Category Archives: Diary

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.

Dear Cats

If you’re going to crowd into the bathroom with me while I scrub it, you could at least grab a cloth or a scrub brush and help instead of just watching or getting in the way.

Love,
Me.

Good Night, Emru

Just before 22h00, not long after many of us had focused on sending healing and peaceful energy to be used in whatever way was best at this point, Emru passed away.

I was tight and angry and lashing out at everything yesterday, so HRH captained our ritual. And he opened with a plea to the gods for peace in whatever form was best that made all my anger burn into tears. He named Emru a son, a brother, a father, a husband, a friend, a leader, a teacher, a communicator, a warrior, and by any name a good man. He was all that, and more.

Good night, Emru. Thank you for everything you did for us. Even in your illness you found the good, and turned it into an opportunity to educate and benefit others. You encouraged us all to be better people, and you will be sadly, sadly missed.

The fight continues.

From the very start Emru and his sister Tamu have turned this situation into a drive to raise awareness and teach people about bone marrow transplants and encourage people to list themselves on their country’s bone marrow registry. Cultural minorities in North America (and indeed, worldwide) are particularly under-represented on these registries, a fact that the Townsend siblings have targeted as their main focus.

Emru is only one of millions of people who needs bone marrow transplants to deal with a variety of illnesses and conditions. The most important issue at the moment is that we continue to educate, myth-bust, and spread information about the importance of adding your name to the bone marrow registry of your country. Emru is only one man; there are thousands and thousands of people out there who still need a bone marrow transplant to save their lives. Keep the HealEmru.com link circulating; keep mentioning it to everyone you meet. The majority of racial groups are still under-represented, and that’s not going to change overnight.

Emru’s been blogging his journey and treatment, and it makes for sober but enlightening reading. I am proud of all my friends for a variety of reasons, but Emru and Tamu Townsend are stars. They have tirelessly worked for this cause and given so much of themselves. The campaign may be called Heal Emru, but Emru’s name stands for every single individual who is struggling with an illness and needs a donor for stem cells, bone marrow, or peripheral cell transplant.

The HEal Emru FAQs answer some of the common questions people have about bone marrow donation.
The Heal Emru site lists contact information for registries around the world.

Prayer and good thoughts while Emru has his surgery today are good things (likewise during the recovery period while the transplant settles). Apart from this, the easiest thing you can do is walk up to someone and say, “Hey, have you heard about your country’s bone marrow registry?”

Are you a match? Find out how you can help save Emru’s life: http://www.healemru.com

Got Facebook? Please join Help Emru Find a Bone Marrow Donor and if you learn something new, invite your friends.
Got Livejournal, WordPress or Blogger? Blog it!
Got Youtube? Subscribe to www.youtube.com/healemru
Just find someone you care about and tell them.

Contact info:

Hema Quebec http://www.hema-quebec.qc.ca
Canada Blood Services (Canada, except Quebec) http://onematch.ca/registry
National Marrow Donor Program (US) http://www.marrow.org

Orchestrated Update

Orchestrated:
New words today: 2,007
Total word count, Orchestrated: 38,150

Oh. Look at that. One of the major plot points just happened. Was not expecting that, but the timing was right, so.

At the risk of repeating myself, it felt good to focus. Of course, yesterday I did it in a two-hour window. Today it took six hours of dragging around and making false starts before finally looking at the clock and saying to myself, Damn it, I want to get *something* done before the boys get home.

So of course it involved frantic research as soon as I realized the plot point was happening before I’d consciously expected it to, and I needed the character to deliver medical info to the protagonist. Yay for HRH handling the bath tonight.

Now I have to go read to the boy. Goodbye, internets. Be good over the weekend.

Friday!

Not that my weeks are such that Fridays are any better or worse than the other days, but old habits die hard.

Cello lesson went well. I’m definitely getting a handle on the bow hold, and on how the weight of the bow arm evolves as the bow is drawn across the string in order to maintain an even sound with the same power at the tip as at the frog. Now we’re finessing the elbow leading thing, and left-hand finger movement within the same position as well as properly shifting from first (and second and third and fourth) to fifth. (Because of the body of the cello being in the way, you see. Here is a classic example of How Things Will Be Easier With A 7/8.) And either my teacher is being extremely enthusiastic in order to be encouraging and supportive, or I’m genuinely making progress. I’ll assume the latter and be happy, as there have only been three lessons so far.

There was no traffic on the way home. None. Zero. Either there was some sort of holiday I’m unaware of, or everything was just going right. I ended up not taking the 13 sud, as when I took it north at 3:30 the lines to access the 13 from the 40 est were backed up halfway to blvd. des Sources, and it would only get worse as rush hour progressed. I ended up taking des Sources sud to the 20 and there wasn’t even a slowdown where the 13 sud joins it. Mysterious.

The barbecue pulled pork was a huge success last night, so huge that I would seriously be considering doing it again tonight if it wasn’t pizza night. And I love my homemade pizza with much love.

So overall it was as good a day as the previous Thursday had been horrible. Very nice indeed.

Today: More writing. What else? This is what work means. I’m taking a couple of weeks off from the freelance evaluation thing; I need to recover and get some serious progress made on my own stuff.

ETA: Spoke too soon; an assignment just landed in my inbox. It’s a second evaluation for a new draft of a manuscript I evaluated earlier this summer, and the first draft was decent, so it shouldn’t be too harrowing.