Tuesday, June 9, 2015

Life Keeps Keepin' On

Hello, my bl'eaders. I've my writing (various other small projects but the blog hasn't been anything like a priority) terribly little, but life has thrown a staggering amount of distractions, worry, wonderment, and general chaos my way lately.

My dad-in-law has had a recurrence of his cancer but is recovering, astonishingly. He's a private guy and wouldn't be well-pleased for me to share details, so I haven't written much about it. He was hospitalized on April 16th, my mom's birthday, and I was certain we'd lose him within the week. And then within the month. But he started improving at last and is steadily gaining strength and feeling less and less pain.

During the scarier weeks, my aunt(mom) had a minor heart attack, and though she was released fairly quickly, the timing and the fact that this was a second attack was rattling as hell. She's been home for weeks and is very well looked after by my brother, who's an incredible caretaker. He's so thorough in his research and diligence he should be an M.D. at this point.

And as all this is happening, Shane made the stunning, life-changing decision to leave his office job and return to work at ACE Adventure Resort, where he was a white water raft guide for ten years. He's now helping run the paintball field and doing rock climbing and zip line tours. 

He's glowing with more than a sunny tan. The outdoors is his element, and seeing him so happy has me falling in love with him as if he's a new man, though it's more the case that he's his truest primal self again. 

Yesterday afternoon, Bird and I went up into the mountains to frolic at the lake at ACE and meet him after his climbing session. I'd only ever been to ACE in the winter. Souster, lovely Marie, and our dudes used to spend New Years there, sipping (read: chugging) champagne in the hot tub surrounded by snow.

The lake was fantastic, and the day merits its own post after I compile and edit photos. I foresee many, many ACE days this summer. 

I have much to do the next couple of days. My Bu has a birthday tomorrow and we're hoping to do Birdy a room makeover. Little Bit has a new single bed of her own and is mad stoked to get it installed. We'll see how much excitement remains when we see how she handles a few nights in her own. 

She turned nine during these months of crazy. I'm as proud of the cake I made as I've been of sculptures before. 

Behold the Minecraft wonderment:

It was a five-layer monster. She was ecstatic.

Away with me now—more life needs living.

Saturday, May 9, 2015

Television Brain Suck, Pain Hell, and Suchlike

I promised myself and all of Facebook I'd write today, then I went off to be an incredibly loud soccer mom for someone who says she hates sports. 

Things are different when my own little baby I created my damn self is out there in her little uniform and her little team, the most adorable and underdoggiest team ever, score their first goal of the season. In their second to last game. 

They still lost, but not with a score of "Some little number to zero". Not that we're caring about scores. But we screamed so much one might have had the impression that we cared. 

We then visited the in-laws where I lived an ancient and well-cherished Appalachian Woman's tradition: I sat on a glider on a shaded porch sipping iced tea and watching gorgeous half-dressed men operate heavy equipment.

The hot dudes were my husband and brother-in-law and the iced tea was water, but we take artistic liberties, you understand. They weren't even half naked. It was sad.

Then the Bird went to the movies with her BBBFF, or Big Brother Best Friend Forever, who's actually her cousin obviously. The phrase, and I should not know this, is from My Little Pony.

Rainbow Dash 4-evah! 

Then I got sucked into the telly that has much, much more brain suction power now because we got expanded cable and BBC America is in my life now. Shane asked today if I was aware we had more new channels than just BBC. I said, "Yes, I've found there is also Syfy."

After my television-induced fugue I thought I'd try the PC just one more time in case it had only been moody and not broken. Broken AGAIN. And then I gave up and am blogging on my iPhone.

My refurbished iPhone because what the fuck IS IT with me and tech?! Shane calls me a Techubus, which sounds vaguely cool but is really just everything breaks all the time and I swear I didn't even touch it.

It's my aura, he says. It's made of chaos, he says. 

And I can't argue so I quote Delirium or Loki and shrug.

So that's my day. 

Previous days have mostly been a narcotic or muscle relaxer haze in a pain flare up that was just bonkers.

In lucid moments I've been sharing the gigantic collective swoon experienced right now by Neil Gaiman fans in and near Charleston since finding out he'll be here for our Book Fair in October. Jodi Picoult is coming too and the couple of books I've read of hers are fantastic.

Souster introduced the idea that the book club (which I keep intending and then failing to attend) should do 'Trigger Warnings' and a Picoult book that month. Genius. 

She's also been conscripted into service as a wheelchair pusher so we can go have our book and tits and such signed. I kid—I'll ask him to sign my ass. The man doesn't have all day. (My boobs are big, you see.)

Be well, fair bl'eaders who may well be demented imaginings by this point. I love you even if you're pretend. If you are pretend, I'm going to start calling you 'Boners because what—are you gonna be offended? You don't even exist. Uppity figments, you lot.

Saturday, March 14, 2015

Happy Pi Day 3.14.15...

Happy Pi Day, bl'eaders! In celebration, I have a story and a poem.

So a few weeks ago, Molly asked me if I liked black and white movies, and I told her two of my favorite films ever are black and white, The Following, by Nolan; and Pi, by Aronovsky. 

"There's a movie called PIE!?"

"Yeah, only it's Pi like in math, P-I."

She wanted to know what Pi is. I found it very hard to explain, though I told her about pi times radius squared but she was still looking at me like I was speaking Greek. {pause for collective groan}

I gave Shane the task, and he brought out three plates, a measuring tape, and a calculator. When she understood, which she did and which makes my think she's a goddamn certified genius, she immediately sat down and wrote this poem. Shane's and my jaws hit the floor and I declared her the newest incarnation of the Buddha. 

I loved that she grokked the quasi-mystical nature of the irrational number. I love the poem and will treasure it forever.

I give you The Pi Poem:

Pi, like a constant wave that rides away
   like wind into space.
It rides away like daisies on a cool spring
   day in a grassy field.
Oh, Pi, tell us the way of life.
Oh Pi, how do you constantly spin into
   space, all alone.
How did you begin?

- Molly Evans, age 8-nearly-9