Where did the time go....?

Hey, wasn't I just here yesterday and blogging about nothing?  I guess not because when I look at the date of my last post it is over a week ago.  Zowies...

Weather report...rain, rain, and more rain.  It washed out 41 roads, including ours.  The work they did this summer...the half assed work they did this summer...didn't hold up under the onslaught.  Shocker.  So after the cats, dogs, frogs, and fish which fell from the sky the couple inches of crush they put over the too-small culvert washed away and left the culvert exposed and two big assed trenches across the road right outside our driveway. The new bridge got washed away...over...and they closed that side of the road.  They poured another few inches of crush on the too-small culvert which means that come the next rainfall it too will end up downstream.  So the answer to the question, why does Nova Scotia have the shittiest roads and no money, was just answered...again. 

The hubby finished my xmas present yesterday, a new light box.  Yay me.  So if I ever get back to being creative in the drawing kind of way...I will be able to go to town on it. 

I'm contemplating teaching a writing class in the new year...but before I commit I want to make sure that I can keep all my ducks in a row.  And not sure how much of a hardship it will be to spend even more time away from Kitpu Estates.  Of course with the daylight coming back and the days being longer it may not seem like such a hardship.  Yes I know, me and my first world problems. 

Speaking of first world problems...I am off to try and see if I can rustle up some anti-stink formula for the dog.  I wonder if wiping her down with laundry sheets would work?

Blech

I woke up this morning at pee o'clock to let the hell hound out.  It was fucking pouring outside.  Like buckets of frogs pouring.  She opted to stay in the house until I gave her a gentle nudge in the ass.  Yes it sucks to have to go outside to pee but thems the breaks when you're a dog.  About an hour later the skies dried up.  So yay us. 

After breakfast and some futzing around in the house I finally decided to come out to the Wookie Cave to do some creating.  And of course I am at the 'I don't know which I would rather do' stage of things.  Do I paint, or do I write?  That is the question.  Not quite as poetic as William S. but a conundrum nonetheless.  I have to get one more painting done in my series, and I want to finish a stool which I think I will be able to sell pretty easily.  And seeing as I need money so I can afford to get a good heater for the cave I really should work on the painting part.  But I happen to have this 'new book idea' blooping around in my head and it will not leave.  Perhaps if I can get an outline done it will leave me alone for awhile.  Most especially because I haven't actually finished the book I have been editing for the last thousand years. 

I'm trying a combination of electric space heater and a DIY flower pot/candle heater to see if it will help warm the space sufficiently.  The heater is pumping out the BTUs and sucking up money...the flower pot has four tea lights underneath it and has been burning for less than an hour...it is too hot to touch but the air is warm about four inches away from it...so we will see.  Apparently it should be good for four hours. 

Compared to yesterday, today is downright arctic.  It was zero earlier and now the temps have dropped to -4...with a wind.  Brrrrrrrrr.  Which means that if I decide to give up on my writing and go for a walk I will have to dress for it.  That part is good in one way (meaning that I actually have clothes that I can use to keep warm which is better than those who do not have the option) and bad in another...(dressing in thick layers means I feel like the stay puff marshmallow man). 

I'm torn between wanting to go out and kill some birds, or laughing uncontrollably at them.  Right now they are standing outside in front of the Wookie Cave, facing the wall, and hollering like four Banshees.  WTF?  Do they see their shadows?  Are they trying to convince me to open up the wall so they can come in?  Or do they have a death wish?  It is maddening and funny all at the same time.  We have a brick box with a light bulb in it in their coop.  The box stays warm and seems to do a not bad job keeping the coop warm, but the assholes don't like being in the coop for too long because they end up hating each other.  But they also don't seem to like being very cold.  A conundrum for sure.  It wouldn't be bad if they were so noisy sometimes. 

Okay...nuff said...back to thinking and writing and thinking some more. 

Cookies

So I baked some cookies for the book launch thing yesterday.  They turned out to be yummy...not yesterday because I didn't try any( but as I write I am sampling some of the ones which did not make the grade for public consumption).  The author did an amazing job at her launch.  Chatty, informative, with just the right amount of reading.  I think that if there were any people there who did not know her, she probably inclined them to buy her book.  I hope when it comes time for me to do a book launch I will be able to pull something like that off.  It has to be better than hiding away from everyone in the bathroom.  Just guessing here. 

The weather is kind enough to be in the double digits today, which I think is pretty decent of it considering that it is the first of December.  And considering that it is -33 in the town I used to live in out west I can put it on my grateful list.  That is if I kept such a list.  Which I think I actually do.  It counteracts the "woe is me, my life sucks, why does everything bad have to happen to me" list that the hubby keeps.  I can't even imagine how sucky life would be if we both had that kind of list.  I probably would have opened a vein years ago.  

Well I best get back to writing.  Currently I am finishing a short story about the time my dad escaped to Italy across the Alps during WWII.  Once that is done I will go back to editing.  Joy. 

Lovey

I love the fact that on days like today I am self employed.  I can do what I want, when I want.  My wants included finishing a story (rant) and going for a walk and then perhaps doing a little more writing after the fact.  So done, done, and getting there. 

My walk was brisk, the sun was shining, the roads were wet, and now the hell hound is covered in three inch long muddy icicles from stem to stern.  Does anyone know the physics behind warm dog + wet water = long icicles?  Presently I have her tied to the door thawing out so I can take a towel and then dry her off.  The alternate would be to allow her to wander all over the house and then kill her.  

Did I mention that the sun was shining?  Because sweet baby jeebus it is.  I'm loving that.  Although at this time of the year when the sun shines it means the house gets pretty toasty.  It shines straight in through the front windows and heats up the back wall.  Many times I have to throw them open a few times to allow some of the cool air to take it down a few million degrees.  But if this sounds like a complaint...it isn't. 

Yesterday I did a run into the city in record time.  Drove in...right to the place I needed to go...found the store without GPS...they had what I wanted...bought two so I wouldn't have to redo the drive any time soon...and then drove home.  And here is the best part - the flurries they were predicting did not happen so I didn't have to white knuckle it.  That is a great, big bag of awesome. 

Now I have to go and figure out what I want to bake for tomorrow.  I have a friend who is doing a book launch and I need to bring treats.  

Horizontal Water

I just got home from giving the kid a helping hand at her shack.  She is doing the back to school thing and therefore has somewhat less time with the regular run of the mill things like waking up, and eating...so that's where I occasionally come in.  I'm not a big fan of leaving the ranch so it has to be important, interesting, or for someone who I happen to like a lot and is in need of a hand.  Oh and food...I like to eat therefore I am forced to leave and restock.  Once I make a zillion dollars from my book...or....win the lottery, I will be paying someone to do that chore for me. 

Right now the wind has picked up, and seeing as it is currently raining, the water seems to be falling horizontally.  The hell hound keeps going to the door and standing there giving me the evil eye.  Or in her case the, look at how cute I am and don't you feel like letting me outside eye.  So I go over, open the door, and watch her stick her head out and then back up.  I gently place my foot on her butt and shove her out the door.  Then she stands under the eaves looking forlorn until I relent and let her back in.  And then five minutes later we do it again.  She can keep it up all night but I can't, so I start to yell until she slinks off to her bed...for five minutes. 

Yesterday Kitpu Estates was over run by short little people.  Short, little people are loud...demanding...and sticky.  When a short, little person is within a kilometer of you, nothing can be done.  Even if some miracle happens and they are occupied by something besides making demands on a person, you still cannot do anything.  It's a wonder that human beings managed to make it this far.  How do parents ever get anything done?  Although I do recall when I had my very own short person to bring up she seemed to be relatively self sufficient...and when I was a short, little person I recall not having any expectations of the parental units paying much attention to us.  Well other than the usual...go outside and play!  Come in the house and eat.  Go to bed.  And every once in awhile...go have a bath.  And not only did we manage to survive, but we seemed to thrive. 

Jolly Roger

As I sit here in my studio, AKA The Wookie Cave, I can see a flag pole sporting a very tattered Jolly Roger.  (The tatters give it a really authentic look me thinks.)  And beyond it a lake, which looks grey and dismal and brrrrrr.  Today is a brrrr kind of day.  In fact so chilly that it keeps threatening to snow.  Snow--for those of you who may not experience the phenomena--is white, shitty, cold stuff to be tolerated by us poor Canukians for long stretches of time.  The leaves are all but gone from the ash and maples, but for some odd reason the beeches never seem to want to give them up, so they remain like little sienna coloured corpses rattling their hellos all winter. 

Four sad, little guineas are wandering around trying to scrape something out of the frozen ground. Of course they aren't really sad, that is just me projecting my human emotions onto the little bastards.  They in fact are wandering around, pecking at the ground, making a lot of racket, and generally are being assholes to each other.  Occasionally they thump against the walls of the cave, a habit they picked up over the summer, and pop their heads up trying to look into the windows.  (Probably more like trying to see themselves in the reflection.  Guineas are infatuated by themselves in mirrors.) 

Ka-rumba...we have company...I must leave you dear reader.  For fox's lakes.