If you don't give me the approved volunteer list for the school that is going on the science field day I've been working on for months and put aside my writing for and made my unpaid full time job that we're supposed to be going on in exactly one week; I will give you THIS!!!!
Now get your friggin' deal together. I don't need this stress!!!!!!!!
Actually I'm clinging to the edge right now, and boy do I wish I'd done more upper body toning. (Old Skool readers of TiC know what my real motivations are for exercise.)
The environmental field day preparations are kicking my committee's ass. And since I'm a committee of one I think you can figure out the math. I haven't done any writing this entire month. I've put in at least 100 hours on this project so far. I gotta get some balance back. Right now it's shot!
I did have a nice mother's day. The Oldest Urchin, who's eight, wrote and illustrated a book for me. The Adventures of Batwoman and Batgirl (she and I). Batwoman and Batgirl are taking care of the Batcave while Batman and Robin are away on vacation. That includes the Super Bat Computer.
When all of the super villains escape from Arkham Asylum, the mother/daughter team take care of business! It's awesome.
The Youngest Urchin gave me a fantastic gift as well. Stevie Ray Vaughn was playing on the radio, and she asked if it was B.B. King. Her music education is sinking in!
So how goes it in your life? What's crazy/busy? What's awesome? How was your Mother's Day? Lay it on me!
you recover from your motorcycle accident by lying on the couch and watching The Antiques Roadshow. After that eneded, Lawrence Welk came on and I was unable to find the remote. I had to send my five year old upstairs to have my husband rescue me from THIS!!!!
It almost broke me. (bone wracking shudders)
As they say, there's two kinds of riders; those who've laid down their bikes and those who haven't . . .yet. So yes, I took a small spill on my motorcycle on the way to my monthly writers meeting. I'm mostly okay, and the bike is fine. Just a cracked turn signal light and a few small scuffs.
I was going through an S turn under a train overpass, and a huge pick up truck hauling a trailer was coming the other direction. He took the turn wide and I swerved to get out of his way. The bike tipped too far and went over. I hit the pavement on my shoulder and did a Pete Rose slide across the asphalt.
As usual, I was wearing jeans, boots, motorcycle jacket with armor, helmet and gloves. (Though there's no armor on the front of the jacket.) I put my foot down to try and stop the fall, and am having some soreness in the knee, probably from the force and weight of the bike, my shoulders and neck are sore. And my left boob. Could have done without that.
The driver didn't stop, and I slid into the middle of the road, which could have been fatal if someone came around the corner behind me right away, and my cycle hit the bank. Another motorcycle rider was coming in the opposite direction. He pulled over and helped me out, made sure I was okay and that my bike still ran. Great guy. Harley rider. Salt of the Earth, as are most of them.
So there's the abbreviated version of my accident. I'm still stiff and sore. I still ran the writer's meeting and went to lunch after. I'm nothing if not stupid hard core.
Of course I now have more fear in riding, and the thought has crossed my mind that it may be time to give it up. We'll see what I think in a week or two.
So how was your weekend? Hope it was better than mine.
So, wow. Yeah. It's Friday and I haven't blogged in about eight days. Got lots of reasons. Wanna hear them? Here they are.*
I accepted a part time job at a nursery school that begins in the fall. Big decision that I agonized over for several days.
I'm running out of time to get everything done for the huge environmental days I volunteered to help with and somehow ended up in charge of with no one else helping me.
I weeded the yard of an old friend who was diagnosed with ALS. She's been very self conscious and hasn't wanted me to see her since she is now unable to speak and had a feeding tube inserted into her stomach. It took much finagling and many emails to convince her. But she finally relented, which made me happy.
The blue-haired old ladies called a meeting of the New Year's Eve committee in the middle of the week to start planning for this year. They're going to kill me with meetings. But as I've mentioned before, little old ladies are my Kryptonite. I just cannot tell them no.
And tomorrow is my writers' meeting and I had to get everything ready to preside over that.
Plus several other things I can't remember on top of the regular grind. So tell me, how was your week?
*said like David Allen Grier when he was on In Living Color as a blues singer
This is a clip of the Nicholas brothers from Stormy Weather. Fred Astaire said it was the best piece of dancing ever captured on film. Who's going to argue with Fred? Not me. The part where they jumped over each other on the stairs was done in one take. Get ready for your jaw to drop.
You're welcome.
(The man they slap hands with in the beginning is Cab Calloway.)
This has been a terrifyingly busy month. I found myself
juggling several new huge projects along with everything else I’m doing in my
life. It threw my balance right over. To the point that I wished I could find a
mental chiropractor to straighten me out. Since there aren’t any, I did it myself.
It took a few days to rearrange my life into a new order, but now I believe I
have a rhythm that will work.
But it’s eating at me that I’ve had to compromise and reduce
some of the time I’d had for other things. Namely, writing.I’m impatient to finish these projects,
which are exterior goals for others, and get back to writing- an interior goal
for myself. Even though on the horizon, there may be a full-time job
opportunity, which will have me rearranging once again.
But I think my impatience is good. It keeps me striving to
do more and be on the lookout for opportunities to forward my writing career. It’s
an outward indication of the passion I feel for becoming a published author. So
even though my mother always told me that patience is a virtue, for me, it’s the
impatience that will get it done.
So here's the latest saga. On Friday morning at school, she apparently found a bug in her hair and ripped it out. She went to the nurse because it left a mark. Nurse applied antibiotic ointment and the Urchin remembered to tell me about it. I checked it out, and there was a red mark and possibly a scab. Saturday comes and goes with me checking it periodically. Saturday night I finally decide I don't think it's a scab.
And it's not. It's insect mouth parts.
Which I try with no success to remove. So I apply liberal amounts of ichthamol (which reminds me of the living sludge from Creep Show*) in a hail Mary attempt to draw out said insect mouth parts.
Icky, icky, ichthamol.
* Not for the weakly constituted. This clip is really gross.
It was a long, hard, painful extraction, in which that brave little toaster only said "ow" twice, and I'm happy to report that all visible bug parts have been removed. Sigh. Here's hoping tomorrow's a little less adventurous.
I've got to stop volunteering. I swore I wouldn't be the one completely in charge of my daughter's off site environmental field day for her entire elementary school. But here I am, completely in charge of it. In charge of finding volunteers, planning all the activities, scheduling all the events, preparing materials lists and then acquiring them. There's more, but I won't bore you.
From the last writer's meeting to this I've critiqued twelve chapters from three different people, wrote three new chapters of my own, edited them and sent them off to my crit partner and was well on my way to getting a jump on writing the next chapter. My writers' meeting is Saturday, and I rocked my writing goal for the month. I made some pretty good progress, yet now I've gone and tied up my time with a huge, though beneficial, volunteer project.
I think I'm self sabotaging. Maybe deep down in my subconscious I don't really want to finish a book and attempt to sell it. Maybe all this writing and working on craft and self education on the different avenues of publishing are all a ruse. Maybe deep down I just want to be . . .
Now I'm off to align state science and ecology standards with outdoor activities. Seriously. Somebody really needs to stop me.
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