Crafty Auntie

Early last week, one of my plates fell and broke.  It wasn’t a big deal, and I knew it was just a plate, but it still bothered me.  Not that it broke, or that it was my fault – but that I no longer have equal numbers of all my dishes.  I decided to hunt around online, maybe visit a few stores at some point – surely the store from which I bought the set of dishes would also have single plates for sale!

That was the plan, at least.

The next day, I heard that a tornado – two, in fact – had just passed through my Wet State.  My family in the Wet State is safe.  The worst that happened was that some lost power for a few days.

Others weren’t so fortunate.  A few deaths were reported (I’m not sure just how many).  There was a fair amount of building damage.  One high school was separated from its gym.  Trees were uprooted and littered the road.  I’m rather glad that the (rather tall) pine tree next to the Family House in the Wet State was cut down some weeks ago.

And then, of course, life likes to make things interesting all at once.  On Friday, one of the Residents of my Apartment accidentally left the stovetop on after cooking.  Not a big deal, of course – except that we use a gas oven.  No flame was burning to remind us – all I noticed when I came downstairs was a slight smell of gas.  I assumed that it was left over from the cooking, and let it slide at that.  Some time later, one of the other Residents came home from work and remarked on the strong gas smell.  Immediately, she went over the the oven, turned the gas off, and opened the doors and windows.  I’d grown so used to it, I hadn’t noticed how strong it was.

Plates suddenly aren’t such a big deal.

Three days ago, I had intended to walk to a Local Library.  Due to unforeseen weather patterns, I was forced to change my plans, because it was raining.  As you probably know, most people don’t enjoy getting wet, and I hadn’t brought any of my rain gear to work (I was going to walk from my Place of Work to the Library, you see).  Therefore, I was forced to go back to my apartment without new reading material.

The next day, I had planned more carefully.  Rather than just walking outside (as is my want), I looked out the window first.  I saw the rain, grabbed a Rainproof Coat, and went to work.

I had decided on a number of books that I was interested in getting at the Library.  Due to my Foresight, I was able to remember to check out everything that I intended.  Unfortunately, in my own opinion, I suffered great disappointment in one of the books that I had planned to select.  It was available, and I was able to check it out.  The disappointment came later.  When I began reading it, I had a very hard time immersing myself into the plotline of the story.

Any guesses why?

After thinking about it for a while (this happened with the previous book in the series, so I have been thinking about it for a while), I think I’ve come to a conclusion.

The story’s writing is rather passive.  (And, unfortunately, the above use of “want” as seen above is an actual typo I came across.  I’m well aware that it should be “wont.”)  There’s also a lot (read: A LOT) of maid-and-butler going on – at least, that’s how it seems to me.  When the characters talk, there’s little going on between the lines of dialogue – it’s literally little more than “he said, she said.”

And it drives me crazy when characters use a previously-unmentioned-but-highly important element to drive a plot.  That just feels like cheating.  (As I mentioned when talking this over with a family member, if you look at the Harry Potter series, Horcruxes don’t appear out of the blue.  They’re first mentioned by name in book six, but there are references made throughout the entire series.)

If you suffered physical or mental pain reading the first paragraphs, I’m sorry.  I know how much it hurts.

The book I’m reading?  It’s just like that.  All the way through.  I shudder with every page I turn.  And yet…  I’ve stuck with this series for years.  I want to believe that on the next page, things will be better.  I care about the characters – though, I care less the more I read.  It’s hard to care about characters when reading hurts.

Here is another (less passive) way of saying the same thing as in my first paragraphs.  If you disagree, I’m sorry – please leave a comment, and I’ll learn from my mistake(s).

A few days ago, I planned to visit the Local Library.  This was not to be.

Of all days to rain, my Dry State chose that day.  Being my usual scatterbrained self, I forgot to take any precautions as I ran out the door on my way to Work – including a Rainproof coat or an umbrella.  I had a light sweater on, which was good – but not good enough for a Walk To The Library.  At the end of my workday, I looked at the clouds, checked how hard it was raining, and shrugged.  I didn’t have anything due, so there was no rush – though I was rather sad about a Good Book I’d read about online that I’d hoped to check out.  I decided to prepare better the next day.

The next day came.  It was (somehow) still raining.  I grabbed my sweater and a coat to throw on over it as I ran out the door.  It was barely drizzling when I finished Work for the day, so I felt good about visiting the Library.  (By the way, there really should be a verb just for that: going to the Library.)

Some of the books I wanted were there, though not all.  After checking them out, and getting back to my apartment, I sat down and read.

And read.

And read.

The book I’d wanted to read?  Everything I hoped for and more.  The next?  Still amazing.

There was one book I was somewhat hesitant to pick up.  It’s the latest book in a series my family has followed for several years.  I used to love them, but the last one was rather disappointing for us.  I thought I’d give the series another chance.

And now you know… the rest of the story.

In recent months, I’ve had the privilege (and luxury) of being able to spend time – on a fairly regular basis – with some of my nieces and nephews.  It’s always an adventure.

They don’t play video games.  They don’t use the computer.  They don’t watch many movies.  What do they do with their free time? you ask.

What free time?  They’re too busy playing.

They play board games.  They love card games.  I believe I’ve mentioned my Klein Bottle Bag?  I use it to store my finger puppets – and do I ever have finger puppets!  Those are a hit – several puppet shows have been staged, all with very entertaining results.  If all else fails, they use some Rapunzel Braids (crocheted strands of yarn – thus far unattached to any doll, sadly), tie one end around one of the Rapunzel dolls (or a puppet – they’re not picky) and go “Rapunzel fishing.”

That’s only a small sample of what happens when their imaginations get loose.  Would you like another?  No? Why not?  It’s really interesting, promise.

What?  Oh, all right.  If you insist.

Have you ever heard the nursery rhyme called “Three Little Ghosteses”?

Good.  I’m not the only one.

I’m not entirely sure on the spelling, but it goes something like:

Three Little Ghosteses

Sitting on posteses

Eating buttered toasteses

Greasing their fisteses

Up to their wristeses

Oh, what beasteses

To make such feasteses

One player (determined by the child responsible for choosing the game, generally) goes to a prearranged spot and recites the poem.  Everyone else has to hide (with a beach ball) in the time it takes for the player to recite the rhyme and return.  From here on out, it’s a lot like Hide and Seek, except that the goal isn’t just to hide – you need to hide somewhere so that you can throw the beach ball at the seeker before he finds you.

Not excited yet?  It gets better.  I’ll tell all about the spies in my next post.

Be careful what you wish for; you might just get it.

Life decided to take me up on my plea for help a few weeks ago.  I honestly thought I’d be able to sit down sometime that week and churn out the rest of my short story.  I truly believed the words would just keep coming, and I’d have a short story done in record time.  I was wrong.

Well, it’s probably not too late for finishing it in record time – but it’s just a tad overdue for one-week goal.

Of course, it doesn’t help that I’m trying an experiment with all of this.  I’m trying to sharpen my writing skills, and begged invited some of my family to help me.  I’m writing this story in Google Documents.  This is such a clever process (in my humble opinion) that I’m surprised I didn’t think of it before.  I have my master copy, there’s a copy that everyone can access, and everyone also has their own personal copy – all in Google Docs.  I scribble play write in my personal copy.  When a section (they’re not really chapters, as this isn’t supposed to be a novel or anything – it’s supposed to going to be a short story, after all!) is finished to my liking, I copy and paste it into the general copy.  Everyone can see that I’ve made a change, and can copy and paste the new words into their personal copies – which only I have access to, aside from the particular reader.  The reader is then free to comment at will, and I am (relatively) secure in the knowledge that they won’t be influenced by each other’s comments.  (There’s always the possibility that they can look at each other’s documents, but I’m fine with that as long as they only look over the parts they’ve each read and commented on….)

Of course, this has a slight downside.  Google Docs shows when someone last modified the document, regardless of the change.  This means that everyone can see when I add to the story, yes, but it also causes much weeping and distress if they find that I only fixed a typo.

Right, Family?  There is much distress and devastation when you find that I unthinkingly fixed a typo, not adding the rest of the story like you hoped?  (If you disagree, I’m taking you off the Google Docs list.)

(Just kidding.  😛 )

In my defense, I have been rather busy these last few weeks.  I began working at a new job at about the time I started working on this story.  I have Many Important Chores to do, much Exhaustive (if Rarely Performed) Cleaning to accomplish, Libraries to keep in touch with….  It’s a never-ending list.  In fact, if it doesn’t lighten up soon, I may have to take drastic measures.

I may have to declare a book ban.

You’ve never heard of a book ban?  What is it? you ask?  I’ll tell you.  It’s simple, really.  I ban myself from books.  Yes, I know it’s hard to believe – but I’ve survived one so far.  About a year ago, actually.  It was very… enlightening.  In a less-procrastinative sort of way.  Wouldn’t want to do it for very long, of course.  But it is possible.  I promise.

Oh, in recent news – very recent, in fact – I updated my author pages to include Christopher Stasheff.  I can’t believe I forgot about him for so long.  If you like reading about medieval times in alternate universes, this is the author for you!  I hope you find his books as magical as I did – he’s an absolute wizard in writing!

One last thing.  It snowed today, in my Dry State.  It’s just about melted by now, but it was really pretty while it lasted.  I wished I had my camera with me – the trees and bushes were beautiful.  It looked like a Winter Wonderland.

Her pigtails are a little crooked, but that’s only appropriate for a representation of a 3-year-old – right?

Rather than tie each hair stand individually in place (like with 12-year-old Rapunzel), I used a yarn needle to pull several strands through at once, then tied them – very securely – in place with the blue yarn.  I didn’t think ahead very well, so the strands were too short to knot in place….  I might take these pigtails out and put new ones in – I don’t want them to come out – but I don’t think so.  I tied the blue yarn very tightly.  Unless someone tries (very hard) to pull the hair out, it’s not going to happen.  Hopefully….

Yup, just checked.  Those pigtails aren’t going anywhere!

Once again, I’m enjoying the eyebrows.