The aqueduc truck just went by sounding the water-off alarm. There’s roadwork happening the next street over. I wonder how often this will happen; it’s the second time in two weeks.
The interview I did last week is up. Gwinevere says of me that “She is totally wise to the Wiccan ways, and I loved reading her books!”, which is very sweet of her and made me feel all warm inside.
I’m back to sequential nights of poor sleep. Last night HRH woke me up by saying “What was that?” after a loud sound on the back steps around twelve-thirty, and that was it; I was up for the next four hours. I reread most of the first Harry Dresden book while awake in the wee smas of Saturday night, and last night I got a third of Busman’s Honeymoon read. (How on earth was this book ever done as a play?). I read Shannon Hale’s latest paperback Princess Academy last Friday and was mildly disappointed that it wasn’t as rich as her Bayern books; it felt less deep, and I wasn’t as drawn into the characters or the style of the storytelling. I’m less intrigued now about her newest books Book of a Thousand Days and Austenland.
We had a lovely visit with the ADZO household Saturday afternoon where Liam had his first experience with a wagon and adored it enthusiastically, as I suspected he would: he pushed it, pulled it, and talked about riding in it the whole time we pulled him along. Thumbs up, Self, for the suggestion of a wagon as birthday gift to the grandparent contingent. (Pats self on the back.) Sunday afternoon was coven, and we roughly outlined stuff we’d like to do over the next few months and how we’d like to approach it, as well as roughing out the Midsummer ritual at the end of the month. Unfortunately HRH scheduled the meeting to begin right at the end of Liam’s nap time, so he spent most of his time chasing after the boy. This is what frustrates me about daytime coven meets: we constantly lose one person to childcare. Fortunately as it is now summer we are shifting to Monday evening meetings, because so much happens over the weekends that it gets nigh-impossible to schedule everyone on a weekend afternoon, so the boy will be in bed. Much easier to have everyone participate when one of us isn’t fielding/entertaining a toddler.
I made brownies Saturday morning from a new UK recipe (Nigella, natch), which meant I got to use my little scale as well as my funky measuring glass with the different weight measurements for various ingredients on the side. I used dark Tolberone for the chocolate. Divine. Very buttery, though. Liam called them “magic”, which was hugely amusing.
Three-word sentences are becoming the norm where Sparky is concerned. It’s mildly astonishing every time he produces one.
The Jam Sessions release date seems to have been pushed back to September. I am irked. I played through the first chapter of Phoenix Wright last evening and enjoyed it immensely.
And now, I go to clean my office window. On grey days such as this, one needs to maximise the amount of light coming in at all costs. Also, where is the rain? We were promised a downpour. Perhaps HRH jinxed it by saying, “See you in a couple of hours!” as he pulled out of the driveway this morning. I was kind of looking forward to going to the party store later with him to look at candles and such for a certain birthday cake, and maybe a new large sheet cake tin and a cake board. (Things I will never do: make a 3D owl cake. Yikes. How do you serve something like that?)
I just spent half an hour moaning for various reasons at Ceri, who gave me pats and made me laugh. She also gave me the thumbs-up for my interview when I asked her to read it, having reached the unrewarding poking-at-it-with-a-sharp-stick stage where I couldn’t see if it was making sense or not. So now it’s off to the editor of the e-zine.
Today I’m working on a set of interview questions, and as always when I do something like this I’m staring at the screen and wondering what on earth to say in response to questions I’ve answered elsewhere, or how to encapsulate huge philosophical rambles in a paragraph or two. And to my amusement I just found this in an online horoscope today:
I have officially Arrived. Words from a book I wrote have been appropriated and implied to be original on someone’s Myspace page.
… and yikes, do I ever need to work on some of the orchestra stuff. Once again, it’s the Broadway medley giving me grief. I know how the Les Miserables themes go, backwards and forwards. Maybe that’s part of the problem; this is an arrangement, and so it’s not exactly what I remember. Also, key changes from A flat major to F major to E flat major to B flat major to D flat major (probably B flat minor, now that I think about it) back to B flat major to D major to F major again to finally return to and end in A flat major are more than enough to reduce me to a desperate wittering fool. Particularly when it all has to be played in a sprightly, dissonant, or expressive mode.
9:07:
My review of the Tarot of Jane Austen Kit is currently 1,075 words. (Two and a half pages, single-spaced — argh!) This is, erm, unacceptable, as my target range is between 300 and 500 words.