Author Archives: Autumn

Not Normal

So just when I think I’m ahead on this work thing, an emergency arises on the project I worked on last spring. Guess what I’m doing for the next eighteen hours? Good thing I’m well along on the other project and it’s only due next Tuesday. Also good that I got a lot of sleep last night. Not as good: the fact that I have been downing Excedrin Extra Strength With Codeine for a persistent headache.

But that is not why I am posting! I am posting to share this:

SPARKY: Bye bye, Leo eating cricket bugs!

[Leo is a leopard-patterned fat-tail gecko who lives with the caregiver. He dines upon crickets. The boy says goodbye to him every day before he leaves.]

HRH: Um. How many words was that?

CAREGIVER: [counts] Six.

[There is a pause.]

CAREGIVER: He’s not normal. I love him, but he is not normal.

Is Alive

Happiest of birthdays to Kino Kid and to Scarlet!

I’m not dead; I’ve just been working a lot. And reading a surprising amount, actually (two books this weekend apart from That Book, although I have no clue how that happened… I think I somehow bent time). And there has been a very welcome amount of sleep as well. And making of lasagna, and a chocolate layer cake, and the like.

As you were.

Wistful

I find myself wishing that the boy was just a year or so older, so that we could creep into his room around ten o’clock on Friday night, wake him up, and whisper to him that we were going out for a midnight adventure to the bookstore. This is the last Potter book, and I’ve never attended a midnight launch party for various reasons. I’m a bit wistful; this particular event will never happen again. Liam would love this sort of thing, with people in costume, and music, and really just his favourite bookstore at midnight would be enough to be the coolest thing ever for him.

I would even let him bring his broom, to which he can say “Up!”. He could meet Fearsclave, and Cymry, and Meallanmouse, and whoever else will be there of our acquaintance. His sleep schedule would be off for a couple of days, but I think it would have been worth it. But he is not a couple of years older, and so, alas, it will not happen. And I’m more wistful on his account than my own. (Because let’s be realistic, the reason I’ve never gone to a midnight launch is because I’m paralyzingly shy, as well as mildly enochlophobic and agoraphobic [in the true sense of the word].)

Ah, well. We will go out to our local bookstore together on Saturday morning and get a copy of book seven. I intend to drop off a treat or something for the employees on shift, too, probably mini cinnamon rolls from the Saint-Cinnamon counter or a bag of Ghirardelli chocolate. Their day is going to be mildly insane, and I so appreciate them; they’re always cheerful and smiling and they never brush me off or pressure me when we browse. And having worked events in bookstores I know that things can start to grate, and one feels as if one has become somewhat invisible or non-human to the attendees. So kudos and thanks in advance to all bookshop employees; hang in there Friday night and over the weekend. You are all stars.

Love

This morning we were getting Sparky ready to head over to his caregiver’s place as usual. Every day he chooses a beloved toy to take with him, usually just something to snuggle with when he goes down for his nap, but sometimes he wants a car or a train to play with during the ride too. Today he had two engines for car play, one in each hand, and I had him up on my hip in preparation for carrying him down to the car. (Yes, of course he can get down the stairs and walk to the car himself, but he is also two, and there is an entire exciting world of grass and trees and flowers and dirt and spiders between the door and the vehicle, and a schedule that must be kept.)

A: Who do you want to take with you today? Buzz? Bun-Bun?

BOY: Take Mama.

He patted my shoulder and I held him pretty tightly, thinking about how much I love this kid. He waved and blew me kisses as he and HRH drove away, and I was still choked up.

He came home with us two years and five days ago, the day after my birthday. That night the Preston-LeBlancs brought us excellent take-away Szechwan and a whole delicious bakery chocolate cake, and we all sat in the living room and marveled at him and at how precious life is.

I am thankful for family, chosen and otherwise, and the miracle of children, and for the opportunity to watch my son grow and learn and laugh and run, and love.

Sigh…

Just sent in the first part of the project, and I’m all wibbly because I don’t think it’s as reduced as they hoped it would be. The problem is these characters talk to one another a lot — the dialogue is kind of the point of playing, as in many social simulation games. It’s been incredibly difficult to rewrite the dialogue so that it says the same thing in fewer words, while keeping the age of the characters and the age of the audience in mind. I effectively lost the last two days of work too, because there was a miscommunication between us and I’d been cutting out entire useless scenes, only to discover two days later that everything had to remain intact: there had to be the exact same number of lines in the final product. So Friday, yesterday, and today were spent restoring and rewriting those deleted scenes to use the fewest possible words.

Argh.

If I could have deleted scenes that don’t affect the action, I could have reduced the script by a fifth! They would have loved it!

Now I shall mope until I hear back from the client. And maybe eat lunch, as I’ve been working since five this morning to meet this deadline, with only a pancake and a cup of tea to keep me going.

[LATER: Yup. They’re disappointed. My hands are tied! Tell me I can delete entire lines — nay, entire unnecessary scenes! — and it will work!]

Excellent ritual last night, lovely and grounding and introspective (which is what we all needed). It ended up coming to me remarkably easily in plenty of time, thank goodness. An excellent meeting all in all, actually. I’m excited about studying something again, which is nice. It’s draining to constantly provide something for others to do, and for everyone’s good intentions about holding workshops or presenting research it rarely seems to actually happen. It’s a relief to have a topic to cover the next few months’ worth of meetings, and a topic I can learn about too.