Well. There you go. It looks just like the corrections Grammarly gives me in my own writing. You all probably already see how I live on the run-on sentence. I try to fix it, but it is how I talk. I did not write the quote. That was a capture from a share on Facebook. And ‘is done’ is when the whole thing got underlined to be rewritten.
By the way, I used the Snipping Tool for that capture. I’m hoping others can see and read it better than my old eyes. Hopefully, you get the idea.
Found on Facebook:
Thanks Yve for the idea. And Linda G Hill for the prompt.
That is all. Recovering files from last novel and setting up for next one. Maybe a lot more than editing. At least I’m not freaking out about a lost book like I have been since my computer crashed. The light at the end of the tunnel isn’t a train of doom.
That is all. Just checking in.
Prompt: Last Time
As we were the last of our good into the U-Haul, a friend walked and hugged me. What if this is the last time?
I like moving to new places. I’m not too fond of goodbyes. So I avoid the “what if this is the last time?” thoughts. That is a dark, long rabbit hole to travelโthe result: depression Hell.
Would knowing it would be the last time change anything? What amount of trying could change that? How about taking a picture of your sad friends, would that change anything? Would it help?
Would knowing it was the last time I saw my grandparents or parents have changed the outcome or make me feel differently afterward? Death resulted. My missing them still occurred.
As I mentioned, I moved a lot. Each city and new home became an adventure. Each new meant saying goodbye to old. But outside of mortality, the goodbyes were permanent. Friends and family remained in contact even when we only had snail mail and long-distance. The buildings were just buildings.
Still, there are buildings I always walk through in memories and dreams. My grandparents’ houses come to mind. I always walk through those homes. I smelled the cedar closet of mom’s parents’ place. The glider swings outside, one for the grandkids, one for adults. The garage where grandpa made me the oldest grandchild, and future grands, blocks. Oh, the smell of wood shavings.
Both grandfathers were carpenters. Mom’s dad did cabinet work, while ย Dad’s dad did home construction. Both grandparents’ homes were nearly identical copies.
Enter the back porch where both grandmas did laundry. Back then, wringer washers we grands were able to help with, if careful. Back then, Dad’s mom had a dog named Hector. Nobody locked their doors. The family walked in without knocking.
Now the kitchens. The aroma of cooking food or dish detergent, oh, and coffee filled the room. To your right, there is a corner bench with a round table. We used this table for small meals or kids table for holidays. We kids crawled under the table if we wanted to leave during a meal. On the same side as the table is the windowed sink and the cabinets for dishes, etc.
My mother’s parents’ kitchen was bluish. My father’s parents’ kitchen was yellow.
That bluish kitchen had a window to the den to transfer snacks or coffee. That window was one of the small differences between their unique yet similar homes. On that side of the kitchen were the fridge and stove.
There was a pull door between the kitchens and the dining rooms. We grands loved them. We’d slide the door closed to playing ‘elevator.’ At one point, that game was called to an end in both houses as the shut doors stopped the traffic flow in the house.
Long dining tables and beautiful china cabinets were on the left of the next room. At the end of my dad’s parents’ table was my grandfather’s desk. On it was a phone. We would pick up the receiver and tell the operator to connect us with Overland 9-0757 on this line, please.ย That rang to my other grandparents’ phone on the kitchen wall, also black. The phones were black then.
I’ll traipse through the rest of the two houses later as I think I have gotten sidetracked from the actual prompt. I’m just saying if I had known I wouldn’t enter these homes the last time I visited, what would have changed?
And who knew the last time I walked Newport Beach while waiting for rush hour traffic to subside, still arriving home at the exact time I would have should I have parked on the freeway with everyone else? I vividly remember the sparkle of water and sand. The sea breeze the most brilliant olfactoric experience ever. The walk planted itself in my memory along with the sunsets and gulls flying overhead. ย Strolling the sand, or wading in the foam, between lifeguard station 68 and the runoff, my life was in its most peaceful place. Knowing or not knowing the last time changes nothing.
Oh. And when was the last swim? Over two years ago. Would knowing it was the last time, change my summer meditation?
When triple-digit heat or the tooth infection threatens my calm, I dive into the pools of my past. I swim underwater to the shallow end. Coolness against my skin, releasing the heat. Then the pressure of needing air pulls me to the surface. Then back under as my hair mermaids out, I’ve only had short hair for a couple of years. It was long most of my life. This shorter scuba dive brings me back to the surface to breast-stroke laps until exhaustion brings me to slog out, pick up the towel and breathe deep of the moist, fresh air. Summer soothes every ounce of my being.
Knowing it had been the last time doesn’t mean it was the last time.
Now, if only I could remember where I put my cotton yarn.
Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is โdirections.โ Find a household cleaner/bottle of shampoo/something in the freezer/anything you can find with instructions on it, then copy down a single direction (just one) on how to use/cook/etc. your chosen thing, and make it the first line or word of your post. Then keep writing whatever comes out. Have fun!
What day is it anyway? Yeah, I woke thinking I was up in time for Kelly and Ryan. And there was a show about animals in Madagasgar. Well, look what’s on Saturday!
What day is it anyway? Yeah, I’ve been starting with ‘W‘ every day this month of alphabetical soup. I wish I could say that Iย have been writing furiously daily, too. That didn’t happen. I ran out of juice last week. My characters decided to take off in directions that seemed unconnected to my story. I knew the story still wanted to be told so I took time off to think. Then I decided to take the stress of the word count. I set a new goal to hit 30k by the end of the thirtieth. With nearly 28k I figured it was doable. Next month I will continue as I think the book is only halfway done. I still see a lot of adventures and dangers happening ahead.
Oh, Monday is my local Zoom Writers Meet so today I do know the day it is. It is so wonderful to meet with other writers and hear their take on the prompts. The same prompt can be taken so differently.
Wandering heart is playing in my head that it wants to use tomorrow’s 77 degrees for a walk. It is about time we get good weather. Everyone I know is telling me how hot it is where they are. When I’ve looked outside to decide the wind or the rain were my deciding factor.
Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is โpractice/practise.โ Use it any way youโd like. Have fun!
Practice makes perfect. I used to believe that. I practiced my heart out and became a less than mediocre pianist. Not only have I practiced piano until bloody, but I have also written novels until I am crazy. I admit I am not a natural talent in either art. I do have talents, but I can’t do those things anymore for various reasons. The passions are there.
That said, maybe I have been too hard on myself. There is still hope, and I need to lower my expectations for a while. Aiming for perfection during a pandemic seems a lot more stress than I need to put out there. So if I want to hit 50K, I am going to extend my goal through next month. I will write every day as much as I can. But I can’t handle the stress. Writing Pandamapocalyps helps express and explore thoughts on the virus and letting my imagination play with it. But I need to keep it fun as a stress reliever. That way, I can play with the Pandas.
By the way, my word count is at 27,047. I’ve had the laptop in my lap all day. I barely made over a thousand words more. But as I left yWriter, I was having fun in the story, so I can’t quit. I just want a little less stress. I miss knitting! I need more of that in my life.
So that is my #A2Z version of the #SoCS and CampNaNo report.
Wow! How did we get here already! It’s already Friday! It’s been so long since I have been inside a business. Somewhere on this blog, I talked about taking my Kali to the vet for her shots. Somewhere on this blog, I told about going and getting temporary fillings. By the way, they are still there. I hope they will continue to hang on. <–My first “O” word! I think it was the beginning of March. OMG! It seems like forever ago. It seems like yesterday. It reminds me of how we have always remembered common dates. We ask, ‘What were you doing when JFK was shot? Or ‘Where where you when we heard about Bobby? And the not distant past asks, Where were you working on 9/11?
This one is different. Maybe it goes like this: What was the last real day before lockdown?
The thing is, I never went anywhere before. As retired folk, we can’t afford to go anywhere. Often the bones were hurting, and I didn’t feel like going anywhere, Now, I feel like hopping in the car and just driving forever. I’ve always been a bit of a hobo, I like to travel. And fibro put an end to that. Too tired. But now I think I have rebellion working overtime. The body is still complaining. I barely have the energy to walk around the yard. But not being able to, enforced by the wicked virus, is crazy-making. Right?
So that is what day it is. Anyway, Word count that was caught up yesterday on CampNaNo. Behind again. Ouch! So I must leave you and get over to yWriter and see what I can do to fix it. My characters are having dance parties in the middle of the Pandamacalypse. And today is the day on Grey’s Anatomy that O’Malley dies. O’Malley! {See what I did there?}
, 
I woke with the sound of Arya Stark’s voice. I am no longer in love with Game of Thrones. The ending was atrocious. But sometimes a good GoT quote is called for. “Not today” is what we all should be saying. But then again while in the midst of this stuff and losing track of what day it is, all we need is one more day we can’t claim.
Trash is out so I guess it’s Thursday. No Grey’s Anatomy, except all the Netflix ones I’ve been watching. But I’m still pretty sure it is Thursday. Another week has gone to blurry.
Nothing is better than a call from offspring. That makes today very special. I got to touch base with the adultrens. Everyone seems to be fine, calmer than the last time we spoke even though there are new nerve-wracking situations in each of their lives. They seem to be holding it together and keeping on a healthy path. I feel better. I’m still mom and worried but their voices help me take a breath and be grateful.
As of last night, I was 31 words ahead of goal on my CampNaNo. National Novel Writing Month started way back in 1999. I think. I read Chris Baty’s book, No Plot, No Problem I think in 2001. I have written a NaNo every year and sometimes twice a year ever since. I love writing like that. Others may never read my novels but the adventure that flies from my head through my fingers is more fun than any other novel out there. Who but me knows what I like to read? Anyway, I should let Chris Baty speak for himself.
But speaking about novel writing I have 3 and 1/2 hours to get another 1,667 words in to be on track. I have dragons and hippos fighting and an angry virus that is sentient. It doesn’t matter how big you are when it is the smallest things like atoms and viruses that can destroy everything. I hope my characters figure it out better than the government is doing it. Deep Breath. Control what you can.
By the way, What Day Is It Anyway? is a prompt from Linda G. Hill
This URL is where to learn about the A2Z Challenge
Learn more about NaNoWriMo here.
BUT I am finally caught up on my CampNaNo wordage! Well, I was at midnight. Oh, the quandary that was. At fifteen minutes to midnight, I needed to make sure I got a blog in so I wouldn’t lose my daily streak. I am now at 147 days that WordPress has kept track of before midnight posts I know in my heart that I have blogged daily for nearly a year, but just once if you miss and blog a minute after midnight, it starts counting from zero again. I’ve done better with Duolingo. I am on day 259. Duo does the same thing. Do it a minute after midnight, and the count starts back at zero.
So it dawned on me that all I needed to do was reblog something fast and then come back when I finished writing on my CampNaNo project. So I reblogged Linda G. Hill’s latest blog figuring if someone wanted to do the fun blog prompts she gives us. It would be a perfect place to start. Jake is your uncle, I am caught up on all counts! Today I needed 16,670 words to be right on track if I write 1,667 every day until the 30th to have 50,000 words in my novel, Pandemapocalypse. I keep rearranging the title as I have a hard time remembering it. But I think that is the right one. Anyway, the count for today-well before midnight was 16,711. Woo Hoo! The sad thing is that gene-popping dragons can catch the virus. And the virus may actually be an alien. Who knows? My characters need to figure it out. I’m just along for the ride. Well, typing.
So what day is it anyway? It is hard to tell after midnight. I haven’t gone to bed yet, so it is still Friday. That’s my opinion. Not the clock’s. I know it is Friday because and this is another stumbled, it was trash day, but at almost noon my brother realized it didn’t go out. I hadn’t thought of it, nobody in the house had thought of it. But we took our chances and rolled it out. The pick-up guys usually come at around 10:30, but last week they were later. Whew! They were late again, and our trash went away. And then it was friends’ time to Skype? Well, our first time trying Skype in forever and found it froze on my end, and the picture was fuzzy. So we went back to Zoom. That seems a better way. At least we don’t find what we talked about being advertised on our FaceBook page the next day. And only just now did I realize I didn’t make a call I promised. And last Saturday, I promised someone I would set up a time to chat, and not until the middle of last night did I realize I never called them back. Geez. I must be brain-dead! I hope these people understand that time/day wackoness is the problem and not my lack of love for them.
Okay, can I consider myself done and go to bed, please?
Congrats! You have completed your goal of reading 100 books for the 2013 Reading Challenge! 115 of 100 (115%)
Congrats! You have completed your goal of reading 225 books for the 2012 Reading Challenge! 225 of 225 (100%)
Congrats! You have completed your goal of reading 200 books for the 2011 Reading Challenge! 204 of 200 (102%)
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