As usual, June is flying by. Between MisCon and 4th of July, it always seems like I’m flying around getting things wrapped up for the end of the school year and then jumping into summer stuff. It’s no different now that I’m working online instead of in a classroom. OTOH, I’m less tired from working online, so that’s a win.
The late spring meant we’ve been dragging on getting the garden running and getting in the wood. But at last, we got the garden finished off in early June and it is happily growing at our friend S’s place in Clatskanie. This past week in Enterprise, we did get two loads of wood hauled, plus horse show stuff…
But there’s so much to blog about and I keep putting it off because, well, who wants to spam the linkage? I’m thinking now that I need to write some things but just not publish them. The alternative is not blogging at all…and I am discovering that I really don’t like that option, either.
So yeah. Time to start writing blog posts and timing them. I will post one soon talking about the two short pieces I have available on preorder right now. I also want to post about politics, because I’m contemplating a few things. I also want to write and post something about a few things I’ve been considering about writing process that has solidified to some extent by now. And then I also want to blog about the horse.
Meanwhile, I’m putting this one up. Hopefully we’ll see a flurry of posting soon.
Mirrored from Peak Amygdala.
More cornflowers sighted, first goatsbeard, mock orange smelling up the place. Rhododendrons done, seed heads on the curled dock turning brown. More roses.
No identifiable roadkill, just blood patches on the asphalt. Cleanup crew is fast.
Got out on the bike, not much wind, temperature about 70 F. Did not die.
15.27 miles, 1:13:16
As with the first two volumes in this series, all profits go to benefit Con or Bust.
Here’s the full table of contents:
- Introduction by K. Tempest Bradford
- Heroes and Monsters, by T. S. Bazelli
- Notes from the Meat Cage, by Fran Wilde
- What Color Are My Heroes? by Mari Kurisato
- The Zeroth Law Of Sex in Science Fiction, by Jennifer Cross
- Our Hyperdimensional Mesh of Identities, by Alliah
- Erasing Athena, Effacing Hestia, by Alex Conall
- Not So Divergent After All, by Alyssa Hillary
- Skins, by Chelsea Alejandro
- The Doctor and I, by Benjamin Rosenbaum
- My Family Isn’t Built By Blood, by Jaime O. Mayer
- Lost in Space: A Messy Voyage Through Fictional Universes, by Carrie Sessarego
- Decolonise The Future, by Brandon O’Brien
- Natives in Space, by Rebecca Roanhorse
- I Would Fly With Dragons, by Sean Robinson
- Adventures in Online Dating, by Jeremy Sim
- Of Asian-Americans and Bellydancing Wookiees, by Dawn Xiana Moon
- Shard of a Mirage, by MT O’Shaughnessy
- Unseen, Unheard, by Jo Gerrard
Huge thanks to the contributors for sharing their stories and experiences. I’ve learned so much from earlier volumes in this series, and this one was no different.
And hey, if you haven’t seen the previous volumes…
If you’re a reviewer and would like a copy, please contact me and let me know your preferred format and where your reviews are published.
Mirrored from Jim C. Hines.
The last two weeks have been a relentless dive into the 60s and 70. Yesterday, we didn't even make it to 70, and today we're expected to hit 72 at the most. And it's been rainy. What is this, Ireland? Michigan summers by now are regularly in the mid- to upper 80s, and we're heading for the beach. Nope! Not now!
I know--the 110 people are ready to punch me. But this unusual weather is, in its way, just as frustrating as the super hot stuff. It's COLD at night, for one thing. Last night, it got down into the 40s, and we woke up with our teeth chattering. Should turn the furnace back on? It's almost July, for frig's sake!
Now the global warming deniers chime in. "See? The globe can't be warming! It's cold!"
Fuck you. The reason it's so cold is all the extra energy--heat--in our atmosphere is pulling the jet stream south, and like a giant fan, it's blowing arctic air down our way. This is the epitome of global warming. And did we mention 120 in Arizona?
Electric cars can't come fast enough.
Digital review copy provided by the publisher through NetGalley
We had a salad at the Chezcake Factory, we will be so pleased to have one on the east side later this year, mostly due to my being unable to get up very early and so we miss things like breakfast and brunch. Well, I miss them, my sister does get up early...
Am awaiting a response from my brother if he and his wife want to meet me for a casual dinner on saturday, since its my birthday and all. The sticky wicket part of this is that their daughters birthday was the 4th, and the weekend was all about her, so we shall see how it goes. We always had a family party for her (and I was included, but, she got the cake, not me) so they are still going through the first after her death events. I would like to have some acknowledgement of my birthday, so, ... it gets a bit complicated. But it would be nice if both my siblings would be there.
Today, a whole less hot, and I need to write out july bills and make VAMC phone calls. Tomorrow, I see my Neuro and we go over my MRI and my 2.5 years since the removal of the old brain tumor. Watering of the yard and garden are on the list too.
Once it got past 7pm I did get outside and watered... my poor yard and garden looked a bit crispy.
Today, might go to the movies with the sister creature.
Darwin's ring is faceted tungsten. It slipped off his finger while he was swimming in a river and vanished.
We bought a replacement from the same jeweler. A few months later, this second ring simply vanished without a trace. Darwin noticed it wasn't on his finger one day, and it wasn't on his dresser or his nightstand or in the bathroom. We turned the house upside down. I even got out the metal detector and ran it over the lawn. Nothing.
We bought yet another replacement ring, and the jeweler noted that Darwin was his best repeat customer.
About ten months passed.
I already mentioned that we traded in the truck and got a mid-sized SUV instead. We also wanted to trade in the Ford CMAX Darwin drives for a newer model, but the dealer offered a rotten trade-in price, and we declined. Instead, we opted to get the CMAX detailed so it would LOOK like new.
The detailer kept the CMAX for a long, long time, but when he returned it, the car was thoroughly cleaned and restored, inside and out. Even the engine compartment and tires were shiny and new-looking.
Darwin was going through the car and put his hand in the pouch fastened to the back of the driver's seat. He made a strange face and pulled out his ring.
He has no idea how it got there. Best guess is that he put his hand in there and the ring was swiped as he pulled it back out, and he didn't notice. Thoroughly strange.
Here's the other thing: this particular ring was a tiny bit large for Darwin (which is why it probably slid off his finger in the pouch). He'd been intending to have it resized. However, it happens to fit me.
So now I have two wedding rings--one that matches his exactly, and one that doesn't.
We are Lords of the Ring, my Precious.
In my thirties, I tried going back to ballet and I enjoyed it. Problem by then, of course, was that my body hadn't grown into ballet form, and so by the fifth or sixth lesson, I was having pain in my legs that meant I was actually damaging my hips. I went to the doctor about it, and was told that I had to stop or I'd do permanent damage. When I quit the class, the teacher was disappointed. She said, "But you're good. You're the only person in the class that actually knows what she's doing." C'est la vie.
Earlier this spring, I started taking tap lessons. I love it. I'm good and I know it. My teacher says so. I'm practicing (perhaps not as much as I should be, but I am). The things I learned as a kid are coming back almost instinctively. I went yesterday afternoon to try to find better fitting shoes than the ones that I have (mine are too long and the ball of my foot isn't hitting the toe tap the way it should). It felt good to go looking for tools for my art that were actually appropriate. Thank goodness that beginner tap shoes aren't as expensive as street shoes! Anyway, because my feet are short and wide, the shop is putting in a special order to try to get some pairs that are suited to my strange-for-dancers feet.
I have a tiny little dream. My tiny little dream is to get good enough to perform locally. I don't know if that will ever be possible, but I want to try. I love being in front of an audience. I know I have presence. I love the bling and shine of being on stage. And I think I can entertain; I've done it before. And so we go.
On the lookout for ragged robin, finding none in the usual locations. Maybe too early, maybe too late, maybe too mowed. Did see a patch of blue cornflower blooming, plus a lot of birdsfoot trefoil, orange and yellow hawkweed, and the first hop-clover.
No roadkill seen, despite extended survey.
Got out on the bike, temperature in the 70s F with a nuisance breeze. Did not die.
30.45 miles, 2:43:43