Shorn

Bear with me... this is about more than it seems.

What's a girl to do when she suffers from the stress of tight budgets, deadlines, job hunting, relationship fracture, and friends in crisis?

She changes her hair, of course.  And because of stress contributor number one, she visits a hair cutter rather than a hair stylist.

Which results in five inches less hair in length and roughly five pounds less in hair volume.

I don't know where my hair went, but it's no longer at the back of my head. I feel bald in behind from ear to ear.  I can only be thankful it is now hat season, and that perhaps with no hair, my head may finally be small enough to fit a hat.

Of course hair grows back, and in comparison to starvation in the Sudan and testicular cancer not to mention everything being endured in the world the state of my hair is an unmentionably infinitesimal, paltry concern. So I'm not really complaining about it. I'm merely sharing my shock. I went from searching for some way to shake up my life while simultaneously wresting back some control to feeling scalped and vulnerable.

Again, not that my situation bears any resemblance, but in the bible study I'm following, the people have been led out of Egypt and slavery and Pharaoh and are figuring out how to follow God and trust Him. He tells them He will provide, He will be with them, and that He will be talking face to face with Moses.  They're quite keen to go along with that, and say, yes, Lord, whatever You ask of us, so shall we do.  Well, Moses is away from them for a few days, and they go bonkers, thinking God has left them, and they take matters into their own hands. That's where the golden calf business got them into trouble. They forgot to trust God, and things got pretty sticky there for a while.

I haven't been rescued from Egypt or slavery or Pharaoh, but I am having to put into practice... I have to live day to day my faith, my trust in God. He brought me here, back to Sohoe, to Lake Town, which I love so much. I have had this wonderful job that I have enjoyed thoroughly - honestly, there has not been one day that I have dreaded going to work. This year has been blessing upon blessing, and now I must believe that what comes next will be just as fine, that I will still be provided for.

I would so love to be able to carry on with the same job, in the same home, but I have to let that go. I can't turn what I have into a golden calf.  I do my part, of course: searching and applying. But the biggest part is to trust.

So I'll do my best to be stripped of anxiety rather than be shorn of more than hair.

It's a Marathon - NaNoWriMo style

Having given up the word count approach - a sure way to despair and despondency if ever there was one, I have decided to dedicate large chunks of time to writing and in that time get huge chunks of the novel down on paper.

And so was born The Marathon.  I can't go to San Fran to participate in the official one, but a friend (hi Sarah!) and I are writing our own marathon, roughly 700 kms apart, connected by technology and sheer will to write and write and write until we just can't write any more.

This is Hour One for me, rather later than I intended to begin, but begin I shall.  As soon as I post this, I am picking up the pen and writing my story forward.  I've left her (Caroline) in an awkward situation, and I've felt sorry for that for two days now.  Must go and rescue her.

Marathon supplies

Write on!

The head exam

My dad used to say things like: "Someone needs their head examined."

He would usually be talking about a politician or an engineer - he had the same amount of respect for both classes of people.

In this scenario, however, the person needed a head exam would be me.  What was I thinking, signing up for (and paying $50 for!) a 24-week bible study that comes with roughly 2 hours of homework each week, and then taking on a nearly 2,000 word a day writing challenge?  Was I thinking?  Evidently not, because I have conveniently forgotten the fact that I must also begin a job hunt. Now. Which means scouring newspapers and bulletins boards, and, ugh, revamping my resume yet again.

Oh, and I just realized that I'll be away for three weekends this month.

I'm not regretting any of it. I am actually enjoying it all. There just isn't sufficient time for it all - oh, and The Great Reading Project!  How could I forget that little detail?  And the Christmas crafts I'm hoping to get to.

The only thing to do in these situations is to take my father's advice.
I shall go to bed at once.

The Fourth

Ah... 1,667 words feels pretty good, once you've got them down on paper.  They look, good, too, all neatly marching in their lines across the white pages.  Thing is, it's taken me two days to get one day's quota.
I have an excuse though, please hear me out:
I was on the road yesterday.  I'm spending four days with my mom so writing time is going to be scarce, though not nonexistent. There will probably be plenty of imagination fodder, so I'm sure it will all equal out somewhere around the middle.
Not entirely sure what I have written so far fits into the idea I had for it, but I'm barely 1/30 of the way there so I'll keep at it.

Something interesting: I am writing by hand in a little notebook. My penmanship is actually getting neater as I go along - something I'd have liked to know about when I wrote about writing vs typing. Who'd a thunk it, K R Smith!

Another interesting fact: I was able to listen to a ManUnited game on AM radio as I drove here yesterday. However, pressing on the gas caused interference with the reception. I've never had such inducement to ease off the lead foot!

Happy NaNoWriMo Day Four to all.

300

300 words.  1367 to go.  Not a bad beginning.
I have found my way into the story. I know who my main character is. I can hear her voice. I know what will happen to her.
Well, some of what will happen to her.
We're going to be spending a lot of time together these next 30 days, she and I. I think it will be fine.

I've come out of my self-imposed 45 minute writing bubble* to find large pieces of tree on the front lawn. There is a fearsome wind blowing through Sohoe.  Most of Ontario, it seems.  Stay safe, dear Reader.


*my shaky math skills calculate that at 300 words per 45 minutes, it will take me 4 hours a day to get 1,667 words down.

Yikes.

And so it begins: National Novel Writing Month

The goal:  1,667 words each day; 50,000 words by month's end.

 

 

This is my first NaNoWriMo. I am very excited to see what comes of the effort and am anxious to get started.

There is a vague plot roughed out in my mind - working title is 'Stained Glass'.  The idea came to me a few nights ago and it's been hard to hold back, not get started right away. 

 

Stay tuned for updates!

 

 



Things I've learned in the kitchen

When butchering a duck, it is important to have a very sharp knife.

Using a pot-holder to remove a hot dish from the oven is wise; forgetting heat lingers once the dish is out of the oven will result in scorched hands and blistered forearms.

Cranberries bounce. They bounce far.

Margarine containers shatter when dropped on the floor.

An error of 100 degrees makes a difference to the end result.

There is not enough time to clean the bathroom while also sautéing carrots before they scorch.

It is best to turn off the immersion blender before lifting it out of the smoothie.

You will not remember the next morning that you placed one bowl over another on the drying rack the night before, until one crashes to the floor as you're putting them away.

Singing - the louder the better - makes any kitchen task more fun.

** Late addition:  always, always, ALWAYS label what is in the baggies you stash in the freezer. What seems obviously chicken soup, or grape tomatoes, or strawberries when they go in the icebox, becomes indistinguishable a few weeks later. Chicken soup makes for a very unappetising smoothie.