Rachael

Lala has the best-worst-best story ever. It’s an animal story, so you should go read it. Really. People suck. And people are really, really good.

(You can comment here — no comments on her blog. Or feel free to email her. And look at that picture! That picture!)

My new favorite place to edit: In the dining room. On the table. After work. With a glass of wine. While the Roomba whooshes at my feet.

I worked on the book last night after I got off work, and the noise of the little vacuum (which had filled up with animal hair during the day and hadn’t finished its cycle) was great white noise. I thought I’d be too tired to do any real work, but maybe the tiredness lowered inhibitions — it went well. I monitored the glass of wine (monitored it REAL well, oh, yeah) because I’ve never been a drink-and-write kinda gal, and I don’t want to be one. It was nice yesterday, though.

Editing. It doesn’t suck. Not near as much as I thought it would.

Also regarding editing, memo to Caltrans:

YOUR ELECTRONIC SIGN IS KILLING ME. You know, the one at the 580/238 split.

"Please drive careful" is not okay. Ever.

The other signs in the area say "Please drive safely." "Please drive slowly." "Please use caution." These are all acceptable. But if you can’t fit the word carefully on a sign, USE SOMETHING ELSE.

I swerve a little every time I see it.

What an eventful Sunday!

1. My father-in-law came over for coffee.

2. Upon leaving, his rental car was hit by a car WITH NO ONE IN IT that rolled out of a parking lot. (No injuries, little damage.)

3. I thought I had a gas leak. The fire department came. They were nice. I didn’t have a detectable leak. Rather annoying. When leaving, the engineer looked at one of my spinning wheels and laughed. He pointed, "Come on, who uses that?" I said, "Look in here." Showed him the yarn room. Duly impressed. (If you didn’t know anyone who even knitted, how weird would it be to meet someone who also spun?)

4. I discovered Oyster Bay, an off-leash dog park very near our house that is AMAZING — on the bay, overlooking the Oakland airport runway, HUGE, and lovely.

    Clara likes sourgrass.

5. Used an unexpected work bonus to buy (drum roll): a ROOMBA! Got it at Costco and it’s running right now. Lala and I are both in love with it. She’s been trying to talk me into one forever, and I’ve been resisting, but why? Now she has a robot and I have a vacuum cleaner and it’s a match made in heaven. I canNOT keep on top of all the animal-hair tumbleweeds around here, even with my beloved Dyson. This might help. And it’s cute! The cats think it’s funny and Clara thinks maybe she is being replaced.

6. Went to my godson Dylan’s 2nd birthday party. We got him chaps and a cowboy hat. Oh, yeah. He got many instruments to go with the ones he already has (I think now he’s only missing a bass), but he loves this most:

And he’s good at it, too!

7. Made a big error in judgment when I told Lala to bring Harriet over when she came to the party (she had been training for the AIDS ride, and had been out all day riding 48 miles). The house dog, Scally, and Harriet have hung out many times. They go to the beach together. Scally’s been at our house. I only assumed Harriet had been to Scally’s house with Lala before. But Scally is protective of her house, and was surprised to see Harriet. Small fight, quickly separated, but I was OVERCOME with remorse at my stupidity. Harriet was fine, appreciated all the attention, and I was the one who broke down. Man, Harriet is FIERCE for sixteen, though.

8. SUSHI! Lots of it. 

I’m reading a book.

The main character is remembering cuddling with her grandmother in Scotland as she learned to knit:

In the afternoon, they’d rake up the coals and get the heat going in the small stove, sitting in just their socks on the two-seater sofa.

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

Naked grandmother. Naked six-year old learning to knit in the cold Scottish winter. Just socks. That might not be what the author intended.

Maybe I’m just super-hyper-conscious about what I want to avoid in my own writing. I think I’m an okay writer. It’s definitely what I want to do; it’s my passion. While I know most of the rules, I know that I tend to ignore them or just steamroll right over them sometimes out of laziness — you see that all the time on this little blog.

I’m hip-deep in this novel rewrite. No, more like neck-deep, and OHMYGOD I’m such a bad, horrible, shockingly terrible writer sometimes. Truly. Many of my sentences are much, much worse than the one quoted above. Adverbs just fly. I was writing a romance! I let myself break those kinds of rules, and now I’m slightly horrified. I dunno. Some parts I like. Other parts I think don’t deserve the recycled paper they’re printed upon. Upon which they’re printed. Sigh.

So I’m just about done with the rewrite of the novel, but now the hard part happens — I’ve made all the line-edits and written most of the additional material by hand, but starting this weekend, I’ll be putting those all into the computer. That might take just about forever. I think I’ll make myself work three hours every day off until it’s done. And then I’m going to kiss it and send it off and get to finishing the next one.

Yep. And I’ll wear just socks while doing it.

1. Going to San Francisco and meeting my wife for a burrito.
2. That burrito having half an avocado in it.
3. Discovering that the Salted Caramel ice cream at Bi-Rite Creamery has no soy-lecithin.
4. Walking the city on a cool sunny day.
5. Listing to This American Life on BART, sitting in the sunshine while the world goes by outside.
6. Taking the dogs on a hike in the canyon.
7. Watching in both horror and joy as Clara splashes in the creek.
8. Getting ready to cast on for something that Will Not Suck.

    Miss Idaho is very tall.

Why is there a fruit fly in my yarn room? It’s not a moth; that much is okay. OH GOD, what if it IS a moth, and I just don’t know what one looks like? Need more cedar in here.

I am a little angsty today. Still haven’t sold the condo, NEED to sell it, though, and we have an HOA meeting coming up on Wednesday, and that alone is enough to jangle my nerves. I hate the meetings. I really do. With every fiber of my being (and my yarn room), I hate the meetings. I feel like a very grown-up girl for having been the one to schedule this one, and I have to do some things for it today. Sigh.

Also, while Stitches was fantastic and all that, I’ve been having some awkward knitting mojo. I must have used all my mojo up with Jeanie.

I bought a pattern at Stitches which was so badly written I ended up making myself a frilled collar yesterday instead of a sleeve. Dude, since when is 200 be divisable by 7? That was the first instruction — I should have given up then. Reading further on, it told me pick up stitches around the neck, back and fronts. IT GAVE NO INSTRUCTIONS FOR FRONTS. I don’t think it actually HAS fronts, as the collar is kind of the front of it, hard to explain, but don’t write it like that, please. Pity, because I really want to make the pattern, but now I won’t. Might futz with my own version of it, though…. (Don’t  worry, it’s not an available pattern yet, and I’ll email the designer. You are in no danger.)

I started to wind the yarn for that Shelridge Farm kit. The two black skeins almost kilt me, I swear. Lala came home from her comic-book convention to find me on the floor in the kitchen (the best light), trying to untangle the Skein That Would Not Be Untangled. I was swearing at all the animals who thought it was THE BEST GAME EVAR and trying not to cry. I wanted to cast on right that moment and I wouldn’t be denied. (Damn Claritin. I always have a Claritin meltdown on the days I give in and take it.)

I said, "I hate all the animals! None of them are helping! And it’s so dirty down here on the floor!"

She said, "Why don’t you try dealing with it on the table, then?"

Me: Dumb silence. Hadn’t thought of that.

Returned the black skeins the next day at Stitches and paid a nice charity to wind them for me. Taking no chances. I felt like a dumb-ass, though. I even brought the other skeins, the not-black skeins, to show the Shelridge Farm people that I *do* know how to wind a damn skein, really. They were very nice, and their yarn is delicious, and I recommend them, I really do. But I think they might have more problems with that batch of black.

I fell in LOVE with a new pattern from Article Pract which I MUST start now. Thinking about handspun, but not quite sure yet. Have to start it, have to start it. And I’m sure I’ll eff it up somehow.

I will try not screw anything else up today. No guarantees, though. Perhaps I will take the dogs for a nice walk. That will help. As did the big nose-kiss Waylon just gave me.