From Spilled Lemonade To Revisions

Welcome to my random:

* It is very, very hard to sit still when one hears, “Oh, no…Get a towel!” It is even harder to sit still and listen to the kids cleaning up a mess they’ve made and hoping I haven’t heard. So much of parenting is keeping a straight face. I am fairly sure it’s just spilled lemonade on a pair of pants. Nothing that requires my immediate attention.

* I love Cleolinda’s Secret Life Of Dolls posts, and today’s SLOD just about made me crack a rib laughing. I needed that.

* Ah, yes. The lemonade has been mopped up. They managed to clean it up themselves and change into clean clothes. Then they came and informed me proudly that I hadn’t been necessary. Ah, the little darlings.

* It’s sunny again. What’s with the sunny days creeping me out? I get a little uneasy when I wake up to sunshine and birdsong. It’s like a Disney movie…but then I start looking for the zombies.

* I’m glad today was a light workout day–just a 20 minute run and some shovelgloving. That and some Midol have evened out my mood a bit. I don’t feel like running through the house with my hair on fire. This is good.

* I am considering canceling my subscription to W magazine. They used to have some really avant-garde advertising in there, stuff I could cut up and use for collages. But alas, no more. And I’m getting really, really tired of looking at everyone in there either needing a ham sandwich or preparing to shed their human form and bite their mate’s head off at climax. I’d rather read Cooks Illustrated and Scientific American, frankly. I suspect it’s because I’ve gotten old…

* After I finish reading the current crop of Tantra books, I think I’m going to go back and take another whack at Meditation Secrets for Women. I get so tired of male-centred philosophical systems; and Western writers writing about Tantra (because I can’t read the original texts) have a male bias all its own–the female is still treated as the exception to the male norm. As per usual. I need a palate cleanser.

* Next up on my personal reading quest: poetry! Anna Akhmatova, Sylvia Plath, and ee cummings. If the Plath and Akhmatova end up depressing me, I have a stock of Neruda and St. Vincent Millay on hand too. (Hey. Shush. I like Millay.) I have to finish Young Stalin first, though. No more Stalin bios, dammit. They give me weird dreams.

* Shiva the corn snake was fed yesterday. We defrosted a pinkie and got Shiva in a separate feeding container, then dangled the defrosted mousicle in front of him with tongs. (”You’ve thought of everything, Mummy!” Astronomy Girl said.) Everyone watched as Shiva struck, then everyone watched as he dislocated his jaw and the mouse went down in a matter of minutes. We waited until the mouse lump was somewhere in the middle of his body, then set the food container in his enclosure so he could slither out on his own–better than handling him right after he’s eaten, since he’s such a little guy. I thought the kids would be a little squicked, but they were just fascinated and watched the whole process with something resembling awe.

I, of course, was very happy with this because he was eating a rodent. Things that eat rodents are Good. We all know how I feel about rats. Things with naked tails and beady little eyes freak me out. I know rats are smart and make good pets, but the atavistic shudder I feel when I see one…no. Just no. I’m happier with the snake.

And that, my dears, is all. Revisions for Flesh Circus are in my future. I like being busy, and I’m in a revisions sort of mood. Kismet books are hard on me emotionally, and I think I’m ready to get this one revised and out the door…and make some headway on something else. I’m itching to write something new instead of endless revising.

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