March 31st, 2009 § § permalink
Brian and I gifted each other with the same thing for Christmas two years ago: ceramic bird houses made in Germany. It wasn’t intentional. We’d seen them while out together one day and both secretly returned to the store to purchase the nests as a surprise. Oddly, neither of us guessed that the identically shaped boxes under the tree housed identical gifts. We had a good laugh about it. I guess it’s inevitable when two people are married that they become more and more alike.
Now, to lure the birds. Last year we hung the bird homes too late in the season. The birds had already done all the work and had no interest in the lovely ceramic eggs hanging in the trees outside the cabin.
This year will be different. I dragged the ladder out and hung the homes in good time, my hands freezing as I climbed the icy metal rungs and balanced to place the nests in strategic locations. One is outside the window of the cabin. The other is hanging in a hemlock beside the picnic bench. How wonderful it would be to see a family of chickadees going about their business – and they watching us go about ours. And then I have to wonder…how small is a chickadee egg…?
March 25th, 2009 § § permalink
Is there anything nicer than a curious little kitten? This happy boy is the proud owner of Naiya, a ten-week old Bengal kitten. Watching Naiya grow is going to be so fun. She took to her human charge immediately and they have already become fast friends. Welcome to the family, Naiya!
March 17th, 2009 § § permalink
You have to love these guys. They’re doing it on their own terms, moving silently, environmentally through the city to pick up and deliver packages for all us folks.
I’m always nervous when I put a manuscript in the mailbox. Will the courier come? Should I stake out the front porch and wait just to be sure? Will the mailman understand that the package is for the courier and not the regular mail? And when you refrain from looking for a bit, and then the package is mysteriously gone, you have to wonder…did the courier take it? Or someone else…? These are the questions that keep writers up at night…well…this writer, anyway. I await news from my editor that the eagle has landed…
March 17th, 2009 § § permalink
I just finished another edit of Gravity. It’s amazing how I’m still finding things that need to be changed. I’m not talking typos; I’m talking continuity errors. It’s a strange alchemy, reading and re-reading something over and over and over. How is it possible I missed these things the first hundred passes?
I was actually looking at the manuscript in an effort to cipher the correct percentages needed to reduce the size of the drawings so they fit within the context of the new font and page size. This is no easy task, because I have no idea what the final product will look like. A drawing of a chick on my double-spaced Times New Roman pages looks great at 4 centimetres. But how will that same chick look on half the page with smaller print in a totally different font? Hmmm….
I’m just hoping I have the chance to move things around a little more once the changes are keyed in. But art departments are notoriously cantankerous and I won’t hold my breath. What I’d really like to do is hang over their shoulders with a double latte and give guidance as to how the whole thing should look…yeah…
March 10th, 2009 § § permalink
Whenever things get a little weird or stressful, I reach for a ball of the old yarn. I’m not sure exactly what it is about knitting, but as soon as I hold those needles in my hands, my mind instantly relaxes. Maybe it’s the methodical rhythm of the needles, or the feel of the yarn between my fingers, I’m not sure. But somewhere betwixt wool and wood, a gentle alchemy happens and my troubles fade away.
To spin a yarn is an expression for telling a story and in my mind there are few things as gratifying as seeing your knitting project unfold like a well-told tale.
In MacBeth, Shakespeare wrote, “…innocent sleep, sleep that knits up the raveled sleave of care…” How I love that line!
And so, I knit. And somewhere along the line, the project blossoms and claims its owner. Who is this hat for? I’ll know soon enough if I just keep knitting…