no one would want on a four-day weekend of travel.

I have nothing to complain about. I was home from Thanksgiving dinner (with leftovers for the weekend) before the rain started, and haven't had to leave the house until this morning. I've watched the ice build up, and I've chipped it away under a gloomy sky. I'm fully stocked on vitamin D - the Sunshine Vitamin - and I'm taking it like my sanity depends on it. Which it does.

Everyone else I know and love weren't so lucky. Big Brother works holidays. Elder Brother and WGR were out and about for church. Mom and Second Dad needed a doctor visit and antibiotics during the worst of it.

I hate inclement weather. Tornadoes are my particular demon, but icy roads are a close second. I sing the same song everyone does. "I know how to drive; it's the other idiots who are the problem." Yeah, well, we're all idiots when it comes to ice on the roads. I'm grateful my commute is only 14 blocks.

I'm less grateful Solar Roadways don't exist yet.

I heard a rumor the rain ends today, and the sun comes out tomorrow. I'll believe it when I see it. At least it's above freezing.

Push button. Receive bacon.

Thanksgiving

I'm in one of those "every silver lining has a cloud" moods, but a true princess is a princess of herself regardless of her mood, and gratitude shouldn't be mood-dependent anyway.

I'm thankful that these moods pass.

I'm thankful I have a job I generally like, working with people I generally like, doing what I'm generally good at. I'm thankful I can come home at lunch to let Sweetie out and feed the cats, and that I've never had to learn that utility bills come in different colors. I'm thankful my van runs, and that Second Dad fixed the lift gate.

I'm thankful for nature. Trees, birds, insects, worms, clouds - the whole package. I'm thankful for The Swamp, even if it hates me. I'm thankful I finally figured out I like working in a garden.

I'm thankful for my family. Brothers I respect and love, sisters-in-law I like, nieces and a nephew who don't suck. Cousins who turned out really well, and all the rest. A Second Dad who does a great job with a Fourth Daughter. I'm glad we know each other. I'm thankful for Mom, but that should be obvious.

I'm thankful for God. Even when I'm so mad at Him I could spit, I can't imagine what my life would be like without Him, and I don't want to.

I'm thankful for my friends. We may not spend as much time together as we used to, or would like to, but you are all in my thoughts and prayers more often than you might think.

I'm thankful for Kerby Anderson, and Joe Christiano, and Gary Young, and Miranda Esmonde-White. They've all brought good into my life.

I'm thankful I have no human children.

I'm thankful for the books I have written. They're good, and I'm proud of them.

I'm thankful I gave up Farmville on my own.

I'm thankful I've never had to face a problem alone.

This isn't helping the mood as much as I would like, but I'm glad I did it. By tomorrow, this mood will have passed, but my thankfulness goes on.

Happy Thanksgiving, dear readers. May all your dinners be exactly what you wanted, not what you expected.

Almost forgot. I'm thankful for The Librarians, which has become the TV equivalent of a bowl of fruit-shaped Trix for me. It just makes me happy.

Holy Spirit

We don't talk about Him much. He sort of gets slapped on at the end of a blessing, or honorable mention at the deity awards. Most Christian fantasy authors leave Him out altogether (kudos to Lioness for remembering Him in her Trinity). 

Who is this guy? Is He the third wheel of the Godhead? There's God the Father, Jesus the Son, and Holy Spirit the Uncle No One Talks About.

As far as I can tell, He's actually kind of important. From www.biblegateway.com:

John 16:6-14New American Standard Bible (NASB)6 But because I have said these things to you, sorrow has filled your heart.7 But I tell you the truth, it is to your advantage that I go away; for if I do not go away, the [a]Helper will not come to you; but if I go, I will send Him to you.8 And He, when He comes, will convict the world concerning sin and righteousness and judgment; 9 concerning sin, because they do not believe in Me; 10 and concerning righteousness, because I go to the Father and you no longer see Me; 11 and concerning judgment, because the ruler of this world has been judged.12 “I have many more things to say to you, but you cannot bear them now.13 But when He, the Spirit of truth, comes, He will guide you into all the truth; for He will not speak on His own initiative, but whatever He hears, He will speak; and He will disclose to you what is to come. 14 He will glorify Me, for He will take of Mine and will disclose it to you. 

I understand that to mean the Holy Spirit is who allows a Christian to know truth as God sees it.

When I accepted Christ as my Lord and Savior, something supernatural happened. The Holy Spirit literally possessed me.

This is where non-believers and even a lot of Christians will roll their eyes, shuffle their feet, and either decry me as a kook and a holy-roller or try to change the topic. Sorry, guys, some things have to be said.

I'm not saying I had convulsions or spoke in Tongues or let poisonous snakes bite me. I am saying something more happened than me just making a decision and choosing to act on it the rest of my life, although that happened, too.

When I accepted Christ, I accepted the whole package. That includes God as my Father, Jesus as my Master, Savior, Redeemer, brother (this list goes on a while, so I'll stop there), and the Holy Spirit as my personal God-interpreter. The Holy Spirit sits inside me and whispers stuff, 'cause He's not a shouter. When a nasty thought comes into my mind, the Spirit nudges me. When I behave badly, the Spirit points it out (and I've found "badly" changes meaning the longer I'm in this marriage).

This interpretation works the other way, too.

Romans 8:26-27New American Standard Bible (NASB)26 In the same way the Spirit also helps our weakness; for we do not know how to pray as we should, but the Spirit Himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words; 27 and He who searches the hearts knows what the mind of the Spirit is, because He intercedes for the [a]saints according to the will of God. 

The Spirit talks to God for us, filtering our childish ramblings into something God can understand.

I have more to say, but there's stuffing to be made this morning.

Keep the faith.

Red Pumpkin Chili

Most of the ingredients are orange, but the beets turn everything red, so I went with easy nomenclature. All amounts are approximate, 'cause I never measure anything.

2-3 cups beets, chopped
2-3 cups carrots, chopped
1 cup chicken broth (I used homemade bone broth but this could be left out)
1 can pure pumpkin
1 can pinto beans, drained and rinsed
enough water to cover the vegetables
salt to taste - I start with 1/4 teaspoon and add as it cooks because I over-salted once. Never again.
2 cloves of garlic, minced - jar or fresh. Could go more on this if you like garlic.
2 tablespoons chili seasoning
1 tablespoon wing sauce (that's what the label says. I'm thinking "buffalo wing sauce"?)
Optional:
1 drop oregano oil
1 drop thyme oil
Shredded or diced chicken

The beets and carrots take a while to cook, so next time I'll use a crockpot for 4 hours instead of my NuWave at 180 for 3 hours. It will be thick and a little blurpy when it's done, and the carrots and beets should be tender with no crunch.

The beets and carrots are also very sweet, so the chili powder and wing sauce are for balance. Thinking it still needs a bit more on the savory side, so maybe up the ratio on those ingredients. Or find something else to add and let me know.

The diced chicken is a nice touch if you have it, which I did since I just made bone broth, but it would eat fine as a vegetarian dish. Use as a main dish, or as a side dish to something of a more savory nature. Yes, you could add cheese. Something sour, like Parmesan.

Makes 4-6 servings, depending on how much you like it.

The bone broth doesn't add anything tastewise to the chili, but 'tis the season I step up my bone broth intake (for immune boosting), so I tend to put it in everything short of my Lucky Charms.

Enjoy.

Breaking Legs and Burning Cars

Focus on the Family aired a chapel service given by Jay Carty last Friday, and again this morning. It was the same program, so I don't know if it was a mistake or a God-reminder, 'cause I wanted to blog about it at the time.

Carty's talk was about how nice people will go to Hell, and how we who call ourselves Christians are more concerned with people's lives than their souls. I can't find a link for it, but if you want to listen, I'm sure it's on the Focus website somewhere.

He illustrated his "life vs. soul" thesis with the idea that we will inflict multiple cuts and a broken leg to get a trapped person out of a burning car because those injuries are nothing compared to being burned alive, but we won't go out of our way to save a soul on its way to Hell.

I hear you, Jay, but I have to point out that it's far easier to pull a body out of a car than to stop a sinner intent on continuing in sin. In fact, it's not possible for me to stop another human from going to Hell, no matter how many legs I break.

I should pause and say that "sin" has been defined in a lot of ways. When I use it, I mean any action or thought that falls short of the absolute holiness of God and results in me being separated from Him for eternity. That pretty much covers being alive and conscious. I'm not holy, and I can't attain holiness on my own, and that's why the Jesus part of God came as a human, managed not to sin (still don't know how He pulled that off), and died in my place. The whole New Testament is about how and why that worked, so I won't go into it right now.

Even though Jesus did all this, I have to accept it for it to work. I have to accept that 1) I'm not acceptable to God on my own, 2) Jesus wants to be in relationship with me, 3) Jesus' sacrifice was enough to heal our relationship, and 4) I will spend the rest of my life becoming better friends with Him and God.

I can't make those choices for another person, which is why we have the phrase "God has no grandchildren." He's either your dad or your judge.

I have the responsibility to tell people about Jesus, to live the best life I can in His name, and to pray for people's hearts to change, but ultimately, it's up to them. The hardest part of being a Christian for me is knowing that people are trapped in Hell-bound cars and won't let me help them get out, because they can't see the danger.

Push button. Receive bacon.

Angry Moods

Do you ever wake up angry? I can't be the only person that suffers from this.

Sometimes, I wake up yelling. The smallest things set me off. The "FEED ME!" yowls I hear every morning are intolerable on these mornings. The scrabble "to eat everyone else's food and ignore my own" is too much, even though it happens every day. The "I want to sit in your lap and I will fight with anyone who is already there" cannot be born.

And I run around screaming like a banshee, and cursing them and everything else as Spawn of Satan determined to destroy me. Of course, they ignore me, because they're spawn of Satan and determined to destroy me.

On these days, my tea turns out wrong, my clothes don't fit, and more often than not, some part of me hurts like a big dog in a wheelbarrow. But I have days where all of that is true and I manage with grace and patience and silence.

Is this static buildup of tiny evils that explodes into big evil? Is it too much TV, or computer time rotting my brain and destroying my self-control? Maybe. Maybe this is why I need to stop playing computer games, even solitaire. Or, maybe, like Bad Hair Days, this is the inevitable cost of living in a fallen world. Some days are just bad days.

I pray. I eat chocolate. I close my mouth so hard it hurts, but for the most part, the mood has to dissipate on its own, like hiccups, usually hours later. The only thing I can control is the screaming, so I try to control that, with varying degrees of success. I suppose I should be grateful I'm only screaming at cats and the dog (who really never deserves to be yelled at, she's such a good girl) instead of humans who will hold it against me, but I actually feel more guilty. It's not like they can help who they are, and I'm the pinhead who chose to live this way. It's not their fault I can't take it some days.

I don't have a trick to help, or advice to give. I'm not even looking for advice. It's just one of those mornings, so I decided to write about it.

Hope your day starts well and keeps going.

Push button; receive bacon.

Money Musings III

This year has seen a noticeable uptick in my pain levels. I think it was two Augusts ago that my neck pain reached proportions that made me willing to try physical therapy. Expensive physical therapy. That did nothing to alleviate the pain. I was told I am too rigid and should learn to relax (my paraphrase of more tactful, technical jargon).

Thanks. I'll get right on that after I pay you out of pocket.

I learned at my last splint check I have worn that mouthpiece for six years - the first four relatively pain free, the last two, not so much. I was warned I might get another one to two years more years of wear until I need to shell out $650 for another one, coincidentally about the same amount I paid for the non-helpful therapy.

Well, that crown I am one week away from getting and paying for? Is on an upper tooth, and my mouthpiece conforms to my upper teeth. Meaning, my mouthpiece doesn't fit anymore, and I haven't worn it in 13 days. My "one to two more years of wear" just vanished. I'm going to call and ask if there's a chance this mouthpiece can be salvaged, but I'm guessing the answer will be "no." I could be wrong.

I am surprised I haven't yet awakened in the night from the pain of biting too hard on my temporary crown. Maybe my back pain is preventing me from sleeping that deeply. However, as the days creep by, my left jaw and neck pain are increasing. Is this because I'm wearing a temporary crown, because I'm not wearing my mouthpiece, or because I'm stressed out with all the money my body is costing me? I don't know. The jaw pain has always been on the left. Maybe it's from carrying my purse.

I do know my mouthpiece seemed to decrease in efficacy the longer I wore it, and the cost to tweak it increases every two years. I know I have more fillings in my upper teeth that may need crowns in the next six years, or even more expensive root canals. and it will only take one to make my equally expensive mouthpiece utterly useless.

So, do I buy a new mouthpiece for $650, and hope for the best, even though I'm not sure it will work anymore? Or do I go without and let my teeth just grind against each other until none of them are left?

Because "relaxing" isn't going to happen. Turtles are rigid, from base of neck to base of tail, and that ain't never going to change. Coincidentally, that's exactly where the pain originates. Lot of coincidences in this story.

Push button. Receive bacon.

Money Musings II, or Why I Should Get Rid of Cable TV

To paraphrase those famous words from Airplane!, looks like I picked the wrong week to quit Farmville.

Not really, but last night was the first night this week I didn't have something to do as soon as I came home. This will be the case for most of Winter. I have no Swamp to play in physically, and my brain is tired after eight hours at work. The TV goes on, and the desire to start mindlessly clicking emerges. I played solitaire for an hour before I made myself stop, turn off the TV, and read.

I have watched too much TV my entire adult life. I picked up the habit of having it on in the background from mom, who has tinnitus and uses the noise to distract herself. I don't have tinnitus, and I'm opposed to noise in general, so it makes no real sense for me to do it. I'm increasingly annoyed by the change in volume from show to commercial.

I finally bought cable when the government forced everyone into digital TV. I can't get digital reception on an antenna in a storm, and as a lilapsophobic (yes, I finally looked up the official term for fear of tornadoes), I have to have access to weather information. This incredibly stressful weather year has seen most weather information move online, so I am seriously considering doing away with cable TV altogether. That would save me a bit of money every month that I could use to replenish my emergency fund, remove one of the Farmville triggers, and remove one of the impediments to writing. Should cable prices go up again this year, and I can't imagine they won't, I will say goodbye to TV.

I hope the more I say that to myself, the more likely I am to follow through.

Since I have found a morning routine that, for the most part, fills my time with non-Farmville activities, I am sure I can find some evening routines for Winter. At the very least, I can add a second Classical Stretch program.

Push button. Receive bacon.

Money Musings

Two weeks ago, my dentist said that magic word "crown." This will be crown #2. I have slightly better dental insurance than I did for crown #1, but the bottom line is a large sum of money will be leaving me in a bit more than a week, and it was money I didn't plan to spend.

That's what emergency funds are for, Dave Ramsey would say, and I agree with him. That's why I have one. I even use it for actual emergencies - things I couldn't have known about and planned for - like a filling giving out and requiring a crown to replace it.

OK, I suppose I could have anticipated that someday I would need another crown, but, come on. Do I really need one more thing to over-control in my OCD life?

Anyway, money keeps coming out of my emergency fund, and it is very hard to put back. I have made a concerted effort this year to put money in, and I've done fairly well, but Murphy keeps showing up - in alien van invasions and crowns and sewer stack replacements. It's tiresome.

Does anyone else have trouble reconciling the Proverbial ant vs. grasshopper with Jesus' "do not worry about what you will eat or what you will wear?" I mean, Old Testament teaching is "plan for the future." New Testament teaching is "God will take care of you." No offense, Jesus, but you were a bum. You had no job, no house, no dependents, and you lived off the generosity of various women, like Joanna and Martha and Mary. Yes, all Your needs were met, but I don't want to be a bum.

I guess that would make me one of the various women.

Just a few thoughts as I balance my checkbook.

Push button. Receive bacon.

Homeostasis

Of course, once I decide to avoid Facebook for a while, I start thinking up catchy one-liners to post. Homeostasis is a powerful force. One to five hours a day mindlessly clicking on things is a lot of training to undo. That's just weekdays. Yes, I have a problem. I'm working on it. And, no, I haven't posted anything. I don't think...

I'll apply the 80/20 rule: do beneficial things 80% of the time, and save the 20% for messing up. As far as I can tell, I'm not jonesing for Farmville. It's more "what can I do with all this free time that doesn't involve thinking?"

And that's the point. I've been training myself not to think in my "off" hours. It is far easier after eight hours of applying energy to other people's agendas to play a game. But I am convinced life isn't supposed to be easy. Not under the Curse.

Walking with Jesus is hard. It demands that I go against every natural instinct in my selfish self and follow the Holy Spirit's guidance into love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, gentleness, goodness, and self-control. -I'm missing one... Faithfulness. That's embarrassing.- Those fruits don't come naturally to the Turtle, although I'm pretty good at kindness, and I used to rock patience to sleep at night. For a disciple, ALL the fruits are required, and all of them should be practiced daily.

Baby chicks have to break out of their shells, or they're not strong enough to survive once they're out. Butterflies have to struggle out of cocoons to pump juice into their wings or the wings never work. Bones and muscles have to be used and pushed to remain strong, as Miranda Esmonde-White, 64!, reminded me this morning. Life is struggle.

There were times when my catchy one-liners could have been blog posts, but it was too hard to come up with a title, and extra words. Resuming blogging is one way I'm pushing back against Facebook/ Farmville-playing homeostasis. While I do love my one-liners, that's not the kind of books I used to write. And if I'm ever going to write another one, I have to wake up my brain.

Push button. Receive bacon.

Facebook Hiatus

I'm on Facebook for two reasons: Farmville, and funny posts. I prefer playing Farmville with Friends, and many of my Friends are funny, so I consider this social.

However, in the past few months, I've noticed some changes in Facebook.

One, my Friends don't really play Farmville anymore, and I can't find the feeds of the ones that do. That means I can't play with my Friends. It must be a problem for other people, because Farmville started this "make Neighbors who aren't Friends" thing earlier this year, but that has all kinds of bugs with it and basically doesn't work.

Two, I'm not finding funny posts anymore. I'm finding rants, and articles about social issues, and inappropriate video shares, and outrage over everything from animal abuse to red cups, but nothing funny. I don't watch communist TV (some people call it Mainstream News) because I don't agree with the communist worldview, and I don't want it spouted in my living room until Big Brother truly does own everything. I also don't want it plastered on my Wall. But that's what I'm getting, no matter how many Cats Sleeping in Awkward Positions pics I "like." I used to scroll past them, but I can't seem to get "past" anymore. They just keep going, like a red Energizer bunny, without a single Farmville post to break the monotony.

Every day. No Farmville. No funny. Just communism. Or socialism, which is communist-lite. Or social justice, which is a lie of Satan - that's it's possible to undo the Curse through government intervention. Only Jesus can do that, and He doesn't do it with Other People's Money. He does it through you, His slave, doing His will, one person at a time.

I'm entering my Dark Time, aka Winter. I don't need to be angered or grieved every time I get on my computer. I don't need it, and it's what I'm getting.

You might see me occasionally, testing the waters, but I don't plan to be on that much. I'm going to spend a little time reprogramming my brain manually. My love to you all.

Applaud the jellyfish.

Classical Stretch Continues

If my math is right - and let's face it, that's a 50/20 chance - this is my seventh week of working out with Miranda every workday and most weekends. I've even had a couple days when I wasn't going to get up but I did anyway because I didn't want to risk breaking the habit.

With the change in weather, morning workouts are getting a bit chilly. Also, I prefer "lengthening" workouts to "strengthening" first thing, so I bought season 10 on DVD. Now I control the vertical and the horizontal, and am not confined to whatever PBS is airing.

After 7 weeks, I am noticing a change. My limbs - including my toes, of all things - are skinnier. My potbelly is shrinking. Charlie horse and foot spasm incidents are way down. My shoulder-rounding is reversing, which has been the best benefit so far. I still have back pain attacks, two of them more severe than I've ever had, and I haven't yet found the magic formula for complete neck pain relief, but overall, I'm more fit and flexible than I have been in years. Every week, I keep up with Miranda a little better than the week before. She remains upbeat and non-judgmental.

In short, I'm glad I found her, and I'm glad I'm sticking with her.

Applaud the jellyfish.

Classical Stretch

I'm turning 44 this month. In my family, that means I have more than half my life ahead of me, barring accident or apocalypse. This is the first year I've started wishing that isn't true.

I may have had aches before, but this is the year I've noticed. I went to physical therapy for the first time for neck pain (didn't help). I've been using oils, back and body aspirin, NSAIDs (not all at the same time), and glucosamine chondroitin. Hasn't helped. I wake up in the middle of the night with back pain, if I'm lucky, because not waking up then means I wake up with worse pain when the alarm goes off.

Many of my Friends suffer chronic pain. I'm not saying I hurt like they hurt, but I don't like hurting at all, so a 3 - 4 on the pain scale is way more than I want to experience in a normal day. Especially when I haven't done anything to deserve it aside from folding laundry (the latest cause of my latest back spasm).

Working in The Swamp helps, but that is a one to two season activity at most in Kansas. Winter and Summer just don't lend themselves to Swamp activities on a daily basis. I used to do yoga, and I've considered Tai Chi, but I have reservations about meditation practices of false religions, even if they might help my back. The mind leads the body, but the body leads the mind, too. Paul the apostle's words in Romans about eating meat sacrificed to idols being meaningless when you give it no meaning is one thing, yet I notice that was one of only two practices forbidden by the early Church for both Jewish and Greek converts. Is my faith really greater than Peter's?

Shuffling around the house about a month ago, lamenting the state of my back yet again, I accidentally turned on PBS (a channel I strenuously avoid nowadays). I caught the tail end of a Miranda Esmonde-White Classical Stretch routine. Zero impact cardio - fabulous for my rickety knees and traitorous hips. Lots of stretching - like yoga without the religion. She emphasizes relaxation, something I've had several highly paid professionals confirm is an issue of mine.

I found two reasonably priced used DVDs for core strengthening and back pain relief on Amazon, and set my alarm for 4:45 so I could be up and ready when her PBS program comes on at 5 AM. I've been working out with her for 7 mornings now, and twice this weekend when the DVDs arrived, and it has helped. My posture is better, the pain is less when I wake up, and I feel more relaxed.

Once again, I run the risk of being the alcoholic who knows everything after one meeting (or, in this case, 7), but this may the exercise habit I've been looking for. I'll let you know in a few months.

Applaud the jellyfish.

Fear As Sin

"Fear is a sin." I've heard this a number of times. Jesus tells us not to fear, the Bible tells us 365 times not to fear; therefore being afraid is a sin. I read it in an article yesterday. I'm thinking I've heard it from some big name evangelists I otherwise tend to agree with.

I've thought about it a lot. I was dangerously close to developing a medication-requiring storm phobia a few years ago, so I had to think about it. If fear is a sin, and any hint of severe weather sent me into freak out mode, was I adding insult to injury?  How could I ask God for help with my fear if I was sinning against Him by feeling fear in the first place?

Fear is an emotion. Emotions, by definition, are out of our conscious control. They are physical reactions to circumstances. Fear involves a perception of danger followed by an adrenaline rush. Depending on the severity of perception and the duration of adrenal stimulation, "simple" fear can become panic attacks or PTSD. Are those sins? Should I feel guilty every time a tornado warning siren blares and frightens me?

I agree that I know I have no reason to fear. God is bigger than any problem I will ever face. However, I have this earth suit that responds to perceived threats with adrenaline, shortness of breath, increased heart rate. I will experience fear at some point, just as I experience anger, grief, and happiness. I believe the sin part comes with the action that follows the emotion.

I cannot stop an adrenaline surge. I can choose what to do with it. I can choose to take the 10 seconds to breathe deeply, to pray and give my fear to God. I can focus on the cause of my fear or the cause of my salvation. That's where the risk of sin lies: in the action.

"Worry" is another issue. I agree that worrying is a sin, because worrying is a controllable action. I choose to worry when I dwell on what frightens me instead of who delivers me. I am a champion worrier, but I am retraining my brain to focus on God instead of worry. I thank Him instead for all the ways He cares for me. Sometimes I have to start very small and silly to grease the wheels of gratitude, but that's OK. I'm learning, and the psalms tell me God not only knows my every thought, He's OK with me telling Him about them.

Fear feeds itself. The more I fear being afraid, the more afraid I become. "Fear is the mind-killer." Better to face my fear, let it wash over and past me, and know that I remain securely inside God's plan. Fear grows less, and love grows more.

Sin or not, God is the only remedy. Turn to Him.

Keep the faith.

Doing Nothing on Vacation

I took vacation time this week. As far as I can remember, this is the first time I've taken a whole week at once. I got a few surprised looks from coworkers when I announced my intentions. Normally, I take a Friday or a Thursday-Friday if the weather is supposed to be especially nice. Why so short? 1) I like working, and 2) too much time off leaves too much time for someone else to mess up my job while I'm gone.

Mom suggested a week would let us goof off like we did when I was in college. But Mom wasn't taking her plantar faciatis into account, and she's been laid up and sleeping while her foot heals. That's cool. I'm self-entertaining. But I can't lie down for more than a few hours at a time anymore without my back screaming bloody murder (as the last two nights attest), so that option is out for me.

I don't have the money to do all the things I could be doing this week, like replacing window sills, replenishing my delicates drawer, or purchasing shoe inserts to help with growing hip/ knee pain, so I have to prioritize.

I have The Swamp to keep me busy, but that only works for so long (because it's hard, exhausting physical labor) and depends on the weather. Yesterday's weather turned out to be rather mild considering the hype, so I'll be out there soon. Days are shortening as I type, and I don't have the lights to work in the dark.

I have a van to fix, too. Can't find a service shop willing to help, so I've turned to Google once again. I finally have a day that won't roast me like a dog in the backseat while I work on the trunk latch. Haven't been able to open the back in two months, and what good is a minivan with a back gate that won't open? Of course, the obvious answer is a minivan with a back gate that won't stay closed, which is another reason I haven't tried to fix it myself. Ah, well. Nothing ventured...

I have a vent fan in the bathroom that likely needs a screw installed at the outside exhaust end, but that requires not only a cool day but a willingness to remove everything from my closet, climb into the attic with or without a multi-cat escort, and wade through blown insulation over ceiling joists to install that one screw. If only I'd done it the first time I was up there. One of my big life regrets.

The sun is finally cresting. That cold front brought 50 degree temps, so today the mosquitoes will have to work around layers for their blood. They're Swamp mosquitoes. I'm sure they're up for the challenge.

I find I'm looking forward to returning to work. This doing nothing on vacation is just too hard for a Turtle.

Still Not a Feminist

I've refused to identify as a feminist, even when Mark Ruffalo called me names.

A Friend posted an article about a normal (as in not overly political or activist-ish) dad who reared feminist daughters by encouraging them to follow their dreams, ignore stereotypes and be independent. OK. That could be my dad. Maybe by that definition, I'm a feminist.

Another Friend on another post pointed out that there are more flavors of feminism than we see on the news (most of which I call "femiNazis" because that's the kind of bias I have) and posted a quiz/survey she endorsed as helping fill out those flavors. I respect this Friend, so I clicked on the quiz just to see what kind of feminist I might be. And lost interest within seconds.

The last question I remember was along the lines of are animals rights a feminist issue. *insert blank stare* Animal rights? Some people think that female animals are more oppressed/abused/neglected than male animals? Or do they mean women do/should care more about animal rights than men? I don't remember the other questions, but they were equally ridiculous to me, and I returned to Farmville.

Which leads to my conclusion that I simply have no lens in my worldview arsenal that highlights "women's issues." I don't look at any given scenario and think "that woman is being oppressed." I do often think "wow, she made some bad choices," or "that is an abusive situation," but that's as far as my feminism goes. I don't believe woman are oppressed more because they're women. I believe everyone has it bad because of sin. Women may experience the consequences differently than men, but I don't find that offensive.

I do find it offensive when "women" are lumped in with "diversity," as in a business is required to have a "diverse" workforce with "minorities," including "women." I'm not able to land and maintain a job on my own merits? I'm hired as a concession to social engineering?

Maybe that's my blind spot regarding feminism. Maybe I couldn't possibly have gotten a job before the whole "equal rights" thing because a man wouldn't give it to me. Seems reality changed that perspective in World War I (or II, I really can't remember when the Rosie the Riveter era happened - probably because I'm not a feminist), making necessity the mother of equal rights, not feminism.

Frankly, I'm tired of the subject. Unless some new evidence comes to light, I consider this matter closed. I am not a feminist. Bully to those who are. Glad you've found your cause.

Applaud the jellyfish.

Finish What You Start

I'm sure I've said this before, but experience is teaching me how true it is.

Finish what you start writing.

It doesn't matter if it's a lousy first draft with terrible characterization and a sappy ending. What's important is that it's equally lousy throughout.

If you don't finish, then you get a hunchback of Notre Dame kind of monster where parts are extremely overworked and polished, and parts are spindly and lousy, and parts are just missing, and who wants to attach garbage to fine jewelry? It's paralyzing.

Nope. Better to puke the whole mess out at the start and work on cleanup later when you can stand to look at it again.

That's not really the best analogy, since most people don't make sculpture out of vomit, but it's the best I can do this morning.

Finish what you start.

Launching

A tiny garden spider took up residence in my bathroom several weeks ago. No idea where she came from. One morning, she was there in the corner, sitting in her invisible web. It was cold outside, and she had caught two ants, so I let her be.

She later caught another spider. She was earning her keep, and staying close to her web, so I let her be.

In the last week or so, she has caught nothing. The ants aren't coming inside anymore. I worried about her. A spider has to eat to live and spin webs. The longer she went without food, the less likely she became to be able to do anything about it. I should move her outside.

But she's a house spider. She doesn't know The Big World. She isn't prepared for temperature extremes or thunderstorms or birds or bigger spiders.

What spider is prepared? Spiders know only what God programmed them to know: survival. They do what they can because it's all they have.

This morning, I caught her (very carefully, because a spider can get trapped in her own web) and took her out to the compost pile, where I hope ants are plentiful enough even for a starving arachnid, and there is some shelter from rain until she gets established. I hope she does well. I hope she grows and meets a mate and has a sack full of baby spiders. I have no way of knowing, but I choose to hope, even though my heart says I waited too long and her best hope is to be eaten quickly.

I wish I didn't care so much about spiders and wasps and flies and earthworms and crows and - well, you get the idea. I wish I didn't believe from my heart that all life comes from God and is therefore precious and deserving of respect and kindness. I wish I was OK with nature's cruelty, and didn't believe it is only a result of The Curse that Adam and Eve and every human since brought down on creation.

If wishes were fishes, we'd all eat steak.

God's blessing, little spider. By His grace, we'll meet again, and you can tell me your adventures in The Big World.

I Am Not a Feminist

With the release of Daughter of Anasca, this suddenly seems important to say. DoA has many capable female characters, so it's tempting to think I'm all about woman power.

I'm not. I'm about people power.

I don't think woman are oppressed any more than anybody else. I don't think we need special laws, or special interests, or special salaries, or whatever. I think every person is responsible for himself (yes, I even still use the masculine as a generic pronoun because that's how English works). I hate things like that test - whatever it's called, starts with "B" - that women dreamed up to quantify how much time women spend talking to each other about "not men" in movies. Every time I see a reference to that sort of nonsense, I want to put on an extra bra in protest. Stop telling me I'm oppressed. I'm not.

If I'm anything, I'm a female male chauvinist, because I do believe whenever possible, men should be "in charge." I find it sad that we live in a culture that thrives on emasculating men. This is a worldview issue for me, created not only by my family of origin, but my training and education. I wish more men would step up and stop letting the women do all the work.  

I didn't write DoA as a book about oppressed women overcoming society's unfairness, although I understand if some readers take that away. I wrote about two girls and two boys growing up. I put Cahnar and Spidraax in there because boys grow up, too, and they also have trouble doing it. 

That's all I have to say about that. Today, anyway. Breakfast is calling.

Applaud the jellyfish.

Procrastination or Inspiration?

With the release of Daughter of Anasca and my current Farmville fast, I have no excuse not to be writing. My official WIP is Dangling Justice, the prequel to Star of Justice.

However, I just read a not-good book by a best-selling author about psychics in New Orleans, and it left me with a strong urge to write something better. I haven't felt an urge like this since college, when I listened to secular music and got writing ideas all day long.

TT: I've tried listening to secular music nowadays, but the stuff is so coarse and inappropriate, I don't want to write any stories it might inspire. 

The prequel to Dangling Justice, and the story that really started it all, is Past Ties. This idea also sparked 20 years ago, like Daughter of Anasca, and could be considered the first story I ever "finished." It was about 50K words and ended on a cliff-hanger, but I'd never written anything that long before with a continuous timeline.

Past Ties is more sci fi than fantasy, set in future Kansas and involving time travel, psychics and cyborgs, inspired by Arnold Schwartzenegger's Total Recall, Jon Larroquette's Second Sight, and a campy B movie called Jack's Back starring James Spader as identical twins (that remains unavailable on DVD, even though I check Amazon every year). Originally it was set on Mars and Earth. I ultimately scrapped it because a) it was melodramatic crap that served mostly to boost my word count to the magic one million, and b) because I didn't want to do the loads of research necessary for all that egghead stuff.



Anyway, I've realized a couple things. One, I write space opera, not sci fi. I don't claim to prognosticate the future or even accurately describe current scientific possibilities. All I want to do is suggest that certain things might be possible, and hopefully not be too wrong. Two, and I give credit to Kessie Carroll's guest post on NAF for this, I don't have to write a brick to tell this story. It might make a fine novella. I did have plans to write two other books to complete the story, so three novellas might first be ebooks and eventually, a combined print novel.

Finally, and most importantly, Past Ties makes Dangling Justice make sense. It introduces the main characters in their own element and explains why they end up causing so much trouble in Ah'rahk in the first place.

So, there's a good chance Past Ties will appear as an offering to the reading public. It may be the death blow to any future non-fantasy writing attempts on my part, but it might not. I do know a few die hard geeks I suspect would be happy to provide some balance on the science. Or mock the compost out of it. 


I'm transferring the file to Scrivener. I'm determined to let go immediately of every 20 year old word that doesn't fit in my new idea of what this story could be. I will accept the challenge. I will Spock my own fiver.

Applaud the jellyfish.