Inspired by another blog I read, I thought I’d post a few pictures of what I found that day when I returned…

In front of my house

My backyard fence

My backyard

Across from my house

My street after the storm

My street after the storm

A street near Lake Pontchartrain in Slidell, LA. I lived near here after college.

This work by Lynette Mejia is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-Share Alike 3.0 United States License.

My rating: 5 of 5 stars

What can I say?  Another edge-of-the-seat thriller from Larsson. It was a great read, and kept me glued to the page until I was finished.  All the hype about this writer is deserving.  Such a shame he died without receiving the fruits of his labor.

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A-ha Butterfly, Butterfly (Tha Last Hurrah)

A-ha | MySpace Music Videos

Tropical weather skirting the edges of this area today.  Most of the action seems to be in the New Orleans area, so I’m not sure if we’ll be seeing anything from it.  It’s cloudy out, however, keeping the temperatures down somewhat, so I’m glad of that. I’d love to get some rain, though.  This is the time of year Gulf South gardeners just get through, working at dusk and dawn, dodging the heat and waiting for the cool breezes of autumn.  The Dog Days.  The ancient Romans blamed it all on Sirius, sacrificing a brown dog to try and appease his anger and cool things off.  My cats think it’s a tradition worth saving, though they haven’t convinced me yet.

At any rate, back to work.  The rituals continue, even if the seasons no longer exactly line up.

The LOML got the initial coats of paint onto Brandon’s wall yesterday, which looks great.  I never did like the pale pink color the room was originally.  Just not a pastel girl.  We left it because Katie sorta dug it and because we were too tired from consolidating/moving two households already.  The blue we chose is great, and I think it will grow with Brandon.  In fact, I’m really hoping both their rooms do them until they finish high school.  I am aware, however, that this may be wishful thinking on my part.

After the cut, a few pictures from my sagging late-summer garden. I tried to get the pretty, heat-loving flowers, carefully avoiding the large patches of wilting, half-dead brown plants.  It makes me sad.  This heat wave sucks.  Tonight at dusk I’ll go out and water, but there’s just no substitute for cool breezes and afternoon thunderstorms.

And now, I need to get to work.

Wisteria, not sure of the cultivar.

Clematis "Etoile Violette"

Marigold

Salvia "Victoria Blue"

Yesterday was spent working on Brandon’s new room, cleaning out the last of Katie’s things, going through them and deciding what’s going to Goodwill, what’s going in the trash and what’s going in her new room.  The LOML taped up all the molding last night, so I believe we’re a go for painting tonight.  Luckily, Brandon currently only lives across the hall, so this move won’t be the endless trudging between floors.  Still, he’s a pack rat, so sorting through his mess will be a daunting task.

I’m missing the farm.  I haven’t gone in a couple of weeks because the heat is prohibitive to getting anything done, but I’m homesick nonetheless.  I miss taking walks, working in the gardens, seeing the full darkness of night without the false dawn of city lights.  As soon as things cool down a bit I’ll go back, though that may be a few weeks out yet.

Last night we played WOW again, though I have to admit I’m getting somewhat tired of quest grinding in Zul’Drak.  Naamah and Adramalech are at level 76 now, and those final four levels seem to be taking forever.  I know I’ll never be a candidate for Loremaster, even though at heart I’m an achievement whore, simply because I can’t stand to stay in one place long enough to finish every quest available.  My alternative undead-self has a serious case of wanderlust, and she’s getting restless.  Perhaps tonight I’ll take a break, and just work instead.

Nine days till school starts.  Bittersweet, as the silence will be much more conducive to work, but the absence of my kiddos always leaves a hole in my heart. Some small, selfish piece of me wants to keep them little forever.

Until tomorrow.

My garden in April. This is what I think about in August, when everything is half-dead with the heat.

A few days ago I decided to rework my entire manuscript, changing the narrative point of view from first person to third person omniscient.  It was a huge decision, one that I gave lots of thought to, but ultimately, it fits the story I want to tell.  The fact is, I need to be inside the head of all my characters, as there are some things, including relationships, that I want to cover from more than one perspective.

Needless to say, the decision has cost me some time.  Not only do I have to go back and rework the chapters I’ve written, but I’ll now need to add in chapters that tell the story from other characters’ viewpoints.  This adds more time and work to my deadline, but ultimately I think it will add greatly to the story.  First person demands a very tight narrative; third person allows for a much richer, well-rounded story.

On the pregnancy front, everything continues to progress nicely.  Each week we’ve worked to move one room in our massive, house-wide reorganization project to make room for the new family member.  Two weeks ago we moved my office from upstairs to a small room next to the kitchen.  Last week we moved my daughter upstairs to the former office room.  This week we get started moving my son to his sister’s old room, and then finally, we’ll use his room for the new baby.  It’s very exciting, and I’m getting lots of stuff donated and thrown out that needed to be weeded years ago.  It feels good.

And now, back to the grind.

The threatened miscarriage that left me paralyzed with fear last week has thankfully become something I can deal with now.  Prognosis from the doctor is good, and I am laying low (well, as much as I am capable of) and taking it easy.  I look at is as an opportunity  for work on the novel, and as a good excuse to stay out of the heat.  Of course, with pregnancy brain, writing is even harder, so here we are back at the beginning.

Still, the book is coming.  Word by word.  I’m in the middle, around 20,000 words in, the part where I’m not really sure what’s going to happen next, where I have to let go and trust that my characters know what they’re doing.  Most days I do a lot of staring at the screen.  Sometimes it all seems like crap. Sometimes it seems pretty good.  I’m determined to finish, though, crap or not, because this is when I make the decision, when the idea of wanting to be a writer turns into actually being one.  You can’t “kinda” be a writer any more than you can “kinda” be pregnant.  Whatever you say, you either are or you aren’t.

And I am.

Not much to be said for yesterday. We rented a couple of movies, Avatar and the newest Alice in Wonderland. Katie loved them both. Brandon refused to watch either. Halfway through Avatar, Katie asked if I would braid her hair in little dreds. I ended up doing just one on either side of her face, but she loved it. She has such a vivid imagination, that magical ability to put herself inside another world. I think it will probably end up being both a blessing and a curse as she gets older. Still, I’m glad she has it. I’d much prefer raising dreamers to cold, hard realists any day.

The fatigue took me again around 3pm, and I slept till five. No words written. Even as I write this, my limbs are heavy and I have to fight the urge to give in to exhaustion. I’ll take them to the library in a few minutes, and I’ll try to get some work done when we get back. Tonight they must go to their father’s house, so it will just be me, the fetus, and the LOML this weekend. No plans yet, but maybe that’s a good thing.

After the cut, a short video I saw on Neatorama a few days ago. I posted it on Facebook, but I wanted to add it here as well. It’s short, only five minutes, but grab a box of tissues, because you’ll need ‘em.

Leave Me from Daros Films on Vimeo.