Tag: fun

Summer projects for the road

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When our family goes on vacation, we almost always drive, no matter how far we’re going — a couple years ago, we drove from Pennsylvania up to British Columbia, down the Pacific coast, then back across the country to go home. This gives us ample time to listen to audiobooks (seems to be the only time my husband and I listen to Tess Gerritsen), although some books are too complex for anything but routine driving conditions (Oryx and Crake, Blue). The other thing it gives me time for is creating something with my hands.

On previous trips, I’ve knitted sweaters, crocheted and knitted bookmarks, even crocheted doilies (not that I keep any out on our tables). It keeps me busy, and it also helps recharge my muse because I’m indulging in a form of creation that doesn’t require words.

I’ve decided to do something different for our next trip: circular patchwork (see Carol Britts program for pictures to give you an idea). I’ll have to prep all the materials ahead of time — circles, batting, squares — but as I create each block, it’s already quilted. Single blocks can be readily held on my lap, and even joining finished squares into strips should be feasible in the car.

I’m not a hand pieced or quilter — it takes too long. I’d rather use a machine and have a finished product. So many calls on my time! On a trip, though, I’ll have time. I’ll also be developing a new skill. Will I be able to finish a quilt on a trip? No idea, but I can at least start and see how far I get.

The hardest part? May be going through my fabric stash and deciding what to work with!

M is for mystery, mayhem, and murder

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When I joined GSHW, one of the questions I was asked was, “How many bodies, and where have you hidden them?” My response (I don’t remember whether it actually showed up in the newsletter):

Um, let’s see . . . two with a chainsaw, one was burned to death, I lost track of the knife ones, and there are at least a few with a sword. Some had their hearts ripped out by a werewolf. At least one death by poisoning. Most of a clutch destroyed by a game. Oh, then there’s this planet . . . I kill people a lot. You were talking about fiction, right?

I still haven’t gotten around to killing the planet; that’s an SF novel that’s on the to-do list for some time. On the other hand, I have bumped off a couple more people with blunt objects to the head. That’s all I can think of at the moment.

I’ve maimed some others. Carved things in people’s skin. Taken away people’s memories. Threatened to toss them off flying ships. Being a writer is fun!

Not everything has been finished. Not everything that has been finished has been accepted for publication somewhere.

Doesn’t matter. I’m having fun writing it. The next time you see me and I have an evil grin on my face, don’t ask why. The odds are good I’m planning another killing.

chip off the old block party

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This past weekend, there was a neighborhood block party.

When the invitation for the block party first showed up, I was of two minds about it. I like our neighbors, don’t get me wrong. Always enjoy talking to them, say “hi” in passing, that sort of thing. On the other paw, I’m not big on socialization. Or more to the point, I’m reluctant to socialize, even though I almost always enjoy it.

So when my husband said it would be fun to go, I agreed, and it was pure mischance that the form to RSVP with disappeared until the last possible minute. I swear. I put it on the refrigerator door. I didn’t know that my daughter would play with the magnet and not notice that the paper hit the floor and slid under the fridge, right?

The instigation for the block party was the number of new people in the neighborhood — four new families this summer, and even those of us who’ve been here half a dozen years are relative newcomers. This was fabulous — I wanted to meet at least one of the families, as I knew they have a daughter close in age to our girl’s age, and whenever I’ve stopped by, they haven’t been home.

At the party, the girls were highly non-impressed with each other at first.

They began bonding over potato chips, as they stood at the side-dish table and helped themselves from the serving bowl. Then my daughter wondered why she was sharing, grabbed the bowl, and went to sit down elsewhere.

Later, they met up again by the drinks table, where they were fishing ice chips out of the tub being used to cool bottles. They were so cute the father of the other girl went over to get their picture — and snapped one just as the girls each grabbed a bottle of wine from the tub. It’s a terribly cute photo, and we all agreed that we’re in so much trouble when they get older.

All in all, I’m glad we went. Now I’ve got names to put to those faces when I say hello. And I didn’t even take any notes on characters to use in future stories.

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