Category Archives: Food

The State of Autumn

In brief? Ungood.

Not that anything horrible has happened. In fact, taken individually, the events of the past week have ranged from acceptable to downright excellent. Good rehearsals, fabulous concert, wonderful group cello lesson, awesome guest lecture, kickass edits/rewrites handed in for the forthcoming book, decent handling of freelance assignment, good private cello lesson, phenomenal revelation concerning the non-fic music essay collection and subsequent deluge of wordage, unbelievably good buy of a new winter coat this morning plus the boy had his haircut and charmed folks in the bookstore afterward as usual. Lots and lots of stuff done.

No, it’s all those things piled on top of one another. One or two would have been fine. I’ve worked so much this past week that I’m very close to burnt out, and all the regular stuff was still going on too — groceries, laundry, tidying, meal-preparation, caring for small child when he’s home, and so forth. I ran out of patience and sense of humour three days ago and have been running on empty ever since. I’m irritable and snappish. The constant checking of what time I need to be where, with whom, and carrying what equipment and/or supplies has really gotten to me. I haven’t slept well a couple of nights. Between the cracks of sunlight there is mostly Doomful Gloom outside. I wrenched my back last Friday and it’s not getting better. HRH and I are out of town tonight and tomorrow in order to meet an online friend, and what was originally a cosy little gathering ballooned into a horde of strangers I don’t know, which isn’t helping my dangerously low energy levels and instinctive desire to find a small dark hole and cover my head with a duvet.

It’s odd to realise that the actual holidays are going to be less crammed with stuff than this past week has been. No wonder I’m exhausted.

I will share with you instead the Unbelievably Good Buy of the New Winter Coat this morning. HRH bought me a lovely fluffy periwinkle blue down-filled coat last Christmas and I adore it. But it’s just too much for pre-winter wearing and the warmer winter days. My black wool coat is seven years old and beyond brushing and dry cleaning now; it just never gets to the neat stage, let alone the polished stage. I fell in love with a horrendously expensive red wool coat last year and couldn’t afford it in my wildest dreams. I found something similar this year for a quarter of the price that fit beautifully, but I still didn’t feel that I could afford it at the time. Today it was supposed to be on sale at thirty percent off. When I took it to the cash it ended up being fifty percent off, so I walked away with a new tailored cut, double-breasted, knee-length, red wool coat with an empire waist (and black buttons!) for sixty dollars. I kid you not. Today, life loves me. I wish I loved it back the way it deserves.

I am currently baking the cake part of the Evil Chocolate Tortes for tonight’s feast. I do wish I was looking forward to this gathering more than my energy is allowing me to. I just feel mostly flatline-ish.

This Afternoon’s Writing

Here’s another update. Yeah, I wrote more on Orchestrated too, because it was there.

Orchestrated:
New words today: 1,551
Total word count, Orchestrated: 52,126

Harpsichord Dreams:
New words today: 1,026
Total word count, Harpsichord Dreams: 4,261

This update: 2,577

There was also a double batch of homemade macaroni and cheese made and a half hour of cello practised. I even pulled out the metronome.

I am very tired. But satisfied.

Got another evaluation assignment. If I had more copyedits to handle on my hearthcraft book I’d be panicking, but I don’t, so I’m not. Muah-hah.

Weekend Roundup

Things are moderately insane here, and there’s a lot of stuff that’s being shifted lower on the list of priorities. Bear with me if I owe you a reply about something via e-mail or a phone call or blog post or something. In the meantime here’s a very brief overview of the last three days for my own records.

Friday Ceri and Phnee came over for a long-anticipated day of writing/crocheting/knitting. I haven’t laughed that hard in ages. I somehow managed to get a thousandish words written, which mystifies me because I’m fairly certain I spent most of my time talking about books and yarn and spontaneously rewriting TMBG songs to be about knitting instead of Advil. And eating. Dear gods, the food. Not that we planned to eat piles of it, just that it was pretty steady. Phnee baked muffins ( “These are delicious,” I said. “They should be,” she said, “they’re your recipe.”) and brought biscuit dough to bake on-site. Ceri brought tea sandwiches for lunch, two kinds of preserves (OMG the carrot cake preserve that I wanted to eat with a spoon), and there was baguette and baked Brie with onion confit and pots and pots of tea. The only shadow upon the day was that Phnee’s laptop decided to turn its nose up at the perfectly good electricity here at the palace.

Friday night HRH and Jeff H. shared a rental van to bring the rest of the bunk bed pieces home and move our no-longer-being-used double dresser to chez Jeff and Airea. Saturday morning HRH and Liam built the bunk beds (and I’m not kidding, the boy actually did help move the mattress and the base through the hall and into his room, and helped screw things together) and there is now a pirate ship construction site lion cage tree house in Liam’s room. I felt like death on toast, so I kind of dragged myself around and stayed out of their way. Saturday afternoon I had a strings-only rehearsal so I dragged myself to that. Managed not to embarrass myself, despite not being wholly there in mind or body. Came home, had a hot bath, rested, reheated homemade pizza for dinner, and then once the boy was in bed we headed out for Emru’s visitation. One never knows what to expect regarding visitations or funerals, but any uncertainty was immediately dispelled as soon as we stepped into the memorial complex. There was upbeat music playing, and people laughing and chatting. The family we spoke with were all equally upbeat, and the whole event really was the celebration of Emru that it couldn’t help but be. He had been dressed in a beautiful white dashiki with exquisite white embroidery around the collar and down the yoke, and a lovely black and white woven cloth of African design was draped over the lower half of the casket. (Perhaps slightly irreverent thought: I’d forgotten how darn tall Emru was.) We met all sorts of people and ended up being among the last to leave. On the way home HRH and I talked about how we really didn’t know much about what the other wanted regarding death arrangements, and discovered that we pretty much intuited the basics anyhow. It’s something we need to think about properly, though, especially now that we have a child. (HRH, of course, isn’t difficult at all: there’s a pond, and there will be a glorious fire, and several days of drinking and loud music of various kinds. Most of us know this. Mine’s similar.)

Sunday I woke up feeling a bit less like death on toast. I mostly worked on the programme notes for the upcoming concert while HRH and the boy played in the construction site tree house. With this new bed the furniture has been rearranged a bit and his toys now live in the two drawers under the lower bunk, so we’ve eliminated the shelves that used to hold his toy bins. Now the room has a very play/activity feel to it, what with the multi-purpose upper bunk (which doesn’t have a mattress on it and will soon have a set of those interlocking foam pieces to make it a bit more comfy), the easel, and the craft table. He has decided that he should be listening to his music while he’s in there, so his CDs have been moved into his room. He’s been playing there instead of in the living room, which is great because it means HRH and I can now relax in the living room when we need to rather than being dragged into the boy’s play. Mid-morning we had our usual pancake brunch, then we went out to buy the boy a play tool set because he’d had so much fun helping HRH build the bed and move the pictures and shelf on his wall. I kept working on the programme notes, which I finally finished last night; I just need to translate them today. I made candles while the boys watched Toy Story and used up the last of my vegetable/soy wax; I’ll need more before Yule. After dinner we had a concert where the boy played the drum and HRH and I alternately got the little xylophone thing and the bells to play and I laughed so much that I cried.

In bed last night I finished Thornyhold (why have I not read this novel before? Oh, right, because I went through my Mary Stewart phase in late high school, before it had been written), read the first quarter of Snake Agent, and wrote a thousand words. It didn’t feel like I did a lot yesterday but apparently I did.

Today: Translating, and doing the first half of my next evaluation assignment. And hopefully some writing, because I’m feeling behind and I really don’t want to lose the momentum of the past two weeks.

Yes, I Worked…

Because if I don’t I get down on myself to do it I think I’m awful and it just perpetuates, making the next round of work even harder. I try to avoid making things harder than they need to be when it comes to getting myself to write. (How long did it take for me to learn this? I’m not completely sure I have learned it yet, to be honest. But at least I say it to myself a lot, which must count for something.)

Swan Sister:
New words today: 1,059
Total word count, Swan Sister: 35,252

I don’t know how long I’m going to be able to work on Swan Sister. The stuff I’ve outlined doesn’t have enough of the detail I need. More spadework before it’s properly ready, I guess. There’s two storylines, and the one I’ve been working on is the less-developed of the two; maybe when I switch to the other tomorrow, as I’d planned, things will be easier.

Orchestrated:
New words today: 2,154
Total word count, Orchestrated: 32,876

Yup. Took the protagonist’s reason for living away. She’ll survive, of course.

Today’s total: 3,213

… and one pot of burned soup. Yes, after blenderizing it and adding chicken stock and putting it on the lowest of low heats to simmer, I forgot to go back and stir the damn thing after I sat down to work on Orchestrated. So instead of a nicely mellowed soup, I have a thick brown burnt mess. And I just realized that House isn’t going to be on tonight because of the US election coverage. I was really, really looking forward to a night of TV.

Argh.

Oh Look, It’s Tuesday

I don’t want to keep these roasted vegetables for soup tonight. I want to eat them all right now.

Well, no. I’m not actually hungry. What I really want to do is sit and breathe in the fabulous smell of roasting vegetables all day.

I have just remembered that I don’t have a food processor. I can try to blenderize some of them, but I suspect that might not work too well.

Hrm.

Work? What work? I’ve done five loads of laundry and have baked bread, though. As well as chopped and roasted vegetables.

Cage Match Between Ongoing YA and Undead Swan Novels!

For some reason Swan Sister decided to drag itself out of the undead novel closet. This is not what I need. I’m trying to have Orchestrated finished by the end of the year so I can send queries out to agents. I do not need an undead swan novel battering at my brain.

Yeah, have fun with that imagery, zombie fans.

What I suspect my subconscious might be doing (other than attempting to sabotage me, but I’m so wise to that tactic by now) is offering me an alternate way to warm up. When I have two things to work on at once I can use A as an excuse to avoid work on B, and work in general gets done. (Or vice versa.) My overall productivity goes up.

What do I get at the end of all this? Well, theoretically I’m just aiming to have one novel complete. But Swan Sister is half-written and the second half of it does exist in plotted-out story cards. If using it to warm up for Orchestrated also manages to get it closer to being a complete first draft, that’s fine by me.

I found those twelve handwritten Swan Sister pages I scribbled out six months ago in the associated notebook, too. Haven’t transcribed them yet though. First of all, I’m saving it for when I need a gratifying word count boost, and second of all the bit I wrote hasn’t arrived in the plot yet, and I kind of want to bridge the characters from where they are now to where they need to be for the handwritten stuff to be added.

Finally, I had a candy-making day with Ceri this past Saturday (yes, because by the day after Halloween we obviously hadn’t been exposed to enough sugar) and she dropped three containers of the finished product off while we were grocery shopping yesterday. I have consumed more sugar today than I did all last month, which is saying something. Evidently I have zero self-control because I just keep wandering into the kitchen, popping open one of the containers, pulling a piece or two out and wandering back into my office.

Time to switch to the iBook in the living room. Or maybe I’ll try working in the reading chair here in my office. So long as it’s not the desktop I’m using, I think I’ll be okay. (Do not ask me why Orchestrated does not work on the desktop. I do not know. Keyboard? The Mac layout/design/screen? It’s a mystery. I’m not going to mess with the vibe.)

Life Is Good

Today is a beautiful, sunny, crisp fall day, and I had my first private cello lesson in ten years.

We addressed lots of things, which didn’t feel overwhelming at the time but as I’m processing it I’m thinking that wow, yes, it was a lot. Ringing tones, intonation and tonalization, bow grip, leading with the elbow (which is completely at odds with how I was originally taught, which was to lead from the wrist, but I can see how leading with the elbow opens the body up and can produce a more beautiful and precise sound, and she says she was first taught the wrist way as well so at least I’m in good company), exercises for the bow grip and how it’s supposed to pivot around the thumb as the bow moves from frog to tip and back, shifting exercises from first to second position… yes, it’s a lot. But these things all came up as we worked through a Schumann chorale piece, playing slow, long notes to really hear what was happening. I spent a lot of the lesson with my eyes closed or staring off at nothing while I tried to listen to the sound I was making and feel the way my hands and arms had begin repositioned so that I could do it again on my own. I felt muscles in my right arm that I didn’t know were used while bowing. I just hope I can remember how it feels.

She asked about what books and exercises I had, what I’d played before, and what I was interested in playing. I didn’t think at first to list the things I wanted to work on, but I didn’t need to because most of them came up in the course of the lesson! Ultimately what I’m looking for is how to better create a beautiful sound, something large and rich and, well, beautiful. So we’re going to go back to some of my first pieces and work on those, focusing on intonation and lovely sound, and start looking at the Rick Mooney books I bought this summer to help shifting and position work.

I am so happy to be doing something about this. And it’s affordable, and enjoyable, and good for me.

I realized at the end of the lesson that I’d spent an awful lot of the last fourteen years trying not to make a big sound, thanks to the scarring experience of having seniors banging on my floors and ceilings when I tried to practise at the very beginning. The Resident Fan Club will be happy to know that from now on I am not allowed to use a practise mute, nor pull the power I’m trying to channel through the bow. My teacher’s main room is tiled with lovely earth-toned ceramic tile and has a grand piano in it, so the sound echoes beautifully and it’s really easy to hear sympathetic strings vibrating when you play a ringing tone.

In other cello-related news, I have a lead on a semi-soft cello case that is exactly the one I loved so much that came with the Eastman 7/8 I tried this summer! The person selling it on Kijiji is being slow about returning my e-mails though, and I don’t want to lose this the way I’ve lost the last six tries to buy a secondhand iBook. I’m now waiting to hear when she can meet me so I can see/buy it. And last night’s orchestra rehearsal was very good too; we’re sounding a lot more precise and there are actual dynamics happening. We spend the first ten minutes doing exercises with a scale related to a piece we’re working on, using different bow techniques and strokes and so forth. The guest conductor is tailoring these exercises to something we’ll encounter in the music we’re working on that night. Very clever; keeps it all fresh in the mind. And as for the music, the Wagner’s off the programme and a Vivaldi concerto grosso is on.

Of course the postperson came while I was gone, so I missed a package. But there were cheques for work done waiting for me when I got home! I also did some banking, stopped by the library to pick up a reserve and found two other new acquisitions that I wanted to read as well, I put gas in the car, and did a small grocery pickup. My cello lessons are right by Fairview, and as I pulled away from my teacher’s house I thought, Is there anything I need at Fairview? Nah, and kept going… only to realize on the highway halfway home that yes, I had indeed needed to pick up something very specific at Fairview, and that I was an idiot because I even had it written on a list of things to do… that was safely inside my pocket where I couldn’t see it. Argh. Looks like I’m going to need an agenda again, something more portable than my lovely but big Daytimer binder I used to use when I was working outside the home. Maybe I’ll treat myself to a trip to the office supply shop on the way to collect the boy, to see what they have.

In the meantime, I am brining chicken. I am tempted to get some Brie and mushrooms so I can make those delicious chicken pastry things again, but HRH is leaving early tonight so I don’t think we’ll have time for that. The chicken will be just as lovely on its own.