Comfort Food

Comfort food doesn't really have that much to do with eating. Not for me, anyway. It's about someone taking the time, about a human touch, some love going into it. I think I could sit and look at cupcakes all day.

On another note, I planted my violas and pansies out today to ensure a new batch of cupcakes next spring/ summer. I'm already looking forward to them. I don't even need to eat them; just have a cup of tea and admire them.

Just Because I Can.

Sally was not allowed to go out at night.
"It's dark. You'll step in dog poo," said Dad.
"The meanies will get you!" said Momma.
"Shhhh," said Grandma. "Wait till later."
When it was dark, and Sally was supposed to be in bed, Grandma took her walking stick from the umbrella stand. She took her old woolly cardigan with the patched elbows that had belonged to Grandpa Gene.
"You put on your jacket and lace up your shoes now, and we'll go."
And they did.
"Hello," they said to a young man with a spray can. He took off running.
They peeked in the window at the baker. He wasn't up yet. He was at home writing a novel almost as bad as this story. "Don't give up your night job." his friends would say.
"Oh look, a flying sofa!" said Gramma, and there it was, with a spotted chicken on it.

Kuh-ku?

Fly-ku

Into the red soup
Chunks of spicy miso make
a great landing strip

Kuh-ku

Chewing sweet clover
Again and again she farts
From seven stomachs

Bye-ku

I am out of words
And all of you are relieved
To see my backside

At It Again

Well, as I indicated last post, I'm taking another drawing class. The first day back was hard. The class is three and a half hours, and just physically grueling. The model held positions for 20-30 minutes at a time, and even then had to twitch and flex periodically to keep from going completely numb. Anyone who thinks modeling for a drawing class is easy has probably never tried it.

Anyway, my drawings were not very satisfactory. No real surprise, as I'm very out of practice. I'll post some later if I do some worth posting.

Still waiting to hear from various publishers. Not really expecting anything other than a rejection. *sigh.* What's a girl gotta do around here to get a decent education in writing around here? Keep writing, I guess...

In the mean time, since I have nothing else to post, I'll post these, from a walk in the alps, just for the general betterment of moods all around:

Lost For Words

I don't have much to say at the moment. I am grumpy and trying to figure out what I need to do. Now that I'd decided once and for all to write and *only* write this autumn, my favourite and extremely excellent former teacher and sent me a letter, asking for a few more students to fill up his life drawing class which is in danger of being cancelled. So now that I've said I will only write, I have this to post:

I think it's the first time Middlekid has held still long enough for me to do a scribble.

Boomerang Sub

Perhaps I should just crawl back under my rock. Consider the facts:

1. My local SCBWI president has made it a personal goal that nothing will EVER be accomplished in our chapter. Since I joined in 2006, we have had one meeting. When we tried to create an agenda for that meeting, we were met with cries of "No, no! This is just to get aquainted!" Presumably, we will discuss the possibly of an agenda at the next meeting, in another 3 years...
2. My GWW Kidlit class is a waste of time, with a flakey instructor who gives vague, ungrammatical, misspelled, mispunctuated, useless comments. Late.
3. My critique group has started subbing fragments. Literally. "I just wrote this down and it doesn't really go anywhere or have an ending and it's only one and a half pages long and I haven't really developed the characters at all and I haven't bothered to proofread it yet but what do you guys think?"
4. I've been rejected again.

Really, I should be happy. It was personal, no feedback, but an invitation to submit again, which isn't bad considering it's only the third submission I've made in my entire life.

(Another one to skip if you're squemish) Happy happy happy!

Yay!
The "shtrange shtuff" the doctor pulled out of my uterus was not what he thought it was. I could tell yesterday, as he stood at the foot of the bed, that he was worried. I will still have to go for regular check-ups every six months, but I am probably not going to die in the near future, and that is a big, big relief.

Yay!