Thursday, November 30, 2006
You know, thinking about it, if they can sell eight caramel apples, as gourmet as a caramel apple can be, for $70 then perhaps I've found my UK niche market. Just have to try and not eat the profits.
Monday, November 27, 2006
So, I finished Fast Women and it was ok. It was about a divorcee who plucks up and gets herself a job as a secretary for a P.I. She's whizzbang awesome at organising and does both of the bosses. Not at the same time, though. Shame, it may have sparked the story up some.
I don't want to be unfair, but I wasn't a big fan of this story. It again, had far too many people in it to keep track of, all of these brother-in-laws, sister-in-laws, ex wives and their kids. The story couldn't figure out if it wanted to be a romance, or a murder mystery and unfortunatley, fell flat on both. This time however, I loved the Heroine Nell, she was good fun, spunky and unpredictable so was her confidante...uhm...I forget her name. But the Hero was bland and characterless. If Crusie had written a story with Nell and Phin from Welcome to Tempatation she'd have had a hot winner. Hell yeah. She seemed more interested in telling me about the Hero, Gabe's, cousin/business partner Riley. He had all the charm, sass and sexy backtalk. I kept thinking, How could Nell fall for Gabe when Riley is obviously the sexier man?? Is she demented? She should've booted her confidante's (best friends hooking up with cousins, cozy.) ass out of the way and continued that affair, not just settled for a one night stand. Jeez! And to get Grumpy Gabe as a prize - tcha. The mental picture I had was hot, sexy, and determined redhead pairs off with Fraiser's Dad. that's just not my thing.
This didn't have the fun, the spark or interest as Temptation did. I'm willing to try one more Crusie, so I'll take suggestions from folks as to which one I should read. As my library only has the two Crusie's, this means I'll have to fork over actual cash for one, so be sure and recommend a good one for me ok. This is probably a lame ass review, but when I actually had to go and get the book to look up Riley's name because I'd already forgotten it, that there has to be a sign.
So there you go; a lackluster review for a lackluster story. I was rooting for it to get better, it just couldn't. Spread too thin and over extended.
Now, onto why I'm the meanest Mommy. I got a call from the school principal telling me Sassy was in trouble. She was found two days in a row scavenging through the other kid's schoolbags looking for food. She told the principal that her Mommy, that would be me, didn't give her any breakfast and she was hungry. She also didn't have any snacks in her bag. So she was left with no alternative but to steal candy from her classmate's schoolbags.
Now, I have blogged many times about the fights and struggles I go through to get Sassy to eat breakfast, I have actual documented proof that not only do I feed her breakfast but that she is the one who fights and says she's not hungry. I also put extra snacks in her bag so I know she has something to eat if she gets hungry; things like cereal bars, fruit and occasionally a packet of potato chips. Let me assure you, as I have assured her principal, on both days Sassy did eat breakfast, and she did leave with snacks. Sassy is a candy junkie. What she was doing was going through bags in search of a fix.
I sat her down, we had a long talk about the evils of stealing and the evils of candy. Her punishment was to write out 50 times "I will not steal" and she is banned from all sweets for a whole week. She is also to write a letter of apology to her friend who's candy she nicked, and to me for lying about my depriving her of meals. And I didn't yell once. She seems sufficiently cowed.
So I was out doing some grocery shopping and Christmas shopping yesterday. Bought lots of healthy things because all of us need to cut the sugar out, we've been naughty for weeks. So it was lots of veg, fruit and healthy snacks. I even splashed out on this treat I've been wanting to try for months but couldn't justify the cost. I got some Wasabi Beans which is a nice, crunchy burn to the nosehairs savoury snack. Excellent in salads or mixed into chex mix type snacks. So when I got them home I, of course opened them and had some; nippy, crunchy and hot! I then shared with the Hubs who also thought they were great, in small amounts.
I left the packet on the counter while I was putting away the rest of the shopping. Sassy walked in and saw me eating the beans from the bag. I said "MMmmm these are really good." and she walked away. I finished the shopping, and with a smug smile on my face, went to sit next to the Hubs on the sofa. Sassy went into the kitchen. I began to giggle. "What's so funny?" the Hubs asks me. "Sassy is about to sneak a few beans in her mouth, thinking they're yogurt covered raisins or something." "You're not going to stop her?" He asked "Hell no!" and just then we hear the sound of spitting and a bean skitter across the floor. Sassy races out of the kitchen and up the stairs right into the bathroom. "Everything ok sweetie?" I shout. "You are mean." chuckles the husband.
Later we asked her what she thought of the beans "Those are horrible! Disgusting! Mean Mummy, leaving them out." but she had an embarrassed smile on her face and damn it was worth it. I am a Mean Mummy.
Thursday, November 23, 2006
I was trawling about some of everyone's sidebar links and I was reading Rosina Lippi's page where she's posted up a wee meme that I'm going to steal because it's short and sweet.
1. Three songs you can — and do — listen to again and again.
2. Three movies you can — and do — watch over and over.
3. Three dishes you would choose for your last meal.
Mashed potato with tons of butter and chunky beef gravy.
Pizzaria Uno's Spinoccoli pizza pie.
4. Three most relaxing vacation spots you've ever visited.
Any beach, anywhere so long as it's warm.
Canoeing up the Nemasket river to swim (illegally) in Lake Assawompset (it's a resivoir)
5. Three books that you consider great reads.
Pride and Prejudice. (Watch Beth gag and sputter in disappointment)
To Kill a Mockingbird.
Any Calvin and Hobbes collection. Actually, add any Bloom County collections in there too. I love that penguin.
6. Three shows that you consider the best on television, past and present.
Gilligan's Island, was my childhood favourite.
Any episode of Columbo. (I like to shout "He did it he did it Columbo!!" because we always see the murder first. Is there any other show where you know who-done-it before the hero?)
Hope you enjoyed. Now - I have just spent an obscene amount of money on exercise underwear. Yes, why they charge a fortune for these things I'll never know - probably because there's someone like me suckered into paying it. But with the breasts getting into such nice shape, I don't want to risk sagging. I splashed out on a couple of Enell bras They are designed for larger sizes that do bouncy workouts. They're also designed for those who've had implants, but I at least qualify in the first part. I'm quite happy that even though I've gone from a 38FF to a 34E I've not got any sagging or skin puckering. As you can see from the link, this is a bulletproof bra, and I'll tell you now: Nothing bounces in it. It's very, VERY comfortable, I love it. Worth every penny. I also bought new underpants that won't creep up my asscheeks in it's aspirations to become a thong, or creep down my ass trying to escape. Sloggi are the best - the most comfortable, the longest lasting (I have some that are 7 years old and still awesome) and they stay put. Well worth the dosh. I'll not say how much I spent in case the Husband looks and has a coronary. But it was worth it. So worth it.
So did you all have a nice Thanksgiving? I didn't partake, and went to work last night. Made chicken pasta for easy meal, and am now swilling back a big pot of decaff coffee. I'll switch the real stuff at around 3pm before I go off for the late shift again tonight.
Nanowrimo has been a bust this year. Between dead computers, Mom's visit and the new job it just wasn't going to happen. I couldn't cram another 30k words in the last few days if I tried. I shall be better prepares next year. OR I may have my own private nanowrimo in March or something.
not sure how to wrap up this, so I'll just stop.
Tuesday, November 21, 2006
I want this to be neat, cool and great. But I'm feeling that, "oh hell, am I really getting old?" feeling again...kind of like when I saw the bespangled former singer of Van Halen (He Who Shall Not Be Named) doing a ho-down version of Jump. I cried I tell ya, cried like a wee baby. I used to fancy Roth (Oh hell I named him, tabasco on the tongue for me.) when I was teeniebopper. Now It's just shameful - is it any wonder our teenagers think we're a bunch of losers?? "Omigawd Ma, you liked David Lee Roth - Ewww in the extreme. You may not ever comment on any of my boyfriends." and she'd be justified (Also in reality she wouldn't know who he was and is more likely say "Who?" like I did through every episode of Laverne and Shirley about Fabian). I feel I owe a sincere apology to all of my friends in school who prefered Duran Duran, because they have aged much better...even if they do still wear make up and have blonde highlights and ruffled shirts, the pansies. (Duran Duran I mean, not my friends, well I dunno, they might wear make-up, highlights and ruffled shirts, but seeing as they're real, actual girls they don't count as pansies)
But damn, Billy still looks a bit sexy. Just corny in a "Darn I wish a Rat Packer!" way. Far cry indeed from Fly Me to the Moon to White Wedding.
No wait...Bing-bada-Bing sang White Christmas didn't he, and he wasn't a Rat Packer...I'm just all befuddled. White Christmas with the wicked lip curl; I need a brandy.
Monday, November 20, 2006
It's always weird to back to the house after she's left, and I walk about trying to find proof that she was really here at all - I need mementos, leftovers, forgotten things to covet for a bit while I get over my own "My Mommy's gone." sadness. I have found her bra, and a pair of socks. Not quite the mementos I was looking for but it's proof that she was here. So are the five packs of Marlboros she left. I'll have to find friends who smoke to palm them off to; for my own good.
I've lost my wedding ring. I'm crushed about it. I've not been wearing it much because it's too big now and falls off my finger, so I think it may have fallen out of my pocket at some point two weeks ago. I'll have to call the insurance company and go through the process of sorting it out. I'm sad though, I just want my ring back.
We're sitting around the house waiting for the UPS man to arrive with the Mac. It should be here today, or tomorrow, but the tracking service says today. It's on the truck. So long as they don't close the bridge due to gales or anything (I have an image of a merry parade of men and women named Gale/Gail/Gayle etc blocking traffic, playing music and dancing like Gay Pride, but Gail Pride instead.) Husband is bored and twitchy, he's trying to find ways to occupy his time but I keep catching him peering out the window looking for the first sign of the brown van coming down our street.
I have read Jennifer Crusie's Welcome to Temptation. It's a slow starter, but follows my cardinal rule of no cheap sex before page 100, she gets it in on page 110. The story starts out slow, and I found the introduction of so many characters a bit confusing and I got them all mixed up. Things like, why was the hot, handsome but smug news anchor doing shagging the old woman from the car crash?? But it was a different woman, not the old woman at all. I just couldn't keep them all straight, and even thought about writing out a character key to keep me right, but that would be too much effort, and not really my job. I put the book down a few times in the first 100 pages because my bad-book warning bells kept going off when Hero and Heroine kept saying over and over again, in thought italics, how much they didn't like, trust or want to be with that man/that woman. It felt like I was being reminded that they hated and distrusted each other at least every five pages.
It seems everyone has a bad side in this book, except the Hero, Phin. He's set up as over perfection, a well experienced sex god and patiently helpful Mayor of the small town of Temptation and good Dad, Good Son. Sophie, his Heroine, is bland. I just didn't like her at all. she fussed and worried and moaned the whole time. She's sneaky, sly and quite cowardly. The only time she showed some chutzpah was in the sack - Crusie can write excellent sex. Sophie was more interesting as a con artist, than a terrified good citizen/good girl.
The story is ok, there's a murder, that was a bit too easy to figure out and the visual descriptions were good. Lots of small town gossip that I can relate to, but the story still felt rough. It needed to lose a few characters, gain a bit more plot and add a lot more flirtation, because Phin was great at it. Dialogue was great, and I laughed out loud a couple times ("Come on Virginia, even Jello wiggles when you eat it." shocking and wonderful) I loved that they said "Fuck" instead of soppy love making talk - it was gritty, naughty, raw and sexy.
Despite what may sound like a depressing review of this book, I have to admit I liked it. I really did. It's flaws are forgiven for the dialogue and quotable gems. I thought it was funny how the story magically started to get easy and flow after the first sex scene, the writing was tense before that release. It was funny and entertaining and did it's job at keeping me from chewing my nails and overeating. I did find myself wanting to hurry up and finish chores/tasks/shopping so I could get back to my book. Since about halfway through, I've had this song stuck in my head. If they ever make a movie from this, they must use this song-it just fits. (I'm all Buffy nostalgic now...)
I'll read a few more Crusie books to get a full flavour of her style, just started Fast Women which has gotten off to a great start, save for the similar problem of so many characters thrown at me too soon. I may preempt my frustrations by getting a character key - there's far too many sister-in-laws and brother-in-laws already.
Thursday, November 16, 2006
Once, I was rushing about trying to catch up on the new storylines of General Hospital when I flung a popcorn bag in the microwave, but didn't pay attention the buttons I was pushing. I ended up burning it. the popcorn on the outer edges of the bag were ok, and the middle was charcoal. But it's the small layer in between that caught my attention. Now, I ate as much of that bag as I could, because waste of popcorn is not allowed. I discovered the perfect pieces of popcorn were the ones that were ever-so-slightly burnt, with just a tinge of char, a whisper of black over the crispy white mounds of corn. That was awesome popcorn.
It's like how the perfect toasted marshmallow is just brown and shiny, not black, but melted in the middle enough to be soft, but not melted to the stick so you end up pulling bits of bark off with it. It's a exercise in precision. So I've spent some time trying to find the precision with which to get a perfect bag of almost burnt popcorn. It's taken me a while, several years of research and many, many bags of charred snacks that set of fire alarms and got me scolded by parents and dormitory PAs. But I have found the secret.
See, it is a lesson in patience and attention. Ten seconds too long and it's all ruined, ten seconds too short and it's just a normal bag of popcorn. But put that bag in for two minutes and forty seconds and you get the perfection in the middle. Two minutes and forty seconds. Ten seconds longer is being greedy and over burns the middle bits, and I've had to learn that you can't play with the times too much - this is popcorn not chili. I have a 850watt microwave and the times works for both salt and sweet bags. For some reason buttered are never able to get a good burn on them, they may be just too greasy; which goes some to explaining the many failures I suffered in my youth. It's amazing what time, flavor technology, geneticlly engineered corn and patience can bring you when a dream is trying to be achieved.
I've also discovered the absolute best popcorn is Orville Redenbacher's Salt and Sweet. It's just awesome. It hits all the oral g-spots and the second it's swallowed you'll be cramming another handful into your mouth: it's that good. I've found it once, at Tesco about two weeks ago, have I found it again since? No! Can I find it on their website? No! Am I freaking the fuck out about it YES! I'm going to see if it's at Costco this weekend, because I've made due with mixing a bag of Butterkist salt with another of bag of just sweet, but it's not the same. Orville's got it best, the teasing bastard.
So there you are, the best popcorn, the best method and mouth joy guaranteed. Unless you're one of those pusspies who won't eat popcorn because it gets stuck in your teeth, because I find that all part of the charm, myself. An extra popcorn surprise that shows up when you least expect it. You can keep your bloody gums and dentistry nightmare stories to yourselves too. I'll only reply with: Two minutes and forty seconds.
Wednesday, November 08, 2006
Except now I see what my Mom wears for sneakers, and I'm jealous. My sneakers look lame and tacky compared to hers. Hers cost more than twice what mine did. She's trotting (as much as woman can trot with a newly replaced hip) about in these. And now I want some. They are dead ugly, I know they're very fashionable among the geriatrics of Florida but come on - they're like space shoes! How fun will it be to bounce-jog down the road? I bet Spielberg is wishing he'd used them in Back to the Future II.
I'll get them next year. Then, let people laugh, I'll be having fun. In my space-agey, geriatric-chic sneaks.
So I'm on the laptop again. Mom is here and do I really think I'm going to complete nanowrimo now? Yeah right.
Husband took the day off yesterday to get Mom from the airport with me (well for me as I don't drive) and he was quietly happy that the PC died. "Oh no. Darn. Guess we have to buy a new one now. heh heh heh." but he began his confusing spin out of, do we buy this bit or that bit will this work blah blah. Finally I just said the words he's been desperate to hear for years "Just buy the Mac."
"What'd you say?"
"Just do it. Buy the Mac. The big one. The £1400 one. Just go and buy it."
"Don't tease me woman, are you sure about this?" (who could say no to the childish gleam of new toy joy and excitement in his eyes)
"Yup. Go do it now if you want. You have the day off, so just go buy it."
"No, I'll order it up online and get this blah blah that blah...."
Well he's never been happier. He's reassured me we'll pay it off in a year. I'm not sure which one it is, all I know is its got all of its guts in the 24" monitor and a super good graphics card that's Doom3 worthy (it's how we judge the quality of such things - is it able to play Doom?) So now I'm sure LBB and NWJR will be happy to welcome a new Mac family member, and you'll have to share your hints and tips and helpful websites for me to visit.
I just know the house is going to look silly with a 24 inch monitor next to a 28 inch TV. It just screams nerdy-dorkishness and a lack of decorative design flair. But it's done. And it'll be delivered around the 22nd.
I'm off to the gym this morning. I need it very, very much. In my new sneakers too dontchyaknow.
Tuesday, November 07, 2006
Monday, November 06, 2006
I peeked in onto the nanowrimo website to feel guilty because I've not typed anything for a few days, but I have handwritten lots. I haven't a word count though, how anal would that be to word count whilst creating a story - UberNerd of the Savant calibre. So on the website, I read a minute snippet about a writer who is also a mystic. she gets story ideas by reading tarot cards. I said "Hey! I do that too!" and thought how neat it was that someone else did. I don't think I've ever mentioned that I can read tarot cards. Probably because if you are someone who can read tarot, but doesn't do it for a living, you become a target for tarot scroungers. Folks will ask you to parties and add "Oh, and bring your cards!" and at that point you are no longer an invited a guest, but part of the entertainment for the evening. Not fun.
But from a writing perspective, they really are a useful tool. Now let me just preface this all with: I do not believe that tarot cards allow someone to speak with the dead, I do not attribute them any kind of mystical, magical connection to the unseen universes and nor do I think they are instruments of evil. They are cards; paper and ink. They have a story attached to each card. When you line up a few cards together, the story unfolds into a longer story. You can have multiple characters, tragedies, excitements, sex, adventure, parenthood and travel all in there. The fact that when you read these card in front of someone and they see themselves in the storyline, really speaks volumes about where they feel they are in this world. I think tarot card reading is hogwash, and hoaxism. I like them for their storytelling.
I will usually do a simple three card spread, and try to find the hidden story between them: there is always one. This helps to keep the creative juices flowing, it also helps if I get stuck on a storyline or feel it's a bit dull. If I find the story has more to tell I'll add another card. I don't do any of these classic card spreads, but I could, I suppose to find personality elaborations. I find the cards open up my own ability to create. I'm the kind of person who gets bogged down on details and lose the flow of the story. This card reading kind of breaks the spell of repetitive spellchecking and grammar attacks.
I'll offer up an example three card spread. I'm using the The Quick and Easy deck because it has all of the descriptions on the cards - cheating, sure but it's quick and easy you see. I've just pulled out (Was going to say laid but I know what some of you would've thought - not that "pulled out" is much better) Strength(upside down), Knight of Swords, and The King of Wands. So what does this tell me. Well I simply read the cards first (literally, because the answers are written on them)...
Strength (usd) - You are tempted to abuse power and to take immoral actions. you are your own worst enemy. You have a weak character, and pessimistic attitude. Lack of courage causes lost opportunities. Personality flaws cause disaster in both love and business. Angry outbursts and lost composure compromises your reputation. Beware of a selfish woman.
Knight of Swords - A man under forty is about to enter your life. Conceals his emotions. Has a military demeanor. Disciplined. Supremely confident. Has courage and a good heart. Responsible, shrewd and alert. Planner, engineer, designer, builder or architect.
King of Wands - Denotes a handsome, charismatic and bold man over forty who has a commanding presence and strong convictions. Strong leadership skills. Attracts attention wherever he goes. Takes action and gets results. A creative, innovative man who is open to new concepts.
So now the fun begins. Strength is our heroine, and what a piece of work she sounds like. Hotheaded, selfish and immature. She lacks courage, so there must be a vulnerable, frightened part of her that she covers up with bark and bravado. She's had a hard life and some hard knocks have taught her not to trust anyone. Beware a selfish woman...who could that be? A sister? Her Mother? A highschool former BFF who was seriously cheesed off Stregth had the nerve to snog her Danny on prom night?! Perhaps this is the root of her distrust and bleak outlook on life. Sounds to me like she needs someone to help her. someone like...
Well look here we have two very good contenders for her heart don't we. One who is youthful, organised and earthy and another who is more show-offy and confident. Which one will suit her personality better? Which one will love her and respect her? Which one will try and control her and bend her to his will? Does she even want rescued? What if she is actually trying to get into business with the King and is using her seductive powers to achieve her ends, but his son, the Knight, can see through her ploys and tries to save the family business and somehow he finds this other woman who will be Strength's downfall. Yeah, he uses some his former military training to become a P.I. and investigates her background. So...now it's a mystery? Crime novel? OOoooo a murder mystery crime novel with a smidgeon of romance! Endless options.
This is how the stories start. The plotlines begin to jump out at you, you can almost see these people in your mind's eye already. They're not real people, or ghosties. They are fictional, and have been shone into existence by the amazing creativity of the card wielder(Oh yes I have ego troubles...as well you know). This is no different than using the phone book to find interesting character names.
The great part is, if you don't like how a story is playing out, just shuffle and try again. Shuffle away and then let a story come to you that needs to be told.
Smart Bitches Day is hosted by the beautiful and charming Beth, have something to say about books, writing or have a book review to share then post it up and let Beth know so you'll be added to list.
Sunday, November 05, 2006
|What American accent do you have? |
Your Result: Boston
|The Inland North|
|What American accent do you have?|
Take More Quizzes
I guess 11 years in Scotland hasn't changed me too much. But I no longer say "Wicked Pissa", they just don't get it. Read this for more about Bostonians, it's fab. This one is a bit more for the linguist in you, and I know there is one. there's one in all of us. Stop iugnoring your inner linguist, you'll piss them off and they'll make you stutter or make Freudian slips as punishment.
Thursday, November 02, 2006
So i had a great sleep last night and even got treated to a nice dream! It was great, one of my favourites: the falling in love dream. boy meets girl and there's sparks and attraction that comes right out from the soul and the polite and friendly flirtations that scream purity of heart. He asks her out and her heart just swells as she blushes and says "Yeah, sure. That'd be great." He's the strong silent type who shows he's nervous despite how much he wants to disguise it. (Actually in my dream he was The Rock which is someone I've never thought about him in that way but, evidently the subconscious has other ideas.) and it was all that sweet and innocent falling love and getting to know each other phase that was great. I love that bit. I'll be floating about on the memory of those emotions for the rest of the day.("I'd like to take you for a steak dinner on Friday if you're free." he asked me. I thought, wow. Steak. But the company will be better. I said yes. I was, at the time, climbing over a wall with Rosie O'donnell (that'll be LBB's fault) because a van was blocking the only exit to the road, and we were sitting on the top of the wall when he just showed up and asked me all sweet and shy but with firm voice bravado. It was nice.)
I've overdone the weights this week and I'm really sore. I've not been able to jog because my pecs ache when my breasts bounce. Don't laugh at me - it's not very funny. It's all owie and sore. I'm just having an hour of cardio today and no weights. I'll use the other hour to rough up some more of Garfalo. I got a page and a half typed last night on the laptop, but have handwritten many more, almost the first chapter. so far so good. I don't hate any of my characters yet and none of them are rebelling against my plotlines.
Husband managed to fix the PC in less than a minute last night. He pulled out a faulty memory stick and bing, click, whirr it was working again. i knew that would happen. The PC, all of them since the beginning of time, break when I get near them. I have a very scatty aura that send machines haywire. Ask my Husband, he'll tell you. I'm a technology jinx. No really. lets see if I can list the things that've broken in the past 11 years. We've had three televisions, eight computer upgrades at least, three washing machines, four coffee makers, four alarm clocks, three hair dryers, three microwaves, three vacuums, three toasters, two hair straighteners....I could go on but I think you get the idea. It's not like I'm a klutz who drops these things or abuses them in any way, they just don't like me. What tends to happen is I try and use them and they won't work no matter what I do. I leave it for a couple hours, break the bad news to Husband who simply turns the thing on and it works again. This causes me extreme frustration. It's a mean trick of my life. I have a strict no touching rule when i go to other people's homes because I don't want to break their stuff too.
So, cardio only today, writing in the notebook, some typing later on, dinner ready before four and them I'm out to work tonight. busy busy!!
Wednesday, November 01, 2006
I will soldier on though, this is what life is about right? Writing is like this. We give our characters a challenge, and then throw a few problems at them to see how they get around it. Obviously my author has decided to toss rocks at me instead, thanks, but I'll get through it. I still have my laptop, even though I despise it. It's awful for word processing because I can't stop my thumbs from dragging across the little doodle pad thing and I'll notice I've moved the cursor two paragraphs up and am now inserting new text into it - makes this an editing nightmare. I'll have to figure out how to disable the scribble pad, but I'm too lazy or just can't be bothered and decided to just suffer it which is dumb really because who needs that frustration? Certainly not me, nuh-uh no way.
So, I've decided to go with my children's book which is something of a Mozart/Little Man Tate meets Harry Potter/Matilda, of course having just finished HP(and Matilda as I've been chapter reading it to SassyFace) has inspired this decision, but I have been working on it for about six months off and on. It came to me in a dream to be honest, just a boy, his Sassy-face-esque attitude and his name; Garfalo Crummie. I don't know why but I love this name, and how neat it came to me in a dream! That's like Kismet that is, it'd be a sin not to use it.
So I'll probably be ink-n-papering a lot of the story and then typing it until I stroke out from frustration on the laptop. It'll Garfalo, his Mom, a good guy, a bad guy who may be Garfalo's dad or uncle or something but certainly a blood relative (I feel torn about this because I don't like dead mother stories and so don't want to write a dead Father story because that would be hypocritical, but JKR did it with perfection, Harry's Mom died in such a noble, brave way that I accept it completely. It's not like she just died and everyone forgot about her. If I could get that to work, I'll do it.)
Now, on a positive note, I've been doing lots of weights exercises concentrating on the supportive muscles around the breasts. Pectorals, shoulders, traps and upper arms. Can I just say that two months of effort has made a shocking change. I'm sporting a top rack, let me tell you! And as much as I'd love to show them off in all their glory, because my pride is deep, I'm not going to. But I pass the pencil test now - that's all I'm saying, and I've not been able to do that since....ever. I once was able to hold a desk sized stapler under there. I've now got perky. I hop about singing the perky song and dancing the perky dance.
Awright Garfalo, it's just you and me for the next four weeks.
***Edit - Shorty is learning her colours. She was going through a box of markers and pulling each one out and announcing its colour to my hearty approval and applause, when she picks up a turquoise marker and shouts "Look Mummy, look: A Tortoise! Tortoise Mummy!"
Aren't kids great.