Oh please, not this stuff again!!!

All these lovely snowflakes!!

Time to cuddle up, get out the wool lap throws, and read! Yes, I have stacks of research material in neat piles sitting on the coffee table, bedside table, library shelves, anywhere a book or magazine can linger. All of them waiting for me.

Sort of like the garden is waiting for me to finish the winter clean up. Ha.

Did I mention I adopted another little Pug? Duke is recovering well from hip dysplasia surgery and hops about on his three good legs. Only 18 months old and he is a sweet little guy who loves to snuggle next to me under the woolen lap throws watching me on the computer. He and Diva and Divot are good pals and sleep together in their large dog crate at night.

This month is moving way too fast and it seems there are not enough hours to accomplish all I’ve set up for myself.

I am reading Philip Kerr’s fictional mysteries set in Nazi Germany. He does a great job of capturing the cultural nuances of living in an authoritarian state.

I am also reading professor Bob Altemeyer’s book on line (free) called The Authoritarians. http://members.shaw.ca/jeanaltemeyer/drbob/TheAuthoritarians.pdf

Yes I am interested in human behavior and how to capture the essence of certain personality traits for some of my characters.

Like I said it is time to get in some much neglected research.

Cheers, stay warm and enjoy your family and friends, both your two legged and four legged types! :D

Change of Colors

Arizona Blue Ice loaded w/pine cones

Soaking up a sun-break

Thanksgiving with the Blue Heron

For the past few years a large blue/grey bird stops by my fish pond just after dawn. This stately heron is an expert fisherman and only shows up in November. He is hoping to spear breakfast. I have mixed feelings about his arrival. It’s getting cold, rains are increasing and wherever he came from its obvious the food supply is dwindling.

My neighbor has an elegant statue of a white heron near her fountain (no fish in hers.), and I have wondered if the “big blue” is first attracted by the decoy and maybe he uses it as a sort of local landmark when he flies over. “Oh yeah, I remember there’s a decent fish pond in that other yard. Think I’ll stop by for breakfast!”

Mind you the first two years he ate up all my little goldfish. I realized this pattern was going to probably become an annual event. Thanksgiving serves up sashimi. Not. It won’t be served again. I was ready the next year and the first morning he arrived I shoed him off and draped bird netting over the pond. The heron keeps returning. My new fish are large and fat and beautiful and he can’t eat them!!!

I wait till he shows up before laying out the netting. The bird sets the time. It is wonderful to watch such a large creature land in the garden. And more spectacular to watch him launch himself into the air on those beautiful wings, and somehow get his gangly body airborne. He just can’t have thanksgiving in my yard anymore J

This is the month to be thankful, thankful “big blue” will go elsewhere for his snacks; and as far as writing goes, thankful I am over half way to the finish line. In my constant search for information relating to my science themes I have figured out what “net” to cast around my characters and plot. It has all finally taken form and I am thankful, thankful, for this breakthrough! ­­­­

A Pug Party

Pups in the shade

October necessities

Before the serious Pacific Northwest rains, and general nasty weather, kick into high gear I have several unfinished projects which need attention.

Like a basket filled with large fuzzy yellow/green quince ready to be cooked up for jam.

All the glass towers in the garden need disassembling and stored on their special shelf in the barn.

Thirty allilum bulbs must find a dark welcoming place six inches under the ground.

The vast hanging tapestry of hops which cover the side of the barn must be cut at ground level. To think I started this experiment with tiny starts, only three years ago . . . wow, it is more of a success than I ever imagined. I don’t pull down the dead vines as I want them to act as a scaffolding to cover the barn side. The hops smell and taste like beer. Maybe next year it’s time to try making real brew!

My writing is on hold until I finish the two research books I am simultaneously reading. The challenge will come when I finish them and have to decide which scientific elements in my plot I want to focus on. Select a theme and do a rewrite. My story is an urban fantasy; however I have focused on elements of science and nature and need to be accurate in most situations, and let my imagination run rampant in other situations. I ask myself how far I want to push the boundaries between genuine science and fantasy. The fascinating truth is developments in science are now presenting the world with scenarios which could only be thought of as science fiction . . . yet are reality.

Anyone for toast with homemade quince jam???

Oh yes, I am fostering a young Pug. He escaped from his yard, ran three miles in a rain storm and ended up at my home. His owner gave him to me as he was left home alone with little attention. He is a sweetie and needs an FHO operation (femoral head ostectomy) on his left leg. He is only 15 months old and already has hip dysplasia. Tomorrow I will schedule the surgery for him. I think he has found his forever home right here with my other two Pugs. Sometimes synchronicity strikes and you have to do the right thing. How amazing he ran to a place where two other Pugs live!!!

I hosted a Pug luncheon and he got to meet ten other Pugs who were one big family with their humans in tow. It was lovely and a perfect day in the garden.

Pugs forever !!!!

Lavender and a glass tower

Brothers and sisters

September 2010

A friend recently asked me how I write. Over the years I have tried several methods from specific times of day to meeting specific daily word counts. And of course I promptly set out to sabotage the rules and time sheets.

It all seems to get down to how I feel. Grumpy from waking up at three am thinking about a plot twist, I may only write a grumpy scene. Cheerful because the sun is shining I may write an uplifting scene. The main task is to write something, anything, because the act itself is a process which helps me feel centered and whole. It is what I love doing.

I do try to have some type of icon or object relating to my story nearby. Two little metal statues from India are currently within reach and whenever I look up I see them. Figures which remind me of the world I am trying to create.

Gardening is also within reach! This year it has been a sad, sad year for fruit trees and some vegetables. The weather has not cooperated at all. On the other hand the slugs are running amok. And they come out at night by the hundreds and clean up debris in the garden. Yes, I have learned to not tempt them with plants they love unless it is vegetables then I use slug bait which is safe to use around pets.

Speaking of pets . . . I took care of my daughter’s two Pugs for ten days. This meant I had four Pugs and two Papillons. Meal times were interesting! Six bowls spaced apart and I had to stand patiently by to make sure the “kids” behaved and sure enough I had to banish my seven year old six pound Papillon from the eating circle because he tried to sneak around and grab tidbits which fell out of other dog’s dishes. Two of the Pugs took him to task over this and I made sure the trouble maker ate by himself in another room. Reminded me of teaching grade school kids!

Back to writing. I always have two Pugs within reach ;)

Shallot spires

Shallot blooms

Moving Things Around

Old time, experienced gardeners, have told me that at some point I will start to, yank out and move plants and trees around. Nah, I thought to myself, won’t happen. Once I dig a hole and plop something into it, it’s going to stay in place forever. Period.

Hmmmm. I need to eat a whole plate of humble pie on this subject. This summer II have dug up not one plant, but hundreds, in the process of redoing two large beds. The iris have taken over and run amuck. Gorgeous bearded flowers have multiplied beyond reason. Time for the shovel. After a few days of diligent work they are neatly cut and mounded in separately labeled boxes ready to find a new beginning at a professional landscaper’s home.

The joy for me is to know they will grace another gardener’s yard and I will keep a few special iris to accent corners and odd places.

A writer also has move things around. Like whole chapters to get the story line to flow in a more cohesive manner. I held my breath while doing this and set the newly rearranged manuscript aside for several days before going back to read it through. Phew, it worked! Scary moments when doing the rearranging, but the results are great.

The new garden beds and my paragraphs will be the better for the move.

Beauty

Beasties

Dogs and butterflies are excellent companions in my garden. I treasure and welcome both with laughter and surprise. Laughter for the dogs when they run and chase imaginary intruders under the bushes and around the trees. Surprise pounces when I turn a corner to find a spectacular winged creature alight on one of my favorite plants. Talk about an artistic color splash!

My writing is directly connected to the world surrounding me. Dogs meander into my story lines and the tendrils of nature and biology creep and plant roots in my scenes. They keep me mindful of how immediate change is and how much of the natural world I tune out when writing.

The dogs insist on my accompanying them in the garden. No lazy opening the door and shooing them to take care of doggie business is allowed. They stand and wait for me on the porch, as if I were holding up the tour group about to embark on a safari into the green and leafy terrain just a few steps away. I'm often glad they drag me away from my computer and the word wrangling process.

The dogs consider me family and we are in this adventure together.

The scary intruder!!!

Into our garden he leaps!!!

Peacocks, Pugs, and the Police

The first inkling the neighborhood was under attack was the ear shattering wake- everybody-up screech, at five am. The dogs didn’t know what the heck the sound was and went on hyper alert barking and yodeling like crazy. By the time I got dressed and opened the back door the screech had blared across the tree line two more times and the dogs hightailed it outside ready to defend their turf.

Of course no villain could be found and an eerie silence descended like something awful was waiting to pounce. I recognized the sound immediately from my childhood. My mother had guinea hens and peacocks. They are a great deterrent to strangers coming on rural property. Sort of like feathered burglar alarms. But our neighborhood has no peacocks, only little birds like finches and robins, geese, mallards, and hummingbirds. Quiet, little sounding birds.

I had forgotten how loud a mature peacock’s call is. It made me think of a science article I recently read where paleontologists have used CT –scanning on the crested part of the skeletal head of a Duck-Billed dinosaur, and have a pretty good idea it would sound like a horn blowing. Sort of like a peacock on steroids. You could say the peacock’s blaring, shattering, screech was a modern day dinosaur invading the neighborhood.

Ah, but where was it lurking? Two hours later the police and animal control were on the scene and the next thing I knew the incredible creature had flown into my back garden and was strutting around the rim of the fountain in all his iridescent splendor!

The dogs were in the house and could see this monster in THEIR yard! The police (with my invitation to enter the garden) were following the wayward villain. The scenario went from amazing to hilarious. The peacock was magnificent, with his tail spreading out behind him and he seemed to delight in teasing the two patrol officers armed only with a large fish net. No way in hell were they going to snare that bird in that puny net, a salmon maybe, but not the descendent of dinosaurs!

The bird led them around the garden and back towards the house and next thing I knew the neon feathered prince casually walked up the steps of the back deck. He got half way up and realized four little dogs were going ballistic behind the sliding glass door and the cops were almost within netting range. Oh, terror, what would the dinosaur do?

He took a giant hop off the deck, left the young officer to lunge in vain with his paltry net, and took flight. Over the fence and into the neighbor’s yard. For the rest of the day the police and the feathered dinosaur kept up a game of hide and seek. The peacock of course won.

The next two mornings the bird welcomed the sun with his ear shattering call. Each morning I could tell how far away he had ventured. On the fourth morning all was quiet with only normal bird calls. Bland calls and trills, nothing exciting, nothing which makes you sit up in bed wondering what the hell just happened outside.

As for writing, it is always a welcome event when an unexpected “feathered dinosaur” invades the storyline and shakes things up! Especially if it is as spangled and iridescent as a male peacock strutting around showing off.

Where the Coyotes are

Where the Pugs are

Unexpected Consequences

Behind our property is a huge meadow which provides food and shelter for small game and wildlife. In the late afternoons a Marsh hawk often glides silently across the hillocks looking for field mice. On warm sunny mornings I have occasionally spotted a coyote napping on a favorite outcropping. Once I saw two coyotes that looked as if they had curled up together to sleep off their “all- nighter”. They are diligent about getting up well before noon to jog into the tree lined gully.

My little Pugs are well attuned to the night sounds of the coyotes raucous howling and chattering when the wild pack heads out on their late night grocery run. The Pugs either bark furiously or try and answer with their domestic version of yodeling. They do a pretty good imitation too boot.

This week the natural history channel had a program on Yellowstone National Park’s coyotes and foxes. The minute the coyotes started vocalizing the Pugs dashed out the dog door sure they were being invaded by their wild cousins. They knew that sound! Not finding anything outside in the garden they came back inside to sit and stare at the TV screen. Sure enough the minute they saw a coyote they charged the screen and/or dashed back outside. It was simply too much excitement for them and such an unexpected distraction I switched to a different channel.

Writers sometimes experience a fictional character whose actions cause unexpected consequences. When this happens to me I usually try to follow the direction the character is going. This means I need to write unexpected bridge scenes and trust the outcome will be okay. And sometimes these bridge scenes lead to substantial unexpected results, and more scenes. Word count adds up quickly!

Canines, (esp. Pugs) and fictional characters provide endless moments of entertainment!

Hellebore

Vinca minor

*HAPPY SPRING TO EVERYONE *

The Vinca minor in my garden produces bright periwinkle blue flowers, not to mention it is an aggressive ground cover. It has crept into my row of lavender plants. Grrrr. Not what I intended when I planted the Vinca. This means hours of painstaking hand weeding and I foresee this will be a situation I will have to address on a continuous basis.

The Vinca is doing a great job of covering the north side of the berm; however the lavender is planted along the crown of said berm, and I didn’t realize this sweet little vine would spread so fast. It’s trying to take over!

In writing, background information on a character, can creep in like a determined ground cover and take up several scenes before the writer realizes what the heck just happened. Needless to say I am weeding both plants and words this month. Somehow I managed to transform parts of the lengthy back story into a scene with dialogue, and will drop in the rest of the information in upcoming scenes.

This process isn’t easy since I love the back story and have held on to it for months. I have to thank one of my eagle eyed critique partners to reveal the obvious….silly me, I thought I could slip it by her professional eyes. NOT.

This back story is important to the main protagonist. I have ripped it all apart and put it back together as the opening scene which introduces this character. I had to fast forward the motive of the character for the scene and I think it works much better.

Weeding plants and words is never ending ;D

PS. The Hellebore is a well behaved and beautiful plant, flowering in spring's chilly weather.

Primrose

Crocus

Frog Songs

It’s easy to tell when spring is here. The minute the sun goes down the frogs begin their noisy raucous singing. Thousands of amphibian voices swell and fling their songs across the wet lands and ponds. They begin their informal acapella groups in the irrigation ditches and the reservoir. I expect they will start belting it out in my pond any time.

It takes a little getting used to when they seem to share my pillow at night croaking in my ear! The Pugs aren’t sure what to make of all the racket and they absolutely have it in for the frog croaking under the deck steps. He’s sooo close and yet impossible to get at. Out damn frog! Out we say!

The wonderful mocking bird is back trumpeting out his territory just before dawn. Robin scouts have returned and so have the first of the song birds. Spring flowers splash their colors to the blue sky. What a difference from last years’ horrid cold which took out so many of my garden plants. This is a new season and I look forward to what the garden does.

I am over fifty thousand words into the new manuscript. This amount of words crept up on me faster than I expected. Sort of like spring. One blink and I am half way to finishing the story. I can feel the energy building to finish the first draft. Then comes the weeding and cutting. The hard work.

Writing and gardening have much in common. Frog songs included. ;D

Contorted Hazelnut Catkins

Crocus

This is the month of hearts and chocolate. Yep, no doubt about it; in the midst of cold weather and rainy days we can smile in anticipation of at least one morsel of the richest, melt on your lips and fingertips, confectionary! I confess to eating at least four pieces in rapid succession J

Anticipation seeps into each day when I walk around the garden. Crocus’ and snowdrops are like tiny jewels scattering their bright colors across a landscape of drabness.

Catkins hang from the contorted Hazelnut like elegant pieces of jewelry. The hundreds of daffodils I planted several months ago are peeking out of the ground. Colors and perfumes are on the way!

Anticipation warms my fingertips when they fly across the keyboard coaxing ideas and thoughts from my imagination and bringing life to my writing. I have recently resolved a huge plot dilemma and now I can’t wait to sit down and move the story forward.

Creative power is a heady perfume, not unlike the tiny white flowers of the sweet Sarcococca casting its joy across the garden.

Got to love February –it points the way to spring!

Curly Willow

2010 FRESH START and a BLUE MOON

Ah ha, it’s a New Year. And we had a blue moon (a second full moon in a month). This only happens once every twenty eight years on New Year’s Eve. It is also time to take action and shake off the hibernating, eating too much gremlins. Walk the dogs more ;-)

It is time to get out in the garden, prune trees and bushes,(like the Curly Willow shown above), collect debris, and decide if plants need to be moved. I know of four large heather plants which will benefit from a fresh start in a new location.

Two secondary characters in my writing need a fresh start. I realized a favorite pastime of one of my secondary characters may/most likely, is best suited to another character. I have been shuffling these changes around in my brain for days. Secondary characters are important. They serve numerous purposes and their actions affect not only plot movement but elements for the main characters to push up against.

I will most likely write several scenes with the changes and see which feels right. I have promised myself to make the new start for these characters and not feel guilty about taking away something from one character and giving it to the other. As a writer I hold great power in my hands and also feel like a parent wanting to do the right thing by my creations. Dang, but making this fresh start is painful.

Ooh, already this is a New Year angst!