Alice sighed wearily. `I think you might do something better with the time,’ she said, `than waste it in asking riddles that have no answers.’

`If you knew Time as well as I do,’ said the Hatter, `you wouldn’t talk about wasting IT. It’s HIM.’

`I don’t know what you mean,’ said Alice.

`Of course you don’t!’ the Hatter said, tossing his head contemptuously. `I dare say you never even spoke to Time!’

`Perhaps not,’ Alice cautiously replied: `but I know I have to beat time when I learn music.’

`Ah! that accounts for it,’ said the Hatter. `He won’t stand beating. Now, if you only kept on good terms with him, he’d do almost anything you liked with the clock. For instance, suppose it were nine o’clock in the morning, just time to begin lessons: you’d only have to whisper a hint to Time, and round goes the clock in a twinkling! Half-past one, time for dinner!’
— Lewis Carroll, Alice in Wonderland

Rebelbelle at Open Diary commented on a bumper sticker about killing time, and mused about why anyone would wish to do such a thing, and I had to smile, both because I agree so strongly with the sentiment, and because it reminded me of Alice’s remarks at a famous tea party.

We seem to treat Time as our adversary, we fight it, race against it, beat it, and kill it – instead of embracing it. It takes a minute to play a certain Waltz, about ten to boil water, twenty to bake a cornbread in a cast-iron skillet (not including prep-time), an hour to wash a load of laundry, a day for paint to dry, and 70-90 years to experience a life.

Why not embrace time. In that minute, lose yourself in the music. While waiting for the kettle to boil or the coffee to brew, spend a moment playing with your dog, or smooching your significant other. While the laundry is spinning around in circles, take a walk, or read a book, but don’t think of any of these things as killing time, but celebrating it.

We are given a collection of moments, all strung together to form a somewhat coherent whole. Shouldn’t we attempt to find the treasures in every day things, in the small spaces of time while we’re waiting for other stuff to happen, rather than searching for a stretch of time that we perceive is long enough in which to accomplish something worthwhile?

An exercise from Write a Book Now!

The instructions, paraphrased:Take the three words assigned in an exercise, and write for five minutes. You can change the tenses, or forms of the words, but all three must be used. The first word must be used to start your piece. It must be fiction. It cannot be in first person.

UNEDITED WRITING EXERCISE: Words: fire, clock, certainty

Fire filled her dreams – images of flame and smoke doing little to mask the screaming of people desperately fleeing for their lives as the apartment building burned to the ground. In sleep, she raced down the stairs from the seventh floor, her little sister dragged along behind her like a ragdoll, until the final flight, when the smaller girl had tripped. She’d fallen too, but the pain of the impact in her dream woke her, and as she rubbed her knee, she stared at the clock, noting the time – three AM. She’d managed two and a half hours of sleep since the last nightmare. This time, though, she
did not go back to sleep, instead, lying in the darkness clutching the
notebook she’d insisted upon going back to their apartment to retrieve. It wasn’t the pain that caused her nightmares, nor the loss of her home and belongings, but the certainty that her little sister’s death was her fault.

Originally written 7 May 2005.

Note: it may technically be Friday, but fiscally, it’s still Thursday night.

Onesome: Are–Are you planning on heading out this Memorial Day? …or is it a ‘stay at home and chill’ kind of holiday for you?
We’d considered heading up to Fuzzy’s sister’s place in Iowa, to see everyone, but they’re leaving for Europe a week later, and the last thing they really need is MORE people. So we’re rescheduling. Most likely, we’ll go to the last weekend of Scarborough Faire.

Twosome: we– ….and who is “we” when you go traveling? Any preferences that you can state here in blogland ?
Generally, just me and Fuzzy. While I like meeting people at destinations, I don’t like having to stick to other people’s schedules. As for preferences, I detest road trips. Flying may be uncivilized, but it’s FAST. I wish we could bring the dogs with us more, at least on overnights, as I hate going to bed without them.

Threesome: there yet?– …and when you get there, what are you going to do? …or if you’re staying in, what’s on the menu? Are you cooking out or just opening a can of tuna?
I like picnics at the beach, but other than that? Find me a restaurant with table service, please. Or let me just cook at home, with my frou-frou professional-grade appliances. If we don’t go to Faire, we’ll probably putter around the house, do some gardening and see some movies.

This meme can be found here.

At first,
I thought it was a crumpled leaf,
Grey and still
Resting under the patio table,
Waiting for the next breath of wind
To carry it on its way.
But then the dog barked,
And her hind legs pawed at the ground
As if she was preparing for a chase,
(Which, I suppose, she was)
And her black nose was all a-quiver,
As she strained against the verbal leash called “Stay.”
A closer look revealed
That my ‘leaf’ was breathing,
And had glistening eyes.

Click for larger image

Marianne Moore said, “Poetry is the art of creating imaginary gardens with real toads.”

I wonder if it works in reverse.

(Translation: This guy was hiding-in-plain-sight under my picnic table at about midnight last night/this morning.)

It has become an evening ritual to watch the gecko scaling the back wall of my house, and then go inside and enjoy a steaming mug of tea. This week I am drinking Tazo “Calm” in the evenings, and reliving the relaxation that chamomile affords. Last week I bought a sketch book, not to sketch in, but to write poetry in, because poetry is too organic for the keyboard, and seems to flow better when scribbled in ink on textured paper. I’m at a point, with writing, where I’m scaling a vertical wall, but unlike my friend the gecko, I don’t have sticky feet and pointy claws to keep me secure while I move upward. It hurts to write, it hurts not to write, and yet, I’m terrified by things I’m stirring up from the depths of the cauldron of my mind – half memory and half imagination.

I wonder if it is really failure that terrifies me, or if it is actually success that I fear.

Clay did NOT force me to do this. But I stole the meme from him.

1) Total number of books I’ve owned? I started reading when I was four, and had been collecting books since before then, and I turn 35 in three and a half months, so you do the math. Seriously, I’m a former MS Read-a-thon-er, and total book addict. I did once give my (at the time) mostly-complete collection of Star Trek books to my brother-in-law, but then I started reading TrekFic again, and am once more collecting them. If you’ve seen my reading lists or my book blog, then you can guess at the total. If e-books count, add 10%.

2) The last book I bought?
Well, I just pre-ordered Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince, but other than that? I bought the complete works of Poe, a copy of Bulfinch’s Mythology, and a Dictionary of Phrase and Fable (all at the same time) about a week ago, the same day I bought a copy of Murder Ink on ebay. I didn’t time-stamp the purchases though.

3) The last book I read? I’m reading several at once, right now. The most recent book I’ve finished reading is the last in the TNG A Time To… series, A Time for War, A Time for Peace, by Keith R. A. DeCandido.

4) 5 books that mean a lot to me?
– The Earth Knows my Name, by Patricia Klindienst – the as-yet-unpublished book that my aunt is busily revising for her editor. She sent me the most recent draft on CD – it’s about immigrant gardens, and how gardening preserves culture, and everyone needs to go buy it next Spring when it’s available.

– Dakota: A Spiritual Geography, by Kathleen Norris – prairie culture explained. This totally saved my sanity when we lived in SoDak. I can’t say that often enough.

– Fletcher and Zenobia – a children’s book with illustrations by Edward Gorey. I love Edward Gorey. I had a copy of this when I was five, then lost it, and bought a first edition from a rare book seller a few years ago for $62.

– Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day, by Judith Viorst – possibly the only children’s book that is better than Winnie the Pooh, it also makes a great monologue. I know, I’ve done it.

– Little Women, by Louisa May Alcott – Because deep down, there’s a part of me that still wants to be Jo March. Well, maybe not so deep down.

5) Tag 5 people and have them fill this out on their journals.
If you’re moved to participate in this meme, hey, cool. If not, also cool. I’m not naming names because I don’t like ordering people around. No, really, I don’t. :)
Continue reading →

I say… And you think… ?

1. Android:: Data
2. Revenge:: is a dish best served cold.
3. Knight:: Forever
4. Stranded:: at the Drive-in
5. Weakness:: tears
6. Greed:: avarice
7. Walter:: Olivia
8. Dense:: cloud-cover
9. Sheep:: mutton
10. Propane:: tank

Like this meme? Play along here.

(I’m suddenly wondering how many of my blog-friends (from here, LJ, and OD) are answering “Data” to that first prompt. Not that any of us are geeks or anything.)

Click for larger image
* * * * *

After the rain stopped tonight, I wandered outside with Cleo, to make sure she didn’t fall in the pool again. (She didn’t.) When I turned around to come back inside, I saw this guy on the wall above the back porch light, and decided to snap his picture.

I think the laser tracking night framing feature of my camera scared him – and if that didn’t, the flash definitely did – but I got a couple of shots before he skittered away.

Click images for larger versions

Note: As this entry is over 1300 words long, most of it will be found in the extended entry.

Traditionally, on Mother’s Day, my blog focuses on my own mother, the woman we affectionately refer to as Hurricane Susan. Irrepressible, generous, witty, and often surprisingly
sensitive and vulnerable, she has been, at various times, my best friend, my worst enemy, my coach, my competitor, my confidante, and the person I least wish to speak to, all of which is – I think – pretty typical of mothers and daughters. Especially when those mothers and daughters are both type-a aggressive personalities.

I write about her a lot, though, because I work with her, and because we talk via phone or computer, almost every day. So, this Mother’s Day, I want to write about some of the other women in my life, some of whom aren’t even parents, but who have guided me nevertheless.
Continue reading →

I say… And you think…?

1. Texas:: don’t mess with
2. Scholarship:: fund
3. Runner-up:: contestant
4. Mustang Sally:: ride, Sally, ride
5. Jones:: Bridget
6. Hard to get:: playing
7. Jewish:: Bubbie
8. Crew:: J.
9. Cable:: net
10. Assistant:: life-saver

Like this meme? Play along here.