April 2016 – How Would You Do It?

Dynamite That Word Dam!

I could stand it no more! The quiet, patient laptop won me over Saturday. I made a pot of inky coffee and made a batch of oatmeal cookies so I could be up there in Sci-Fi land for the long haul. The cookies were made with very expired flour, expired oats, expired eggs, elderly, rock-hard sugar and crystallized sorghum in lieu of the brown sugar I didn’t have. They turned out fine and went upstairs with me to the writing closet. That was after I’d guzzled a cup and a half of the black brain-cleaner. With the coffee cup topped off, I fired up the computer and opened “Otto and Socks – Mama’s Big Fat Clue” and read through what I already had.

Then I stared at the screen. The term ‘writer’s block’ wafted through my head…NO! I am stronger willed than that and shall never succumb to a word-dam. I gulped some more java and imagined it etching big gaping holes in the word-dam, eroding it until it washed completely away.

I had the loose draft and had used it as an outline before. This time, I saw the great insufficiency of the draft; it didn’t account for the actual characters! Pfft! Write, write, slurp, write, gnaw, hours went by. I only wrote six pages in that multi-hour span, but they were so satisfying. That included two rounds of editing, and changing the title to “Otto and Socks – Mama’s Fat Packet of Clues”. Of course, that could change again, who knows.

I have over a dozen stories drafted that follow that story arc with the same main characters. I naturally would prefer to compile them into a single, cohesive novel. Yet the desire to try something different, to accept the challenge of writing succinct stories instead of sprawling sagas, is very appealing to me. The main driver isn’t wanting to try the art form, per se, it is more related to how I present what I wrote to the world. Short stories will be much easier to record. They’d be short enough to post. Maybe. Dunno, they may morph into a contiguous book after all. My wild ideas that seem so cool and innovative at the cabin pale a bit by the time they reach the outer planets.

An example is the idea to take my five published Elise t’Hoot novels (and the last one not published yet) and split them into at least two books each. A 400 page book is $15, and nobody wants to pay $15 for a paperback by an unknown author. I even thought up new titles and imagined new covers. I only went for the 400 page thing originally because I wanted to hook up with Baen Books and that was their requirement. Then picture a big BOXED SET!

After reality sank in, I wanted the rest to match. Hmmm, most have a good division point, but they would need a bit of rewrite to have then each stand alone. Since they’re self-published, I can do what I want with them. I think they would be much more accessible and easier to work with. At least I thought all that was fabulous this weekend. Now I’m very hesitant to mess with projects I completed when I have so many in queue, wanting me to hurry it up.

Stop Howling! I Hear You!

I have changed the cabin dynamic and nobody around there is happy about it. I have taken Spring Cleaning to an all-time high by clearing out entire rooms, all of them, one at a time. The cabin was stuffed with old boxes of obscure plunder, decrepit appliances, one more project shoehorned into a tight space, too many books (can’t believe I said that) and was generally junky with a couple decades of accumulation. Moving and sorting all this might sound easy, but I assure you IT IS NOT! Stuff to keep goes in boxes elsewhere. Hundreds of them. The remainder is revealed and can be donated or disposed off, tons of stuff. I have developed marvellous muscles from carrying heavy loads down long flights of stairs. What of the usual and well-loved pastimes that I so looked forward to each weekend?

These are calling to me in a shrill, demanding voice. Some of the squirts even threaten me, saying, “Look you, I’ll dry up if you don’t get a move on! Everything you need is right here, hop to it!” I retort, “Shut UP! You are waiting for me to carve you out a real studio!”

These grab at my shirt every time I walk by. The weather is warm! We can ferment like crazy! I walk by swiftly to avoid that, but these suckers are sometimes quite wily and lull me into thinking they are asleep. I tarry a second too long and GRAB! “STOP IT!”, I say. “You need to much space and time to fool with right now!”

These cry to me in some foreign language I don’t understand, yet I know they are restless and wish me to transform them into the ephemeral beings that are destined to be. They would turn out to be quite physical if I did the required work. I used the word ‘ephemeral’ because these beverages seem to disappear when I’m not looking. Since I have no opportunity now to carry them to their highest calling, I look away as I slink by. I WANT to put up a few more cases. I will, I promise.

No greater din is made than the cacophony coming from these piteous things. I have the old workhorse machine which has provided me many hours of pleasure and increased my sense of accomplishment – usually. I have so many pieces of cloth they could form their own country. They do have their own language. A persuasively ardent call echoes in my head; they urge me to sit for just a while, feel the scissors in my grip, smooth out the printed paper pattern on a smooth floral cotton blend. The blue cottony material nearly rises from the bag like a primordial beast from the sea in earnest yearning to breathe. I callously shun them. They howl! I put the cover on the machine and snap it down decisively. I shove all of the material into boxes and stack them. They whimper. The guilt is onerous.

The saddest, most hurt of all are these poor, neglected things. They do not cry out. They do not make a sordid scene every time I get near. The microphone had such lofty hopes of being part of a 10 hour narration; she stands there stoically, waiting. The keyboard believes I left them because previously pecked out efforts have not sold well, no return on investment. I’d love to tell those sweet keys that this is not so. I have extensive plans! I know I’ll never get rich with writing, that’s not the point. I have written out of a strong desire to let the stories fly and be free in the skies of this wide and wondrous world, letting the words dance on the clouds! Delays now are unrelated, not their faults. But I don’t say anything. They can’t see that recording will take acoustic material application, that the old computer equipment had no reason to take up so much space. No area was safe from my furious junk attack.

I simply have too much work to do right now! This weekend STARTS cleaning…I know it won’t be easy either. Then fumigating to rid us of the Brown Recluses (I weep for the collateral damage to my beloved Wolf spider friends). Then repairs. Then creating more organized and efficient storage and work spaces. This takes faith, I tell you.

A Reader from Sentience to Senility

From the time I was a wee tot, I have loved BOOKS. Sure, at first I actually ate them, leaving slobbery gnawed scallops in the covers of my Little Golden Books. When I started READING them, I was so sad I’d eaten Mama Cat’s head (The Three little Kittens). You know, the three little kittens lost their mittens and they began to cry, “Oh Mother dear, we sadly fear….” Yup, I ate Mama’s head so she couldn’t hear them cry.

The funnies in the Courier-Journal newspaper were great to learn on because they were illustrated. Peanuts was good because Schultz used a good variety of words. Andy was a bald kid who never spoke – phooey! Beetle Baily was okay, and it was funny all the ways the Sarge would yell at Beetle. I remember I would cheat and sneak at look at the puzzle answers, then pretend I’d solved it myself. When I could really solve it myself, it was too elementary and I found harder puzzles.

Ma had a small plant stand with a bookshelf underneath. The only books I remember being there at this moment were Gone With the Wind (Margaret Mitchell) and The Good Earth (Pearl S. Buck). Other kids were watching Spot Run, Run Spot Run while I was reading about Scarlett making a dress from her curtains. Gosh, I thought that was neat. Not our curtains, though, they were from the Dollar Store. Dad was on a minesweeper in the Korean War, so I thought the Chinese were bad because of some of the things I’d heard about the war. Ms. Buck showed me another side of China, something much more human than a gun.

Such a marvel is a Bookmobile! Ma and I walked to the grocery every week and I convinced her to visit the Bookmobile that parked in the broad parking lot between W. T. Grants and Woolco Department Store. I got books on her card until the driver finally said I could get my very own. Victory! The first book I ever checked out using my own card was The Jargoon Pard by Andre Norton. Wow! I got the limit every week and read them all.

I still have the first set of The Lord of the Rings and the Hobbit (J. R. R. Tolkien) I got, paperbacks. Then I got a book club set in hardback. That edition has what I believe is a typo, where Gollum has a griping hand. Come on, it has to be a gripping hand! About ten years ago I got a Folio Socity set; posh, precious, read multiple times. I also have the calendars, Leaf By Niggle, the elven lore books, the commentaries, all I could find. Then everything by C. S. Lewis: All seven Narnia stories in boxed paperback , in hardback and in Spanish, plus Out of the Silent Planet, Perelandra, That Hideous Strength, The Screwtape Letters…get an author I like and I must acquire them all! Very frustrating about Dune. I had all of the original books by Frank Herbert. Then his son and another guy started making more. And more. And more? The idea of it being a franchise mill wars with my desire to have ‘the whole set’.

I have two sets of Encyclopedia Britannicas, one is from a guy’s trunk 30 years ago, paid him $200 (they were recent then). I have about 50 books on sewing and textile crafts. I have all David Brin , Arthur C. Clarke, Greg Benford and Ben Bova ever wrote as well as all of Richard Adams, Anne McCaffery and Ursula K. LeGuin. I have four feet of shelf space for Physics, six for Navy, and another eight feet for repair-fix it-construct it-design it books. There are about 200 cookbooks in the kitchen, all cooking methods and many ethnicities. That doesn’t count the 30 or so on growing and using fruit.

All together, that makes about 5000 total now on all subjects in all genres and I still devour books.

Woodland May Apples

Newly leafing May Apples, and I sure have lots of them. Part of my land is a Kentucky – designated wetland. That’s the perfect environment for the well-storied May Apple.

Other names: Umbrella Plant, Duck Foot, American Mandrake, Wild Jalap, Racoon Berry, Hog Apple and Indian Apple.

Lest the “American Mandrake” scare you, like, don’t eat the plant or unripe fruit. The May Apple is not a real mandrake, but chowing down a plant might well do you in.

As a relevant aside, the real mandrake is a member of the Solanacae family (as is the Deadly Nightshade!). People used to think tomatoes (from that family) were poisonous. Potatoes are from that family too, don’t eat the green skin or the sprouts – same for eggplants. Tobacco to peppers to petunias, it’s a big family! I mention these simply as an example of how you can eat poisonous plants and fruit if you know what you’re doing.

So, like eating the correct part of the potato, eat only the fully ripe, yellow fruit. That is if you can beat the squirrels to it some time from late May through July. This website has pretty good information on it:

Eat the Weeds can be found at http://www.eattheweeds.com/podophyllum-peltatum-forgotten-fruit-2/

Walking through the woods is wonderful and Spring is a magical time to take it all in. From the tree-borne constellations of Redbud blossoms to the tiny, precious wildflowers, I love it!

Silliness, Take It or Leave It!

“Hey, Bud! What’s up with you these days?”

“Well if it isn’t ol’ Bud! Good to see you!”

“Didn’t I see Bud around here somewhere?”

“I think Bud had to leave.”

“How would you bloomin’ know?”

“Oh, come on. We all leave eventually! This the natural course of events, the reason for our being, an integral part of our fruitful mission!”

“All I know is she ain’t leaving until she fills up my food dish!”

A Poem by Elise t’Hoot from Hate All Around

Tug of the Leash

I never knew the loneliest word was home

Home

That’s where you are and where I feel I’ll never be again

What do you think and do you want this wandering wreck to come home?

Home?

I go to bed and miss your touch

Do you miss me all that much?

I feel undressed without your kiss,

I’m wrapped in plastic, apart from what’s true

I want to go home,

to home and you

I never knew the loneliest word was home

Home

Like a dog tied out to post stuck in the yard, straining at the end of her chain

aching to chase the rabbits, to smell the smells,

the unbending limit of her well-defined circle puts her under a spell

Escape, run free, it fills her head

But what about that tree, where the good man came to rattle the food bowl,

fill the water, to check the collar?

He’d rub my ears with such strong hands, with such suave words

Was that home?

I never knew there was a word so lonely as home

How can I claim I’ll change my ways if you let me back to stay

to raise the kids, to make the cakes and search the sky until my poor heart breaks

Darling, does that mean I can’t come home?

I’m a trillion miles from you

How empty does it echo, that warm and sweet idea,

of toys underfoot and books on the shelves

of the shelter and the permanence of home?

Mate or master what does it matter?

I cry for you

and Home

The Most Marvellous Bread!

I have brought many loaves into the world over the years: German Rye, Swedish Rye, French Baguette, Challah, Sally Lunn, Farmhouse, Wheat, lots of different kinds. Now I have finally hit upon the most fabulous, I love it, oh boy bread ever.

The recipe is based loosely on Challah, with substitutions and additions.

Flint Springs Loaded Egg Bread

2/3 cup warm water

3 T sorghum molasses (I just drizzle some in)

3 T Butter

A little salt

3 eggs

1C plain flour

1C whole wheat flour

1C multigrain flour

handful of nuts (I love walnuts)

Note: the bread machine breaks up the nuts during processing. If kneading by hand, decide how big you want the nut bits.

handful of dried fruit (cranberries, blueberries, raisins, currants)

a little cranberry, cherry or such juice as needed for kneading

2-1/2 t yeast (I buy bulk yeast and keep it in the freezer)

3 T dough conditioner

3 T vital gluten (These last two ingredients help the whole wheat and multigrain behave)

This is a high riser! I let mine bake in the bread machine, but you could easily bake one big or two small loaves as you would any whole wheat recipe.

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