In A Bookish, Quilty Mood

The breaks in the cloud are faint, but cannot be dismissed! The sun isn't shining, a menacing marine layer keeping those of us along the North Coast aching in the gray. However to the southeast a break in the mundane is trying to emerge. This delicious light stirs me to write this post, because despite it being the high days of summer, our landscape has felt like the dark days of late autumn for too damn long. A metaphor perhaps for all that blankets our current world scene? Sure! Big ugly legislation, miserable conditions everywhere we turn, natural disasters wreaking havoc, tender souls wrenched from reality; all these traumas want to strip our joy, leave us bereft. I woke to another gray morning, assuming the flat dull horizon would remain. However peeks of brightness remind me that all is not lost. Goodness prevails. Does this mean the sun and blue sky are about to muscle in, shoving the dreariness aside? No. The marine layer is far too entrenched for that to occur AT THIS MOME...

My last flag? Time will tell.... I dreamed last night I could squat. Not that I could do them, like an exercise, although subsequently in the dream I did do them repeatedly, but initially it was that I merely COULD do one. One squat turned into maybe ten? And I was so surprised/thrilled/curious. How in the world did my measly daily stretches allow for SQUATS? (And what exactly does this have to do with the step count?) [And the more pertinent question: Why am I pulling the plug, perhaps only temporarily, on my seemingly thorough dedication to raising as much joyful hell as possible?] I've been sleeping poorly, until last night. This past night I got nearly NINE HOURS of slumber, badly needed and gratefully received. Why did I rest so decently, other than eventually sleep wins? Maybe because last night I made the executive decision to unplug from Bluesky during Lent. Actually, I'm going to begin that Lenten fast a little early; I'll be done tomorrow after posting the last Bl...

Flags, courage, gardening, and staying the course.... Future Me was hanging around over the weekend, especially on Saturday as I finished my Pride in the Flag flag. She has been conspicuously ABSENT for a good while, since Breathing space . I don't blame her in a way. I've certainly wanted to abscond to distant lands. I do not have the luxury of time travel. She, however, possesses fairy-godlike abilities, usually for which I am grateful. This weekend her presence was minimal, yet soothing, as though she kept the rain from falling until I could photograph Pride on the laundry line. She didn't say much, perhaps our conversations are mostly of an ethereal nature, absorbed like breathing. Sometimes her voice wafts softly, often she snorts sharply. She does a lot of snorting, smirking, eye rolling, as though I'm a truculent child in constant need of being upbraided. Or maybe she's weary of this on-off-on again existence, wishing she could retire to sew or write or garde...

Wales, United Kingdom, February 2000. Noth frowned, then wondered why he mattered so much to Sooz. Glancing at Dardram, Noth wasn’t reassured by that man’s slight nod. Gripping the pad, Noth replied to Squee: Any of you have a weapon in case it decides not to let me go? How much of your life do you truly possess, Squee answered. Go on, Squee added, I doubt they’ll keep you more than a minute or two. How much OF our lives do we possess indeed. The writing above is from my fictional WIP, of which I read a few chapters this morning. I'm feeling better emotionally, but I slept like crap, went back to sleep and am now suffering from post-nap BLEH. Even if the nap was from five to seven a.m. However, it's still earlier-ish in the morning, time to write something. I told my husband that writing these posts lightens my heart, my authorial heart . I miss being a writer something fierce! One of these days, I tell myself. It's just a matter of time. Time is kinda on my brain right...

Upsized, non-diagonal crazy quilt. Uh, sure.... After a book release, some necessary non-writing days are required. So yeah. I haven't done more with the novel-gig than read a few chapters of A Love Story , which actually does need to happen, as I'm planning to publish Book 3 of The Enran Chronicles in March. Have to remind myself of the plot, lol, although losing the plot seems to be America's current theme, however Bishop Mariann Budde is a Christian ROCK STAR, not meaning to belittle her bravery. Sometimes rock stars don't wield guitars or drum sticks you know. Sometimes it's all about the heart. My heart has required non-noveling pastimes, like throwing an obnoxious quilt onto the wall, pictured above. A bunch of smallish cuts I recently acquired hashed/clashed out with solids from my scraps stash, to be embellished with HEARTS! Dangit, why can't anyone in the new administration think with their heart right now? Ahem, Future Me huffs, giving me a slightly u...