Still February

Feel free to ignore this post if it makes you uncomfortable.  It makes me uncomfortable.

Some of my fellow bloglodytes remember why I started this blog.  It was an outlet, and a dumping ground for feelings that didn't have anywhere else to go.  It was also, and I hope has been, a place to heal, grow and become less whiny.  To try and shift my focus and energies onto something more productive than being sad.  But it's nearly March, and I'm finding it difficult.  I know some of you guys now, in a pixilated, ethernetty sort of way,  so it doesn't feel like I'm just dumping my negativity into the nowhere anymore; it feels like I'm dumping it on people, and I'm sorry about that, but it's got to get out, or I'll explode and the mess in my office will be even bigger.  So I'm trying to keep writing, trying to get everything ready for Thirdling's BD party, and just generally trying to keep my chin up, but I suspect I will not be my usual barrel of laughs this month.

Let's blame my overuse of commas on present circumstances, shall we?
Over and out.

Brrrr....

Last year I wrote this whiny post in February (do I write any other kind?) but somehow never saw the last comment, made by Paca, in the comment trail. I happened upon it just now because I was wondering if I had posted pictures of last February, and if it was as much of a frozen wasteland as this February.

Anyway, here's a poem, inspired both by Paca's comment and, alas, my current nasal condition:

Ode to Boogers

The boogers that sit in my nose

Resisting the firmest of blows

Are thoroughly überdried

Heck, they are petrified!

At least seventeen on the Mohs.

The rhythm is a little off, but the meaning is very deep. Yes, I know it's a limerick, but "Limerick to Boogers?"

Anyway, it is really cold. I honestly can't remember the last time we hit February and there wasn't a single Schneestolz or Schneeglöggli or Crocus up. A few things are just barely peeping up.

These bottom sprouts are yellow because the girls raked the yard three weeks ago when we had a brief warm spell and the snow melted. That's how little sun we've had since then! Three weeks they've had. I had to turn the flash off on the camera. It's so grey, it kept trying to flash. That was at 10:30 this morning, not twilight or something.

The middle ones are daffodils. I wonder if they will make it up by Easter. Only we like a wee bit o' flowery stuff with our annual Pagan Reproduction Day celebrations. >:]

If I make peace with the boogers, will we have to sign a Nasal Treaty, do you think?

(Sorry. I needed the laugh.)

Not Dead, Just Hibernating

I'm running a little behind. And the photographs are in exactly the wrong order; sorry about that. They are mostly self-explanatory, at least.
From bottom:
1) Mandarinli ('Mandy') in the Weihnachtsbaum
2) Mandy in the tree, attacking a chocolate mouse
3) Peppercorn, trying to blend in, failing to blend in
4) Offspring, making annual Snow Goon
5) View from office window
6) Peppercorn, fishing.

Now! This is a writing blog, right?
So.
I have stopped submitting anything temporarily. I am a strange sort of mental lummox, and can't seem to remember that the important thing is the writing bit and not the getting published bit, so I am not submitting before summer, just writing. Writing writing writing. At the moment I am only writing crap, but at least I am writing. I can't seem to remember how, can't seem to open that vein at the moment, and can't tell if I'm trying too hard or not trying hard enough. This leads to desperately boring activities such as writing a list of the items on my desk. I don't dare write about any of the characters in any of my half finished stories, because they are all against me anyway and won't cooperate.
My mind even goes blank when faced with EE's engaging cartoonery. Of course, it's always possible that Evil has installed a mind-suck virus to dupe the minions he lures onto that page- I wouldn't put it past him, but I'm blaming the whole thing on

WINTER

which I hate.
The mere fact that setting all my manuscripts on fire would produce heat is an almost unbearable temptation.

Winter is Generally Cold

I guess it's easy to see why the winter holidays are so popular. A couple or five thousand years ago the winters must have seemed even longer and darker since there was a very real chance you wouldn't survive them.

So, sodding the whole 'Jesus Wants Me for a Sunbeam' aspect of the holidays for the moment, what do they mean? It's cold, nothing's growing, and it's daaaaaaaaaaaark outside. A feasting tradition was long established before Christianity cobbled Christmas onto the winter solstice. When we slaughtered our Tofurkey at midwinter (after all, everything you didn't kill, you had to feed!) most of us didn't like to watch the people down the street starve and freeze to death. When days were at their darkest and Spring seemed an impossible thing, we tripped down the road with a tuna casserole. (I mean that metaphorically. In my case it would be a vegi-lasagna.)

What I'm getting at is that calling a winter Geschenkschlacht* 'Christmas' seems counterintuitive. It's just not possible that no one thought of giving presents in midwinter till 2000 years ago. When times are hard, we throw bread and garlic fried tofu at each other in all affection. Right? Because if that wasn't the case, we wouldn't have even survived till 2000 years ago. So I want a new word. Not Christmas, not Chanukah, or any of those others- yes, fine; you can keep them as well, but they all make me uneasy. Somehow each one implies (maybe it's only inside my squidgy little head) but each one implies that only those people practicing that religion are kind and good-hearted enough to lend a hand in the mid-winter when times are hard. This is what I object to. "Winter Is Crap, So Let Us Give Each Other Presents" doesn't lend itself to good acronyms.

So, Bloglodytes? Who's got a good name for it? Anybody?


*(love that word! It literally means 'gift-battle.' I envision it a bit like a food fight only with everything wrapped and less messy.)

Three Minutes of Your Weekend

are about to be sucked into a vortex, never to be seen again, unredeemable, etc., etc., but in return I give you How to Embarrass Mum and Dad.

Childhood Favourites of Mother(Re) as a Kid

Inspired by Prickles (who seems to have caught the virus from JJdeBenedictus) and since I have nothing else appropriately retro to post for retro week, (unless you feel like having my entire collection of GTP entries inflicted on you,) I thought I'd post something inappropriately retro.

The fun thing about this song is I have actually seen it performed live. I was in fourth grade when this weird man with an insane beard who must have been really, really old came and sang for us (in 1978) and I never forgot it. I checked I Eat Kids out of the public library again and again, and whatever else they had by good old "Barry Louis Polar Bear," as he is now known in our house. When I had kids, his albums were out of print (or whatever albums are out of.) I googled him and voila! He said they've been re-recorded and I bought the new album. The fun bit is, he turned out to not be as ancient as he appeared to my 10 year old self. He's only 14 years older than me, and there are only a couple of years separating our kids in age. And, after several e-mail exchanges concerning nostalgia and availability of records and whatnot, I can also say, he's a really nice guy.

Imagine my surprise and delight when he turned up as the theme song for Juno! (Which I haven't managed to see yet, by the bye.)

Actually, my favorite favorite is "I Need You Like a Donut Needs a Hole," but I couldn't find it on youtube.

Bloglodyte Reonion

At the good natured cactorial proddings of the cute, fluffy, undangerous Paca, I am moved to write the following:

It is true that we write for ourselves. We would write even if no one were reading it. In fact, many of us did, blogging along with no perceivable audience for months on end, writing our little stories, sending them out, and listening for that distant and inevitable "kapwing." (Actually, I want to design a T-shirt like that for Cafepress or Threadless or one o'them- a manuscript flying across the shirt with the word "kapwing" written under it. "Kapwing" is a nice word. I really like that word.) Errrm... ..

What was I blogging about? Oh, yes; community. Yes yes! We are good little writers and would write on faithfully into the vacuum, but! But but but! It is so much more rewarding if other people will tell you it's crap so you don't have to do it yourself all the time. No one is better at telling you, in the nicest and most productive manner possible, than the Evil Editor. I can't remember how I found EE. That's the sad truth. I was strung out on rejection slips, looking for ways to better myself without leaving the house (am I the only one who likes to stay in her Dr Denton's all day?) and so I started, shyly, putting in my cartoon captions, my less than 50 words for the Guess The Plots, just to get some response, even if it was only a single comment. Occasionally I even made one. I lurked around reading the blogs of the other minions, when all that was no longer enough, I. I. This is hard, you know...






i did a writing exercise.


Yes, it's true. But being the chicken hearted pathetico that I am, I didn't have the guts till March, 2009.
It was a lovely challenge. Write a rejection letter! Here's what I wrote:

Dear Ms. Wildesel:

We regret to inform you we will not be needing your services as a teacher at the Townham Primary School again next year. While we freely admit it was our mistake to believe your were using 'humour' when you answered the question 'What do you like most about working with small children?' with 'crushing their fragile little egos,' we do not feel legally or ethically bound to extend your employment. In addition, we would recommend that if anyone in the future is desperate enough to entrust you with another school class, it may be a good idea to check which students can swim before planning an outing to Bottomless Lake. Also, please familiarize yourself with the difference between 'dyslexia' and 'anorexia' for the good of all mankind.

We appreciate your application to renew employment at our school, but unanimously agree that 'Gimme the job please because I need to pay for a new snowboard' is not a good pitch. If, after due consideration, you decide you would like to pursue employment with us, we feel it is our duty to inform you that we have land mines in the teacher's parking lot with your name on them.

Cordially,

Silvia Peabody, Principal and The Teachers and Staff of Townham Primary School, including the Custodial Staff

The School Board

Every Single Student except Cameron 'I Embrace the Darkness' Smith

Townham Hospital Medical Personnel (and Custodial Staff)

The Townham Ladies Auxiliary

And my dog, Fluffy, and his remaining three legs.

It's been one long, hedonistic verbfest since then. Be sure to check out the other retrospective posts from Bloglodytes:

Fairy Hedgehog

Robin

McKoala

Whirlochre