Monday, October 26, 2009
Speaking of...
Saturday, October 24, 2009
Playtime
I haven't really been doing a lot of writing this week. I've been slowly, achingly slowly, doing what Julia Cameron calls an Artist Date: doing something that is purely play, with no purpose and no anticipated outcome, for no good reason other than it's fun and it makes me happy.
Oooo, and do I feel wicked by Saturday Night? I wish. LOL
It's just that I have no business feeling wicked, given how hard I have fought this all week. I have a father from New England (Hi Dad!!!) and as any of you old school New Englanders know, Fun is Not Allowed. I have that impulse to tamp down fun drilled deep into me by a Dad who I know for a fact never meant for me to inherit it. But here it is, and fight it I must.
Hmm...Yoda moment.
Anyhoo, I have had the equivalent of a near emotional break down this week, all in the name of doing stuff I want to do just because I feel like doing it. I'll assume you normal people don't deal with this, but I do. And I finally figured out what really makes me sing: Food.
I like to play with my food.
And I keep forgetting that too. There are a lot of food intolerances and allergies in this household, and so food is not something we tend to approach lightly. It's hard to get excited about something that may keep you up all night, and for Mr MM especially, 30-some-odd years of battling various food and food-born mold issues have made him very wary of food in general. Its something he keeps an uneasy peace with, rather than looking forward to encountering it. There's certainly no such thing as 'comfort food' around here.
In case you're wondering, it breaks down like this:
Pickles: Celiac
Fang: Celiac; fin fish allergy (we have no idea about shellfish, but probably -- and I'm not testing it neither!)
Me: Gluten sensitive, fin fish allergy
Mr MM: (are you sitting down?) Mold -- any and all of them; Celiac; Beef; Chicken; Sulfites; Sensitive to the following: soy, pork, seafood, PGPR, MSG, anything carrot-related (this includes dill and parsley), all evergreen products (no rosemary, no pine nuts).
We're pretty sure, based on his medical history, that he started showing his first Celiac symptoms at age 3, and has shown his mold allergy symptoms since birth. However, no one ever thought to test him for Celiac or extrapolate an environmental mold allergy to a food-born one until he was 31 years old and his thyroid was slowly killing him. That was fun, as an aside, to have a 18 month old and a husband with a massive mystery illness that kept him in bed with a surgical mask on all the time. Should I mention the allergen-reactive asthma that's resulted from his environmental allergies? The ones that make us run a scent-free household (thanks for nothing, Whole Foods and your 'fragrance free actually means no fragrance added' changes). But, I digress...
What this means for me, the least intolerant in the house, is that I forget that food is also supposed to taste good and be pleasing to both body and spirit. It's just such a damned honking big deal around here, I forget.
Oh, I should also mention that Mr MM is one of those people the fragrance industry refers to as a Nose. And being a Nose means that his taste buds are also exquisitely sensitive. He'll eat about 4 things. I can make anything I want to for dinner, as long as it tastes like these four dishes. Sustaining and non-threatening to him, but (much as I love him) stultifying for me. I love food, I love new tastes, I love to play.
I moon over recipes the way most women moon over diamonds.
So this week I have been mooning over baby pumpkin pies and fabulous painted cookies and pumpkin pancakes (it is October), and I tried to make a roasted salsa (wretched, but I tried and I think I know what to fix) and I finally re-tooled a couple of my mother's favorite recipes. Tomorrow I will make breakfast quick bread because I like it and I want to eat it and that really is a good enough reason. I am hungry again, really finally hungry, in a way I haven't been for about a year. Tonight I still need to do something with the turkey breast, and I am thinking a lovely saute in a little butter and oil, with tarragon and sea salt. Maybe. I don't know.
And, the wedding night scene is starting to thaw out finally. A little. I may need more chocolate chip marble bar before I get it right. *wink*
Oooo, and do I feel wicked by Saturday Night? I wish. LOL
It's just that I have no business feeling wicked, given how hard I have fought this all week. I have a father from New England (Hi Dad!!!) and as any of you old school New Englanders know, Fun is Not Allowed. I have that impulse to tamp down fun drilled deep into me by a Dad who I know for a fact never meant for me to inherit it. But here it is, and fight it I must.
Hmm...Yoda moment.
Anyhoo, I have had the equivalent of a near emotional break down this week, all in the name of doing stuff I want to do just because I feel like doing it. I'll assume you normal people don't deal with this, but I do. And I finally figured out what really makes me sing: Food.
I like to play with my food.
And I keep forgetting that too. There are a lot of food intolerances and allergies in this household, and so food is not something we tend to approach lightly. It's hard to get excited about something that may keep you up all night, and for Mr MM especially, 30-some-odd years of battling various food and food-born mold issues have made him very wary of food in general. Its something he keeps an uneasy peace with, rather than looking forward to encountering it. There's certainly no such thing as 'comfort food' around here.
In case you're wondering, it breaks down like this:
Pickles: Celiac
Fang: Celiac; fin fish allergy (we have no idea about shellfish, but probably -- and I'm not testing it neither!)
Me: Gluten sensitive, fin fish allergy
Mr MM: (are you sitting down?) Mold -- any and all of them; Celiac; Beef; Chicken; Sulfites; Sensitive to the following: soy, pork, seafood, PGPR, MSG, anything carrot-related (this includes dill and parsley), all evergreen products (no rosemary, no pine nuts).
We're pretty sure, based on his medical history, that he started showing his first Celiac symptoms at age 3, and has shown his mold allergy symptoms since birth. However, no one ever thought to test him for Celiac or extrapolate an environmental mold allergy to a food-born one until he was 31 years old and his thyroid was slowly killing him. That was fun, as an aside, to have a 18 month old and a husband with a massive mystery illness that kept him in bed with a surgical mask on all the time. Should I mention the allergen-reactive asthma that's resulted from his environmental allergies? The ones that make us run a scent-free household (thanks for nothing, Whole Foods and your 'fragrance free actually means no fragrance added' changes). But, I digress...
What this means for me, the least intolerant in the house, is that I forget that food is also supposed to taste good and be pleasing to both body and spirit. It's just such a damned honking big deal around here, I forget.
Oh, I should also mention that Mr MM is one of those people the fragrance industry refers to as a Nose. And being a Nose means that his taste buds are also exquisitely sensitive. He'll eat about 4 things. I can make anything I want to for dinner, as long as it tastes like these four dishes. Sustaining and non-threatening to him, but (much as I love him) stultifying for me. I love food, I love new tastes, I love to play.
I moon over recipes the way most women moon over diamonds.
So this week I have been mooning over baby pumpkin pies and fabulous painted cookies and pumpkin pancakes (it is October), and I tried to make a roasted salsa (wretched, but I tried and I think I know what to fix) and I finally re-tooled a couple of my mother's favorite recipes. Tomorrow I will make breakfast quick bread because I like it and I want to eat it and that really is a good enough reason. I am hungry again, really finally hungry, in a way I haven't been for about a year. Tonight I still need to do something with the turkey breast, and I am thinking a lovely saute in a little butter and oil, with tarragon and sea salt. Maybe. I don't know.
And, the wedding night scene is starting to thaw out finally. A little. I may need more chocolate chip marble bar before I get it right. *wink*
Sunday, October 18, 2009
World Peace and a New VCR
Why is October so frantic?!
I remember, when I was younger, that I would always have a test -- a major one, not just a quiz -- on my birthday. And that would be the kick off to Halloween parties, which means coming up with costumes and decorating, and then that bleeds right into Thanksgiving with all its major food prep and possible travel (miserable travel -- unless you fly on Thanksgiving Day and then it's a breeze!).
And then there's the headlong flinging of oneself towards Christmas.
I'll talk about The Holidays (dun-dun-DUN!!!) another time. For now, suffice it to say that October snuck up on me once again and I am at an utter loss for how to organize my time. There's a magic time in early September when I've got it goin' on: I've got the laundry done and the dishes done and the floors clean and the toilets sanitary and unsentient. The writing's done daily and in nice, productive 3-hour long blocks so I can write more than a sentence a day. My kids don't feel like their mother has abandoned them, and Mr MM is not walking around the house harrumphing for his fair share too.
And now it's October and all Hell's broken loose again.
Here's this week's list of Stuff I Really Oughta Do:
1. Finish cutting out/glitterizing Halloween decorations for the windows, so I can
2. Hang Halloween decorations around the house and in the windows.
3. Cook, a lot.
4. Laundry
5. Dishes
6. Floors
7. Toilets (notice toilets is #7? I hate that job too).
8. Write the wedding night for this poor couple*
9. Begin plotting the Christmas story I keep threatening people with.
10. Return phone calls
11. Return emails
12. Get in car, drive to store and find giftie for person in Ireland to whom I owe something very special -- I've been waiting for Christmas angels to get stocked. *wink*
13. Dig under couch cushions to find money to send Christmas angel to said Irish angel.
14. Deal with Mr MM's own ideas about what we should be doing this week, which will fatally randomize and destroy the above list.
*sigh*
It's 9am local time as I am finishing this entry.
*I did finish the wedding itself, and since that's the squeaky clean version of the situation, I did post that on the website the rest of the story is placed on -- to a really warm welcome -- thank you, everyone!!
But it's not here at Word Anxiety yet, because here I can post what I really meant, which includes their wedding night. Wedding nights in historical novels take time and care to write, because it is quite often the woman's very first time. I have two thoughts right now about this sort of thing: I have a responsibility to be believable, which means it will hurt her. It doesn't hurt because she's frigid. It hurts because she's never been stretched and hymens are tough and mean ol' buggers that require a little effort to breach. But, I am also a True Believer in the Good and the Beautiful, and that means he's going to love her enough to work himself senseless to make it as painless as he can. The lovely thing about writing this stuff is that, vicariously, I get to experience a man being a Man, meaning he's in the lead but also thoughtful and is paying actual attention to what's happening to himself and the people around him.
NEWS FLASH fellas! This is what women really want: your attention. Roses and chocolate and jewelry and lap dogs and fancy clothes and flashy cars are for you, so you feel like you're doing something. And that's not to say they aren't wonderful gestures that cost you a lot of money. They are, and bless you for remembering! But any woman really worth your time wants you to be emotionally and mentally available to her. Stay away from the sluts who only want what you can buy them. You want a woman who is genuinely interested in what you think and how you feel -- and she wants that level of interest in return. Otherwise, both you and she are wasting each other's time.
Ok, rant over. :)
I remember, when I was younger, that I would always have a test -- a major one, not just a quiz -- on my birthday. And that would be the kick off to Halloween parties, which means coming up with costumes and decorating, and then that bleeds right into Thanksgiving with all its major food prep and possible travel (miserable travel -- unless you fly on Thanksgiving Day and then it's a breeze!).
And then there's the headlong flinging of oneself towards Christmas.
I'll talk about The Holidays (dun-dun-DUN!!!) another time. For now, suffice it to say that October snuck up on me once again and I am at an utter loss for how to organize my time. There's a magic time in early September when I've got it goin' on: I've got the laundry done and the dishes done and the floors clean and the toilets sanitary and unsentient. The writing's done daily and in nice, productive 3-hour long blocks so I can write more than a sentence a day. My kids don't feel like their mother has abandoned them, and Mr MM is not walking around the house harrumphing for his fair share too.
And now it's October and all Hell's broken loose again.
Here's this week's list of Stuff I Really Oughta Do:
1. Finish cutting out/glitterizing Halloween decorations for the windows, so I can
2. Hang Halloween decorations around the house and in the windows.
3. Cook, a lot.
4. Laundry
5. Dishes
6. Floors
7. Toilets (notice toilets is #7? I hate that job too).
8. Write the wedding night for this poor couple*
9. Begin plotting the Christmas story I keep threatening people with.
10. Return phone calls
11. Return emails
12. Get in car, drive to store and find giftie for person in Ireland to whom I owe something very special -- I've been waiting for Christmas angels to get stocked. *wink*
13. Dig under couch cushions to find money to send Christmas angel to said Irish angel.
14. Deal with Mr MM's own ideas about what we should be doing this week, which will fatally randomize and destroy the above list.
*sigh*
It's 9am local time as I am finishing this entry.
*I did finish the wedding itself, and since that's the squeaky clean version of the situation, I did post that on the website the rest of the story is placed on -- to a really warm welcome -- thank you, everyone!!
But it's not here at Word Anxiety yet, because here I can post what I really meant, which includes their wedding night. Wedding nights in historical novels take time and care to write, because it is quite often the woman's very first time. I have two thoughts right now about this sort of thing: I have a responsibility to be believable, which means it will hurt her. It doesn't hurt because she's frigid. It hurts because she's never been stretched and hymens are tough and mean ol' buggers that require a little effort to breach. But, I am also a True Believer in the Good and the Beautiful, and that means he's going to love her enough to work himself senseless to make it as painless as he can. The lovely thing about writing this stuff is that, vicariously, I get to experience a man being a Man, meaning he's in the lead but also thoughtful and is paying actual attention to what's happening to himself and the people around him.
NEWS FLASH fellas! This is what women really want: your attention. Roses and chocolate and jewelry and lap dogs and fancy clothes and flashy cars are for you, so you feel like you're doing something. And that's not to say they aren't wonderful gestures that cost you a lot of money. They are, and bless you for remembering! But any woman really worth your time wants you to be emotionally and mentally available to her. Stay away from the sluts who only want what you can buy them. You want a woman who is genuinely interested in what you think and how you feel -- and she wants that level of interest in return. Otherwise, both you and she are wasting each other's time.
Ok, rant over. :)
Monday, October 12, 2009
Progress...or Not.
Today, I should be writing some couple's wedding, and it's just not happening. I have answered email, I have switched laundry, I have trawled around online, and contemplated making more bats for the windows. But wedding? Uh-uh. Not happening.
Maybe tonight or tomorrow, when my brain comes back after its many adventures...
Maybe tonight or tomorrow, when my brain comes back after its many adventures...
Sunday, October 11, 2009
Mucking About...
...and mucking out.
As you can see, I'm changing formats and templates and such. I'm also assessing myself -- always a dicey prospect -- and it's getting complicated. *sigh* Ok, ugly. There. I said it.
Anyway, don't be surprised at a few changes, though I will still be self-centeredly blathering about my own thoughts. That won't change. LOL
xx mm
As you can see, I'm changing formats and templates and such. I'm also assessing myself -- always a dicey prospect -- and it's getting complicated. *sigh* Ok, ugly. There. I said it.
Anyway, don't be surprised at a few changes, though I will still be self-centeredly blathering about my own thoughts. That won't change. LOL
xx mm
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
Auto Pilot
Hi all.
This blog is currently on auto pilot.
Will be back online when I'm actually writing again...I hope. :)
xx mm
This blog is currently on auto pilot.
Will be back online when I'm actually writing again...I hope. :)
xx mm
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