Category Archives: Diary

In Brief

Lovely party last night. Missed those who couldn’t make it, and those who I didn’t get to talk to for more than a fleeting moment. I think it went well. I am very bad at evaluating these things because I use my own experience as a yardstick, and I spend most of my time rushing around taking care of people, then suddenly it’s over and I don’t remember most of it beyond pouring drinks and passing hors d’oeuvres.

That vaguely ill feeling I’ve been having for a week finally handed me its calling card last night. I am now the not-so-proud owner of the flu. Or rather, I seem to be waving goodbye to it; perhaps this morning’s horrors were its last gasp. I’m currently in the throes of the oh-ye-gods-I’m-starving-but-don’t-dare-eat-anything-other-than-a-few-soda-crackers stage of the excitement. It’s nice to feel positive about food again after a week of caring nothing for it (a particularly horrible experience around the holidays in our house, all the more poignant if you know anything about my mother’s holiday baking).

Apart from the sick bit, this holiday week has been a good one. It’s been nice not working, although I’m just as exhausted in a different way. There have been a couple of work queries, one a very interesting invitation from a large self-publishing corp looking for editors, that I will address in January. Well, except for the downstairs neighbour verbally abusing the boy this morning; that was not so much fun. It will be dealt with. But we used book gift cards a few days ago and came home with things for everyone to read, saw The Golden Compass and had a lovely lunch out on Friday (sans boy, of course — Not A Kids’ Movie), and checked out some sales. The tailored red wool winter coat I have been privately coveting was a hundred dollars off, but no longer available in my size, so that was the end of that. A good week in general, yes.

Two more weeks and we’ll know if HRH has the permanent position at the college. My advance payment for the hearthcraft book should arrive around that time tool. And I’m actually chipper about getting back to the writing of the hearthcraft book after the hiatus while I finished the edits on the YA submission. I don’t think I’ve ever looked forward to an early January this much.

Family, Food, And Friends

I’m taking a quick moment to wish everyone a peaceful, prosperous, successful, and rewarding 2008.

I hurt all over, but there was a damn fine turkey yesterday, and joy and laughter had by all. The gifting was a blur thanks to the enthusiastic two and a half year old who opened everyone’s presents with them and then joyfully pushed the next ones on them. “Oh! What inside?” he kept saying, running with gift bags and wrapped boxes to their designated giftees. Last night after the boy was in bed, both sets of grandparents had left, and the kitchen was clean, I realized that I couldn’t remember more than one or two things I’d opened. Sitting down and sorting through it all again was like opening new presents. I discovered that it was mostly clothes and chocolate; this year was unusually short on books and music, which left me kind of drifting aimlessly today, when I usually settle down with one of a stack of new books to read and the new CDs playing. I got gift cards for both, though, so the enjoyment is only delayed. (I’ve already read Nigella Express, the only book I got yesterday, from cover to cover, and the copy of The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe score that Blade gave me has been in the player since I opened it.)

Santa came through and brought Liam his wished-for trains and train-related equipment. Way to go, Santa.

For me, Christmas is a time dedicated to family, food, and friends, and we are blessed by having all those things in abundance. Yesterday was an excellent example of all of these, including a surprise visit from Karine and family. We’re thankful for the innumerable blessings we are fortunate to experience within our lives. I wish the same for all of you: lives that are touched by peace and love. Be well, be safe, and cherish one another.

Yule

Solstice was lovely, except for the nap-related hiccough in the middle of Saturday. Friday night we did a mini-ritual with Liam, talking about how it was the longest night of the year, so we would use the candle to help the sun find its way back through the dark. He tried to blow out the candle. Perhaps I reinforced the birthday candle-extinguishing a bit too much.

We also gave him his ornament to hang on the tree, which in retrospect was a mistake. I’d chosen a Lightning McQueen ornament, and he certainly loved it. He loved it so much that he cried to hold it and play with it once it was up, despite being reminded that he had other McQueen cars among his toys.

After he was in bed, HRH and I ordered sushi from a new place (and will do so again and again and again, it was excellent!) and decorated the tree. By the end of the evening we knew we’d created a new tradition: decorate the tree Solstice eve, with sushi afterwards. The moment we get the 2008 calendar, it will be written in.

The boy got up the next morning and gasped and clapped at the tree, saying “It so pretty!”. Then we went out and did a humongous grocery order. Usually HRH and I hate grocery shopping because of all the oblivious people, but this experience was calm, relaxed, and even fun. Everyone around us seemed to be in a good mood for once. Not counting the pennies as we filled the basket was certainly a factor as well.

Once home, we put everything away and made lunch for Liam… who caught sight of his ornament on the tree and had a fit when we told him yet again that he couldn’t play with it. We struggled with the crying and thrashing until he calmed enough to read pre-nap books, but then he cried again when I left the room. This left us an hour behind schedule, as I had a main dish to make for our co-coven Yule gathering that afternoon, and we realised that the boy’s monitor was unplugged in his room, so we needed to wait till he was asleep to slip in and switch it on. We ended up joining the others upstairs forty-five minutes late, which wasn’t as bad as we’d feared because someone else was later than we were due to work issues. (Doing the math, that means the boy’s nap happened two hours late.) (And yes, we took the ornament off the tree and put it away. Out of sight, out of mind. The poor kid’s two and a half; leaving it there was cruel.)

We had a nice, relaxed, and cosy Yule gathering. The cookie and gift exchange was fun, and the food was terrific. The boy joined us around four and had his own present to open, drank tea, played cars on the floor with a very willing victim, was gentle with the cats, and said thank you a lot. The Yule ritual was simple and warming, and I’m sharing the central quote that was used. It’s from the tenth and final section of T.S. Eliot’s Choruses from ‘The Rock’.

O Light Invisible we praise Thee!
Too bright for mortal vision.
O Greater Light, we praise Thee for the less;
The eastern light our spires touch at morning.
The light that slants upon our western doors at evening,
The twilight on silent pools at batflight,
Moonlight and starlight, owl and moth light;
O Light Invisible, we worship Thee!

We thank Thee for the lights that we have kindled,
The light of altar and sanctuary;
Small lights of those who meditate at night,
And lights directed through coloured panes of windows,
And light reflected from the polished stone,
The gilded carven wood, the coloured fresco.
Our gaze is submarine, our eyes look upward
And see the light that fractures through unquiet water.
We see the light but see not whence it comes.
O Light Invisible, we glorify Thee!

Later in the poem there’s another set of lines that I think are also important.

And when we have built an altar to the Invisible Light, we may set thereon the little lights for which our bodily vision is made.
And we thank Thee that darkness reminds us of light.

Eliot is one of my favourite poets. It’s always a treat to unexpectedly hear his words.

HRH and the boy are out back shifting snow in the backyard. The plan is for HRH to clear a place for Liam to play, which was impossible as there was a metre of snow from fence to fence. Liam, however, waved cheerily at me and said, “Bye, Mama! I going to build a castle!”

When they come in, there will be Solstice stockings to open with the upstairs neighbours, and brunch. Then I’m heading out to pick up two or three last-minute things (why can we not find Liam’s stocking anywhere?), and HRH is taking his turn out while the boy naps, to get a variety of frozen nibbly things at M&Ms and drinkables at the liquor store.

And then, I think we will be set, apart from a complete house-cleaning on Monday morning. Then my parents arrive in town, and the next stage of the seasonal festivities begin.

Foiled!

We dropped the boy off at his grandma’s, picked up coffee, fueled up the car, and we were off.

Bank, to deposit cheques and other wondrous and unexpected amounts of money that showed up last night; post office, to mail off a parcel; a quick stop in to the pharmacy; and then we were off to the book store.

Piles of books, mostly for others, one or two tucked into the stack for ourselves. A train turntable for Liam. An unexpected and wonderful meeting with Jteethy, Pasley, and Tallis.

Home. HRH goes off to his work holiday party. I set out to wrap all the gifts.

Do we have paper? Check.

Do we have ribbon, and bows? Check.

Do we have tags?

Er, no.

We have blank white stickers, though. I could find a little stamp and stamp an image on them and write people’s names next to it. Or better still, I could find the linen paper I have somewhere and tear it artfully into rectangle-ish shapes and punch a hole in the corner and string then onto the gifts with ribbon!

I locate the little unused stamp set that’s been hiding in various stationary boxes for over ten years. I finally locate the linen paper… which has all of two sheets left. It’s enough.

No stamp pads.

That’s all right; I have a whole set of stamp ink felt pens, which are used to colour the stamps! I know exactly where they are; they are in my wooden art box!

… which is nowhere to be found.

I give up. After chasing various things around for an hour and a half, things are wrapped, and currently tagged with sticky notes. HRH is coming home around three, and we’re going back out to our second round of shopping before collecting the boy; I’ll pick tags up while we’re out.

Hope: ‘a desire with an expectation of accomplishment’

It may come as a surprise to learn that I have never submitted unsolicited writing before today. I’ve always sold partials for my non-fiction, the idea for a book based on a detailed outline, sell sheet, and writing samples.

I mailed off my first YA novel this morning. I wanted it out of my hands before Christmas, even though it will be stuck in the mail over next week and then will likely sit on an editor’s desk unopened until early January. I printed it out on Wednesday in twenty-page increments, watching it to make sure it didn’t go haywire somewhere along the way. The cover letter was finished and as good as I could get it. I checked and double-checked the submission guidelines and squared it all neatly, slipping an elastic band around the inch-high stack of paper.

This morning I bought a padded envelope, slipped it all in, addressed it, and mailed it off. Twelve dollars’ worth of postage. One customs form: just paper of no monetary value, only immense sentimental value. Also, lots of hope. It’s a good thing hope doesn’t weigh very much. Here is your tracking number, good only until the envelope itself is delivered, no further for the manuscript itself as it makes it way through various piles on various desks. The SASE must make do for the beginning of that journey, and beyond this, darkness and the unknown.

I’ve mailed proofs and manuscripts back and forth with my NF publisher before, so a lot of this was mechanical. Nonetheless, I was almost paralysed with anxiety as I wrote the sender’s and recipient’s addresses, despite knowing that the things I was worrying about — presentation, am I doing things the right way, can ‘send cover letter with plot synopsis’ be any more vague? — didn’t really matter as much as I felt they did. What matters is the writing. And still, as I was sealing the envelope I was thinking, It’s not too late to take it home and shred it because it is awkward and clumsy and dull in places and I think my message is too pedantic and did I mention clumsy?

But I didn’t. Nothing ventured, nothing gained. I made a promise to myself this past January that I would get this novel out, come what may. And I did.

I like that the first day of its journey takes place on the day of the longest night. From here, it only gets brighter. A nice symbolism, I think, and completely unplanned. Consciously, at least.

And so it is gone. Have a safe journey, little YA novel. And a successful one.

Grateful

That outstanding cheque?

It arrived in this morning’s mail.

It is astonishing, and also somewhat sad, that I feel so much less stressed about life in general now. Even after making a day-by-day schedule with HRH last night that shoves everything we need to do before our Yule observation and Christmas into Friday. (Perhaps the lack of associated schedule-stress is related to the fact that Blade brought down a bottle of Talisker to share not long after we made the schedule and began watching The Nightmare Before Christmas last night. It was a good night indeed.)

Following Up

The liquid brine was a success, but in a very different way than the dry-brining is. I’m going to adjust the recipe for less sugar and more salt.

The tree has settled into shape, and it’s lovely and full and the branches are remarkably well-angled up and away from the floor. Even the weight of our ornaments won’t pull them down, I think. It’s still undecorated; HRH and I will start it tonight, barring unforeseen circumstances. The boy keeps asking if we can bring it with us when we go out.

Christmas is next Tuesday. Ack! Even more of a surprise: Solstice is this Saturday. Ack to the power of two! Where did December go?