Wed. March 15, 2023: It’s STILL Snowing

image courtesy of janeb13 via pixabay.com

Wednesday, March 15, 2023

Waning Moon

Snowing

The Ides of March

It still snowing. Sorry I didn’t post yesterday, but the power fluctuated, and the internet was out most of the day.

I hope you had a great weekend. We get a Wednesday catchup. Curl up with a beverage. This is a long one, because it’s been six days since we were last in contact.

Friday was a lovely, sunny day. I went out early in the morning to pick up my cake.

Then, we headed over to The Clark Art Institute in Williamstown. They have free admission for the month of March, so it seemed like a good time to check them out.

What an amazing space. It’s huge, and a little overwhelming. In addition to the multiple museum buildings and the research library, they have 140 acres of trails with sculptures.

Definitely something that needs more than a day.

We spent most of the time at the Promenades on Paper exhibit, sketches on loan from the Bibliotèque Nationale de France. Wow. The curation was exquisite, including the color choices for the walls. I was especially fascinated by the Opera sketches and the sketch of a “private theatre” that looked like it was a railroad car. I need to learn more about it. I  wish I’d taken notes.

We wandered over to the permanent collection, but there was just too much to take in, all at once.

Definitely going back. Often.

The reception for regional grant awardees is there at the end of the month, so now I know where to go.

I bet the gardens and trails are gorgeous in spring, summer, and fall. Probably a good place to go and write.

We came home and I ordered A Whole Lot of Chinese food, just in case the weather was so bad on Saturday that I couldn’t get my birthday dinner.

I read in the afternoon, re-reading a book about the antiquarian book trade (my copy’s in storage). It was so nice that we could sit and read out on the front porch. All three cats joined us.

I did some research on the two antique books I picked up at Thursday’s book sale for a dollar each and it looks like they might have some value. Not the kind of value pristine first editions would have, but value, nonetheless. One is by James M. Barrie, who is most famous for PETER PAN, but wrote a bunch of other stuff, too. They are also earlier editions, probably closer to the turn of the twentieth century or late Victorian printings, rather than the twenties I’d figured. And one of the publishers had apprenticed with the other, so the two books are connected.

I will get some archival white cotton gloves to handle them when I read them, and then put them in a safe place while I do more research. Neither book fits the first edition descriptions, but they are nicely made pieces I will enjoy.

I had a leisurely reading evening, too. I want to know more about Anne Baldwin, who ran a print shop in the 17^th century.

Slept fairly well. Had weird dreams about clay figures that had been slathered with a particular type of red paint. A former toxic boss was in the dream, asking for forgiveness. That’s how I knew it was a dream; she’d never do that in real life!

I somehow hurt both wrists in the dream, and woke up with sore wrists.

Saturday was my birthday, and it was snowing when I woke up.

I made smoked salmon eggs Benedict, which we had with Prosecco.

I did a library run, dropping off and picking up books ahead of the storm.

I started working on the revision for the upcoming “Plot Bunnies” re-release, and then I thought, why am I working on my birthday?

So I stopped.

I read. I’m reading a biography of actress Katharine Cornell that’s very fawning, but it has necessary information on Marian de Forest and Jessie Bonstelle. I can’t believe how few people remember Jessie Bonstelle, when she was such a force in touring companies and creating regional theatre as we know it.

I made notes for a couple of upcoming projects.

I re-read THE MOVING FINGER by Agatha Christie, which is the March “Read Christie” choice. It’s been years since I read it (it’s the one about poison pen letters).  Christie is remembered for Poirot and Marple, and, although this is, technically, a Marple story, it’s told through the first person POV of another character, Jerry, and the structure is interesting.

I ordered and picked up dinner from a local restaurant I wanted to try, that touts itself as an upscale farm-to-table place. Um? When I went to pick up the food, the restaurant itself is small, dark, and dingy with cheap furniture, and the staff was more interested in talking about their dating lives than in their customers. The food was okay, but I wanted better than okay. I had a supposed “Bolognese” sauce that was more of a Roman-style meat sauce without the tomato sauce, but definitely not “Bolognese.” There wasn’t even a smidge of cream in it, and none of the seasoning that sets apart a Bolognese sauce. I mean, it was an okay meat sauce over a glop of overcooked spaghetti (not even fettucine). Not great (mine are better). But it wasn’t a layered Bolognese, and for that price, I expected layered taste.

My mom had what was supposed to be cordon bleu chicken in puff pastry, with sides of mashed potatoes and green beans, with a cheese sauce over it. There was chicken wrapped in pastry, with maybe a thin slice of ham and cheese around it, like deli-sliced. It was in some sort of dough sheet, but not the puff pastry stated in the description. The mashed potatoes were heaped over the pastry, and a basic alfredo sauce poured over it, with four undercooked green beans sticking out of the bottom. Huh?

The ”garlic bread” that came with  my pasta was a few tiny (I’m taking 1/8” wide, and maybe 2” long), limp slices of leftover narrow baguette which had been dumped in warmed garlic-infused olive oil and wrapped in aluminum foil. It was dissolving and nearly inedible when I unwrapped it. That is not how one makes garlic bread.

And there was zero presentation. I mean, yeah, it’s a pickup, it’s going to be in containers (I’d brought an insulated bag). But don’t just glop it in the dish. At least try to make it look nice? A spring of parsley isn’t going to break the bank.

It’s not like they were overrun with customers.

It’s not that the food was bad. It was serviceable diner food. If I’d ordered it from a diner, I would have been satisfied. But it wasn’t a diner, and I didn’t want diner food. I wanted something special. This wasn’t it.

I won’t be eating there again any time soon.

But the cake made up for it. I’d bought a chocolate truffle bomb cake from a different place, and we’ve been eating the cake all weekend. It’s very rich, so we only have a small slice at a time.

Overall, it was a lovely birthday, filled with good wishes from friends online and off (and a package, from one friend, with a cat toy the cats love). I have such a tumultuous relationship with my birthday, it was nice to genuinely enjoy it and not work to enjoy it for anyone else’s benefit.

We “sprung ahead” for Daylight Savings Time on Sunday, which always screws me up for weeks.

Sunday was bright and sunny. I did a run to the post office to mail some stuff that needed to get out. We sat on the porch and read. I did some re-reading of GAMBIT COLONY material. When I do the next (and hopefully final) editing pass on these first sections, I need to set up better tracking sheets and do a more detailed Series Bible. I’m losing important elements, especially as I layer in other important elements.

I always wind up blocking a lot of oafs on social media on Oscar, Emmy, and Tony Award nights because they start pontificating about the business when none of them could last an hour on an actual set or backstage. It’s WORK, that requires enormous physical and mental capacity, so others can play. If the result isn’t your bag, that’s one thing. You like what you like, you don’t like what you don’t like, and that’s part of the risk creatives take when putting work out there. Not everyone will like it.  But when they act like creatives don’t work for a living, and it’s not “real work” and they can pass judgement on what it’s like to DO the work when they’ve never spent a day on set, or done anything creative with high stakes to it, I’m done. They know nothing, NOTHING, about what it takes to get it done, so shut the fuck up you lazy, untalented, snarky coward.

Of course, when they show their asses like that and get blocked, my overall life is better without them, so better knowing sooner than later.

As a wardrobe person, I was a little unsettled with some of the red carpet choices. I’m all for wearable art, especially for something like the Met Gala. But award shows are about the creative artists who did the work, and too many of the choices on the “champagne carpet” (how pretentious was that?) were about the stylist’s ego and not about making the creative artist look good. There were some wonderful gowns and radiant individuals, but there were also choices that were not about making the wearer look their best, and often the hair and makeup didn’t work with the gown. And one could tell who used the same stylists, because the looks were too similar and about the stylist, not about the individual being styled, which I disagree with. On the positive side, I liked that there were many bold color choices. Too often, the palette is too similar, and people wear colors that don’t suit them because that’s the color trend for that year.

I read the book for review, and sent off the review on Monday morning, before the storm got too intense.  Emails came in steadily, with cancellations and closures in the area for most of the week.

The storm started just after 8 AM. It started as snow, got heavier, then switched over to rain for most of the rest of the day.

Tuesday’s yoga class was cancelled, and Monday night’s soup class was moved to Thursday, because Jeremy had to travel and decided to get out while the storm wasn’t so bad.

I could not get my act together on Monday. I got through a lot of email. I updated my Creative Ground profile. I did some social media networking. I wrote up some project notes. I managed to get the first 20 episodes’ worth of Legerdemain graphics up on Pinterest. It’s such a pain, because when I try to arrange them in the correct order, after about 5 minutes, I have to log out and log back in. Getting all 60+ episode graphics up will be a PITA.

A director who’s worked on a bunch of my radio plays emailed me to say they miss me and would like more, so I sent off two they haven’t yet done. I still owe them a dirigible play. I guess I should get back to that. I haven’t heard from the other producer in absolute ages, so I’m not sure what’s going on with the play he has, and the other ones he wants. I’m assuming there’s a delay.

I finally gave up on getting anything on the “should” list done. I’m fine on my deadlines, so I didn’t have to worry.

I buried myself in another re-read of the GAMBIT COLONY material. Which of course, means taking the red pen and cutting or adding or making adjustments. There’s a vital position in the production team that I’ve ignored in all these drafts, and I have a feeling I have to suck it up and layer in another character. I also worked a big chunk before I realized that I was working on THE WRONG DRAFT. I’d picked up the wrong binder. When I got back to the correct draft, I’d already put in most of those changes! At least I know I’m on the right track.

It hadn’t started snowing by the time I went to bed on Monday. I woke up around 3:30 (feline shift change), and it had just stared; there was about an inch on the ground, but it came down hard.

When I woke up again just before 6, the power was out. I figured, because there was no scent of coffee.

The cats, however, Weren’t Having it, so I hauled myself out of bed and fed them, then went back to bed for a bit, watching the snow. The lights were on at the college, because they have emergency power generators, so I use the sound of the heaters (or lack thereof) to know if the power is on or off. That, and the fact that I don’t hear the hum of the downstairs neighbor’s television, which is on 24/7.

I finally dressed in layers – fleece-lined leggings under velvet leggings, oversized handknit sweater over turtleneck, thick socks. The snow was intense!

The gas stove still worked, when I lit the individual burners, so I made coffee in the French press and made tea for my mom. We could have a cooked breakfast and all, so it wasn’t too bad.

I’d unplugged the laptop the night before, and I powered it down. There was no internet, but occasionally the phone signal was strong enough to post a picture. The power went off and on all day.

We bundled ourselves under layers of blankets and cats in the living room, so we could watch the snow come down. I had the binders with GAMBIT COLONY and just kept reading. I layered in the missing character (this is a cast of Many, dealing with life behind the scenes shooting a large television series), and, by the time I got to re-reading the latest draft of book 3 in the series, realized I had to change her name because it’s too similar to that of two other characters. While one often works productions where multiple people have the same name, I only do that in this series when there’s a plot-or-character related reason for it, and I try to keep the names of people who are often in the same scenes together different enough not to be confusing.

The original GAMBIT COLONY Series Bible is a hot mess with all the drafts over the years. I know I need to start a fresh one. I’m also considering doing a corkboard type of document to track characters and make sure I’m following through on arcs, much as I would if it was a scripted series. I did a little digging, and it looks like there’s a way to do that in Scrivener. Since I own Scrivener software, and it doesn’t work for me to draft (since it won’t let me draft in standard manuscript format, and that’s a deal breaker for me), maybe I can at least use the corkboard function. I found a tutorial on creating a binder and ditching the document file so it allows one to just use the corkboard, so when I get to that point, I will try.

I’d hoped Office had an index card format, but it only has one for Windows10. I’d have to buy the NoteDex app, and it doesn’t have the flexibility I need. No, thank you. I’ll figure out how to use the board in Scrivener. I’ll also look at DramaQueen, the script software I use, and see if my version has one. I’m still dithering whether I should just suck it up and use some of the grant money (when it arrives) for Final Draft. That would be the professional thing to do. I know Final Draft has the board option. Plus I’d use it for, you know, scripts.

It was great to submerge myself in that GAMBIT COLONY world for a couple of days, but now I need to finish books 5 & 6, and do a big overall revision/organization, because they are all of a piece, and all have to be done before any of them can release, much less get submitted. I have stacks of notes on what happens next; I just have to work it into the schedule.

I heard from a market I’d forgotten I’d contacted that yes, I could submit to them in radio format. Now, I have to go back through  my notes and figure out what it was I meant to send them.

The snow is still coming down hard, and will be all day. I expect the power and internet will continue to fluctuate. If it does, I’m still on top of deadlines. If I can get some work done – on Legerdemain, and making the rounds for yesterday’s episode of Legerdemain, and today’s episode of Angel Hunt and the latest Process Muse (which is about research), I will do so. I have one script in the queue due Friday, and a novel they asked me to read and comment on for adaptation due Saturday, which I hope to finish by Friday. So we’ll see.

I feel guilty that I was in GAMBIT COLONY world during time I could have been working on the Heist Romance, but since the power was out and the internet was out, I couldn’t have accessed the software anyway.

I HATE cloud-based everything. I want it in my damn computer, so I can work offline.

Anyway, breakfast, then back to the page. I need to get back to work drafting new episodes of Legerdemain. I have episodes for the next couple of weeks, which I’ll upload later this week, but I want to get farther ahead.

I am NOT looking forward to digging the car out from nearly three feet of snow. If it lets up mid-day, I’ll start. Otherwise, I’ll wait until tomorrow and take as much time as I need to do it, in sections. The car looks like a baby igloo, with al the snow piled over it.

Hope you are well, warm, and happy!

Back to the page.

Tues. Dec. 11, 2018: Spontaneity, Baking, and Writing

Tuesday, December 11, 2018
Waxing Moon
Uranus Retrograde

Busy weekend.

I gave myself the weekend off from most writing, more so I wouldn’t get frustrated than anything else.

I wanted to start the baking marathon on Friday, but I made spontaneous arrangements to go get a drink with someone and it turned into dinner, and then suddenly it was after 8 PM, so that was that.

I needed the break, and it was so nice to do something spontaneously. I thought, when I left NYC, with all the scheduling and enforced busy-ness, that away from NY, life would have more room for spontaneity. But people here aren’t interested in doing anything outside of their set routines, most of the time. Not only is it a non-reciprocal culture, it’s an un-spontaneous one. People don’t want to play or have fun.

There never “is” time for any of that. You have to make it. You have to seize the opportunity.

So, when I had the chance, so to do, I did.

It figures the person with whom this happened is only visiting here, not a resident.

Anyway, Saturday began the baking marathon. 19 dozen cookies (two kinds). With a pause when the landlord came to fix the garage door, and then roasting a chicken.

Sunday, another 22 dozen cookies (two more kinds) and the first batch of cupcakes.

I’d done a grocery run in the morning to pick up a few more things I needed for baking. The young grocery clerk asked if I was making fruitcake. I said no, I was making stained glass cupcakes. He’d never heard of that, and I said it was because I created them. I explained the recipe, and he thought it sounded really cool.

So, after the batch was done, when I went out to meet a friend for a walk on the beach, I dropped some off to him. It brightened his day.

Finished watched the French drama THE DISAPPEARANCE. Really well done, and the difference in storytelling technique is fascinating.

Monday morning started on a sour note; more calls for “civility.” Of course, from privileged white men. Sorry, not playing that game. Not being civil to people who are trying to kill me, physically or legislatively. Done.

It’s even more frustrating when the ones who start pulling the crap are the ones who pretended to support us in the fight in the first place.

I know people struggle during the holidays. I’m happy to offer a loving hand and friendship. What I’m not willing to do is get dragged down into their misery. I value my holidays and hold that happiness sacred. I’m tired of people wanting to destroy other people’s happiness.

Granted, that’s a major part of the GOP platform, but even so-called resistors try to do the same too often. We all resist in our own way. I do not expect everyone to bend to my way; I do expect the respect not to bend to someone else’s way.

Worked with a client, which was challenging. But we got through it.

Had a couple of other appointments, then started delivering the cookie platters, and also had to do some admin work.

Today will be another challenging day. My patience is wearing thin.

Then it’s more decorating, and working on the cards. I’m behind where I need to be with them.

And getting some writing done.

In two projects I’m playing with, the characters who were supposed to fall in love with each other fell in love with other characters who are better suited. So I’m going with the flow. This is especially true in one piece, where the man has a pattern of falling in love with toxic women. Instead of folding to the trope of him finally recognizing the worthwhile woman is just that — worthwhile — he’s going to keep repeating his pattern of falling for toxic women (and expecting her to pick up the pieces when he’s hurt), but she will move on to someone who is worthy of her. Not settle for the good guy, nor does she keep herself mired in a pattern with her ex — she genuinely grows away from him.

In the other piece, he wants her because she’s thrown him a lifeline, but she knows they aren’t suited. So she navigates gently, so as not to hurt him, while unexpectedly falling for someone else, and it opens the way for him to fall in love with someone who is good for him, too.

I think both of those are more realistic and healthier than the usual tropes.

We’ll see how it works when the piece is done, and then edited, and then revised.

 

Tues. Nov. 27, 2018: Busy Season is Here

Tuesday, November 27, 2018
Waning Moon
Neptune DIRECT (as of Saturday)
Uranus Retrograde
Mercury Retrograde

I hope everyone had a great Thanksgiving last week.

We drove to Maine, leaving early on Wednesday. We managed to thread the needle through the Big Dig tunnel, avoiding the bulk of the traffic, and getting through it only moments before a breakdown in the tunnel caused problems.

Our preferred hotel in Ogunquit was closed for the holiday, so we found another one, in Wells. It was fine. It had a kitchenette, which always helps, but the space was cramped, and the shower only had hot water for three minutes.

Hit my favorite thrift shop in York, and got some adorable decorations to add to the decoration family.

We got our favorite pizza from our favorite pizza joint in the area, Da Napoli. On the way back, I ran into a snow squall. From clear to whiteout in seconds. It was like someone poured a giant vat of sugar over the road.

Got some writing done, on a couple of different projects. Tried to watch TV, but it was dreadful. The news has a single sound byte and then a half a dozen commercials. There isn’t any actual reporting going on. The shows don’t even have scenes any more, just moments. But at least Comcast doesn’t run everything up in Maine.

Thursday was the coldest in years, although clear. 8 degrees, but it felt like in the minus numbers. We drove up to Gray. We always rent out the American Legion Hall. This year, we had 63 for dinner. I mashed, I believe it was, 108 pounds of white potatoes, and 40 pounds of sweet potatoes. Lots of people I hadn’t seen in years were there, and it was fun to catch up.

I felt bad for my mom. This year, she was the oldest one at the dinner (at 94). All her contemporaries have died. It was difficult for her.

We ate, we cleaned up (everyone helps with everything), we went back to the motel to recover. It was fun, but exhausting. For an introvert, that’s a lot of people.

Friday morning, we hit the road early. Stopped at Stonewall Kitchen in York to stock up on our favorite things, and then headed home. There was a lot of traffic, but it was moving. We made another stop at Market Basket when we came over the bridge, to stock up, and were home a little after noon.

The cats were glad to see us, but they’d coped just fine while we were gone.

Unpacked, and switched out the harvest fabric to the holiday fabric on various surfaces. I felt like I was coming down with something, and hoped I was wrong.

Saturday, I had a sore throat, but pushed ahead. We took 300 gallons of leaves to the dump, then raked up another 330 gallons. We got the tree in the stand, and the lights on it. I hate putting on the lights, but when we took them off last year, I took the time to pack them differently and mark them, and that made all the difference this year.

While raking, sorted out the scenes for the holiday story I want to include in the newsletter this year. It will be short — 3, maybe 4 scenes, inspired by the fireplace at the rest area on the border between New Hampshire and Maine on I-95.

Cleared off one of the bureaus, to set up the Santa collection, and wound up polishing the whole piece. It looks wonderful, so it was worth it. But the Santas didn’t look right there, so they’re back on the behemoth. For now, the carolers are on the bureau and the herd of deer are on the mantel, but it might all move around.

By Sunday, I was sick, sick, sick. Curled up and read all day. Made chicken soup from scratch. Read a wonderful book called THE STRINGS OF MURDER by Oscar de Muriel, set in Victorian Edinburgh.

Yesterday, I was too sick to work onsite with my client. I probably could have pushed through, but didn’t want to sneeze and cough all over my client and colleagues. Dropping off library books and picking stuff up at CVS was about all I could handle.

Today, I’ll be onsite with my client, prepping for her holiday sales. Busy weeks coming up, with the holidays, and all. I need to get the overseas cards written.

I am disgusted by the administration’s policy firing on asylum seekers and threatening to close the border — all while Russia is making a move in the Crimea. I am sick and tired of no one DOING anything about the corruption in this administration.

I need to get back to the page. BALTHAZAAR is going along well, and I need to make sure that stays on schedule. In the meantime, I need to tear apart DAVY JONES DHARMA and fix it, so that it stay on its new release date schedule.

And I have a review to write.

I watched a documentary about Canaletto, one of my favorite painters, and got an idea to write a play about his sisters. Not sure if that will be pitched to 365 Women or elsewhere. But I think that will be the play after the anti-gun violence play is done.

In the meantime, trying to really get well. I’m better, but still get tired quickly.

Onward, and back to the page.

Monday, Dec. 2, 2013: Adventures in Maine

Monday, December 2, 2013
New Moon
Jupiter Retrograde
Sleety and cold

Don’t forget to sign up for the “Organize Your Life” Workshop on Sat. December 7. A few hours on Saturday afternoon, and your writing life is sorted out for 2014! The techniques will serve you well beyond the class and the year. Information here.

We haven’t had a good sit-down for quite awhile, and that’s because I haven’t been around.

Monday night, during the 11 PM news, it became clear that Wednesday was going to be a stormy, difficult travel day. So, we stayed up until 3 AM baking lemon cupcakes and preparing beef stroganoff and putting together everything else we needed to take to Maine. We caught a few hours’ of sleep, called Maine at 8 AM and asked if we could come up a day early. The answer was a resounding “yes”, so I did as much work as possible, and we were on the road by 11 AM.

The drive wasn’t bad — a little testy around Boston, but, otherwise, traffic wasn’t bad and roads smooth. We made a couple of favorite stops up in Kittery and York, but made decent time, and arrived near sunset a little after 4 PM.

We were staying at my great-uncle’s house — a place we’ve visited since the mid-1970s. Many memories tied up in that house. But my great-uncle was moved to a nursing home a few months ago, so the house is mostly empty. Before that, he wasn’t able to do much, especially not cook. In other words, in addition to bringing up all the food we expected to need for the week, we also brought up pots and pans, and, from my writing bag, I had my wooden spoons, can opener, and wine opener.

We relaxed on Tuesday night and went to bed early. I slept like someone knocked me unconscious.

Up early Wednesday — and it was a miserable, stormy day. We were so glad not to be on the road. We hunkered down in the little house. Maine can be spooky, with the dark and the fog and the silhouettes of trees. There’s a reason a lot of horror and thriller writers live in Maine! There’s no internet access there, so I got as much done as I could, then hopped over to the library in the early afternoon, set up there, did what I needed to do online, and came home.

My job on the big Thanksgiving holiday is to make Wednesday’s dinner for the family members who work all day setting up the Hall for the holiday feast. Hence the stroganoff. The stove in the house is AWFUL — a very old electric thing. I was glad I’d done the cooking ahead of time on my good gas stove. It took over 40 minutes to heat the meal up. And no, it couldn’t go in the microwave, it would have tasted disgusting. But we had the meal and the wonderful Portuguese bread and the dessert I made, so it was all good, not to mention the chance to sit around and talk at the meal.

The Big Day consisted of writing in the morning, and then going over to the Hall to set up. We have so many people for dinner that we rent the Legion Hall every year. Everyone tosses in a few bucks for the rental and the food. I help set up, and am in charge of the mashed potatoes and the sweet potatoes. We’re taking vats with 20-30 pounds of potatoes in each, mashed with a four-foot tall masher. Not for the faint of heart.

We had 53 people for dinner this year, of all ages. The tables are in a “U” formation, and there’s the dinner buffet set up on one side, and the dessert buffet on the other. Great food, good company, no egos or drama. The rules are, if you show up, you treat everyone with kindness and respect. Those rules are always followed.

After the dinner, the clean-up crew moves into the massive kitchen and starts washing and drying the dishes. Yes, I help with that, too. I’m on the drying team. Dishes and pans from the Hall are washed, dried, returned to their shelves; personal pans and platters are washed, dried, and set out on the counter for pick up. We all split the leftovers and then go home in a turkey coma.

Shortly after getting back to the house, my cousin (well, not sure how the permutation works, but I call her my cousin) came over and we drove into Portland to visit my great uncle. He’s in an amazing rehab/nursing facility — brightly painted walls, an outstanding, enthusiastic and very kind staff, and it smells fresh without the scent of decay or chemicals.

My great-uncle is now in a wheelchair. His memory’s fading, but he recognized us still, and lit up when he saw us. We took him down to the very cheerful dining room so he could have his dinner, and met some of the friends he’s made at the facility. It’s amazing how they all light up the minute you treat them as an individual, with kindness and dignity. Some of them are fading, mentally, but their bodies are still going strong. Many of them are still sharp as tacks, but the body hasn’t kept up. But everyone was worth spending time and few words with.

My cousin goes every day. By this point, she knows most of the staff and the other residents. She’s practically an additional staff member. She’s also an amazing human being, and I admire her enormously. A lot of it, though, is just talking to the residents like people, which is something all of us did, asking questions, listening to their stories (many of their anecdotes are hilarious — a lot of these were quite the hell-raisers, back in the day, in the best possible way).

We got my great-uncle settled for the night after dinner, and went back to the house, and packed for the trip home. My cousin feels a lot of guilt about my great-uncle being in the facility. However, it’s as good as it gets for that kind of place, and so much better than any other facility of its type I’ve ever seen. He gets excellent, round-the-clock care, which he needs. He also has interaction with other people, more so than when he was home alone, getting checked on several times a day by the family. The family simply can’t take care of him at home, because he needs round-the-clock care, and hiring three shifts/day of in-home care would still mean numerous trips to the ER whenever something went wrong — as it does, unfortunately, quite frequently at this stage in his 96 year old life. He truly has a better quality of care in the facility, and family members visit him every day. In this particular case, it was the right choice.

This is probably the last time we will be in the house. It holds many wonderful memories. There were still some things there from my grandmother (she died four years ago), which my cousin gave me — little mementoes that wouldn’t mean anything to anyone else but me, because they hold specific memories.

It’s an emotional threshhold on which to stand.

We drove back on Friday. Very smooth drive. Everyone was far too busy shopping to be on the road except around the malls. Since I don’t shop on Black Friday on principle, I was happy to have clear roads.

I don’t believe stores should open on Thanksgiving itself. I think it’s disgusting. I also believe that stores that encourage brawls — and, let’s face it, the brawls happen in the same stores every year, such as WalMart, because that’s the kind of individual those stores attract — should forfeit their right to open on both Thanksgiving and the following Black Friday, if there is an altercation in the store. The individuals involved in the altercations should be banned from the site for 18 months, so they can’t come back the following year and behave badly again.

Exhausted when we got home Friday, but got some work done Friday afternoon, and more work done on Saturday, although a lot of things went to hell without even the handbasket. I managed, however, to upload all the topics for next week’s class. All I have to do next Saturday is show up and teach. Caught up Friday night with some episodes I’d missed earlier in the week, but what is the use of On-Demand when the show is only available for three days after broadcast? WTF?

By Sunday, I felt like I’d been run over by a steamroller. I got some work done, fretted a lot, tried to rest. It was the first of advent. We managed to get the tree into the stand (the stand SUCKS and is so poorly designed, don’t even get me started). The lights are on, some ornaments are on it, the festive fabric is mostly in place, and some of the decorations are up. It will be a work-in-progress for the upcoming weeks.

I re-watched THE ITALIAN JOB last night (such fun), THE TOWN (I like it better every time I see it), and sobbed my way through ANGELS IN AMERICA. It was a brilliant piece of theatre and translated into film wonderfully.

I’m exhausted and spent, but I have work to do this morning, then I’m helping set up NMLC’s tree at the JFK Library for the Spectacle of the Trees event, and then, who knows? Maybe I’ll get to bed early.

Right now, I have to try and get some work done, and hustle more work for the coming weeks.

Devon

Thurs. Oct. 24, 2013: Costumes and Comcast

Thursday, October 24, 2013
Waning Moon
Mercury Retrograde
Sunny and cold

I knew it was too good to be true. I kept my head down for the first few days of the Mercury Retrograde and hoped for the best, and got whammed this morning when Comcast screwed me. I am so sick of them having a stranglehold on the Cape and being my ONLY choice. Where are the anti-trust laws when you need them?

Yesterday I worked at getting the screenplay on track, and I think I’m getting there, at least for this draft. Then I worked on the palate-cleanser, which is just taking off.

Sent out a few pitches, and got immediately hired on a new, potentially long-term, fun gig. My first assignment is on its way, so we’ll see how that works out.

Got in many of the plants from the deck. Working at putting everything to bed. There’s a LOT of work still to do in the yard, but I’m doing a little bit every day, and, eventually, I will get there.

Most of the afternoon was spent getting ready for the CCWC Annual Meeting (in costume). Not having to set up the ball all day and then having only 40 minutes to get ready made a big difference. I got an hour just to do the make-up, and it was much better. Getting into the corset was, of course, an adventure in itself. Next corset will be front-lace.

Since it was raining, I had to put a cloak over the costume, and maneuver the cloak and the tail. Quite the adventure.

Dinner was fun, the annual meeting part of it was quick and fun, and it was great to see familiar faces and meet some new ones.

Home at a reasonable hour, stripped out of the costume pieces back into sweats, to bed early (after taking nearly as long to scrub the make-up off as it took to put it on).

Worked with students, shot an email to an editing client asking for the new ETA on the project that was supposed to arrive on Monday. Have two articles to write in the next few days, an article to wrap (got two new sources yesterday), and an essay to get started on.

Deep breath, pull it together, move forward.

I need a nap, and it’s barely 9 AM.

Devon

Thurs. Aug. 15, 2013: Writing Hangover

Thursday, August 15, 2013
Waxing Moon
Sunny and pleasant

Yesterday was an outstanding writing day, at least for the fantasy novel. Nearly 7K. I have one or two more chapters and this section is done. Then, I skip ahead in the chronology of the piece to what will be the final third of this middle volume, then it’s off to the last volume, which seems to come full circle to where the book started, but actually goes beyond.

It meant I didn’t get much else done, but the novel burned, and it’s at a delicate, critical stage, which means it had to take first priority, and everything else had to work around it.

Six loads of laundry in the new machines. Nice to catch up.

Add to that, a former flame/old friend showed up. Fortunately, he’s very supportive of the writing, and made sure I had the cocoon in which to work. He read the mystery novel that’s going out on submission and loves it; read the draft material of the fantasy novel and was thrilled with it. This is someone who always tells me when I’ve gone off the rails on a project, so it was nice to get the positive feedback.

Did some pick ups for the Mermaid Ball and some drop offs at the libraries. Headed to the meeting, but only stayed an hour. Mermaid Ball is sold out, and things are on track. I think it will be a lovely evening.

Came back to a great dinner cooked by my friend, and we caught up. I hadn’t seen him in five years, so there was quite a bit of catching up to do!

This morning, I have to get the work done that wasn’t done yesterday, and then head East to do more Mermaid Ball pick-ups. Also going to work on the tail for my costume.

I’m going to do some work on the novel, although I’m worried I’ll get caught up in it again and everything else will fall by the wayside. Next week, that can happen, but not this week. At the same time, I can’t risk losing the momentum. My friend is here until tomorrow, so we’ll have a good chance to catch up, and he’s good about letting me work when I need to.

I’ve refused several potential students for the upcoming private student slots. If they can’t follow the instructions on the application, they are certainly not going to survive the pace, intensity, and expectations of the program. My work with private students is not a service; it’s an apprenticeship program. You meet the standards, or you’re gone. I do not lower/change the requirements. You have to rise to them. Or you are refused. Every moment spent on student work is a moment not spent on my own. I only want to spend time with students who are serious and committed to their writing.

Moment by moment. Best I can do.

Devon

Wed. May 29, 2013: The Challenge of The Travel

Wednesday, May 29, 2013
Waning Moon
Saturn Retrograde
Rainy and humid

Yesterday was certainly a challenge!

The morning started well, although I felt a wrench at being away from the garden this week. The irises are about to open. They are my favorite flower. I think they’ll have come and gone by the time I get back. The terraced back needs mowing, and I’m worried that the ants will get the upper hand while I’m gone.

But everything will rub along without me — plants were doing that for thousands of years before people started to garden!

I opened my email to find out that I’ve been contracted for 14 short articles (yes, paid) over the next seven months. I’ll do the first one next week, when I get back. I also finished and pitched another article to a different publication. Not a bad way to start the week!

The drive to Providence wasn’t bad, except for the construction work around New Bedford. If it’s the left lane that’s closed, why is that the only one moving? Because the travellers in that lane are pushy bastards, that’s why. If everyone let one person get ahead of time, and six people didn’t force their ways forward, causing the other lane to come to a grinding halt, we’d all get where we needed to go on time.

Megabus late in Providence. Turns out, the bus coming from NY broke down in CT, so they had to send another bus. However, the bus they sent was a single decker, and the Providence-NY bus was sold out as a double decker. Not everyone could get on the bus — some had to wait for another bus they were sending. Um, why didn’t anyone check the manifest for the trip BEFORE sending out a bus? We do make reservations ahead of time. There’s no reason to act surprised that there’s a line of people waiting.

Needless to say, I was on that first bus. 😉

Once we got rolling, it was okay. I ate the lunch I packed (simple– hard boiled egg, carrots, celery, radishes, a gigantic chocolate bar). I read Joelle Charbonnau’s END ME A TENOR, which was a lot of fun. I’m meeting her for a drink tonight, so I wanted to read at least something of hers!

The wifi on the bus didn’t work, and people were even having problems with cell phones, so at least it was quiet!

The problems happened from Bridgeport to New York. Should have taken maybe an hour and a half for that stretch. It took a little over three. The traffic was just backed up, it was raining and miserable.

I was glad that I packed the rain gear I wore in Iceland a few years back. It’s a light windbreaker that folds into its own pocket.

Once we disembarked in NY, we were in the midst of rush hour. Taking the escalator down into Penn Station, watching all the people scuttle around, was like descending into a colony of cockroaches. Reminded me of one of the reasons I no longer live here and have to deal with the commute.

Got the Metro Card — actually, I refilled the one I used when I was down here for Costume Imp’s birthday. Turns out they now charge you $1 for a new card, but credit you an extra $1.50 (three quarters of a ride? Huh?) if you refill. I opted for the refill.

I got the C train — I even got a seat! Headed out to Brooklyn. Humped the luggage in the rain through Ft. Greene to the place I’m staying. Imp left the key at the diner around the corner. Retrieved the key, hauled my luggage up the steps of the brownstone, and then up the steps INSIDE — tall ceilings, lots of steps.

It’s a wonderful place — and it’s the location I based the Ft. Greene brownstone in which Sophie, Fawn, and Bianca live for THE CHARISMA KILLINGS.

Greeted the animals, handed out the toys I brought, gave out pettings. The Puerto Rican street cat decided maybe I should give her some extra attention, and even climbed on the bed with me a few times. She wasn’t sure what to do next — she’s not a cuddler — but it was funny. Imp’s cats were delighted to see me and tried to convince me they haven’t been fed in at least three days. Riiiight.

Went back to the diner and had a roast chicken dinner. Yummy. Chatted with the housemates for a bit, read, waited for Imp to get back from the ballet. He had to haul out to Long Island for a photo shoot for HARPER’S BAZAAR, and had trouble getting back to the city in time for his show, too.

But we caught up, played with the cats, he lent me three more of Joelle’s books to read (and one of Pauline Gadge’s). And I lent him END ME A TENOR.

Slept like a log. I did wake up at 3 AM — like I have for the past few weeks — but got over it, rolled over, and went back to sleep.

I’m showered and dressed (although the makeup has yet to be applied). Did yoga. The younger of the two huskies and the Puerto Rican Street cat have wandered in and out a few times. Had my first cup of coffee. My run-around day bag is packed — promo materials, notebook, camera, in-case book to read, all the directions and appointments for the day.

Going to do some work with students and then a few email things — the editor of the publication to which I pitched wants to see the article, so I need to polish it and get it out. A proofreading job to which I applied says they want me, but the terms sound slimy — they want to pay by KB instead of by word or page, which sounds weird to me, and a few other things made the red flags go up.

Will foray out to get some breakfast soon, get some stuff done, and then I’m headed out for the day’s appointments, including the Indie Next Generation Book Awards at the Harvard Club tonight. I better get going!

Devon

Monday, Nov. 26, 2012: Back in the Writing Swing

The pumpkin I grew — so happy that it came up, even if it’s small!

Monday, November 26, 2012
Waxing Moon
Uranus Retrograde
Mercury goes direct this evening (thank goodness)
Cloudy and cold

First of all, check out my 200-word flash fiction piece “Love in a Wok” over on Daily Love. Drop a comment, so I know you were there!

Busy week. Wednesday morning, we were on the road by 6 AM. Even with traffic around Boston, we hit Maine a little after 9. Stores were barely open. We made a few stops; bought very little. Part of it was the budget, but there was really very little we couldn’t live without. My favorite thrift shops were a disappointment — Mercury was retrograde, there should have been all kinds of wonderful buys. Tante Tchotke abandoned me this time around! 😉

Had lunch at the Stone Dog in Windham, which is very good, and got settled in to the house. My great uncle will be 96 on Christmas Day. He’s doing pretty well for himself.

I brought the dinner for those doing the set-up, and we had a pasta with sausage-pancetta-cream sauce and some lovely Portuguese bread. Visited, read a bit, had an early night.

Up early the next day. Wrote nine pages (longhand, since I didn’t take the computer) — this piece is coming along nicely. The first four pages were challenging, hard to focus, but then I got into the rhythm of it. Made some notes on a few other things.

The dinner itself was fun — 53 people in the hall. Lots of laughter and catching up, and, as always, the four-foot potato masher and plenty of dishes! This time, we were among the last to leave. Good food, good company, no drama. We’ve been attending this gathering now for 38 years.

Tired in the evening, but read a bit. The books I’d taken with me were all a disappointment — not well-written at all.

Up early on Friday, and back on the road by 6. The fog was intense. It’s so interesting to me how different Maine fog is from Cape Cod fog. Maine fog is somehow more ominous, as though the fog itself has substance. Cape Cod fog is more ethereal, as though it reveals spirits, rather than BEING spirits.

At the last minute, we took a detour to Salem. I hadn’t been there in several years. Because we made such great time — nothing was damn open. You’d think on Black Friday, the stores would open a little earlier, even the small businesses. Nope. So we hung around until 11, when things started to come to life. The architecture is gorgeous there. I hope to take Costume Imp up in the spring.

We got home a little after 1, thoroughly exhausted. Unpacked. The cats had figured out how to pry open the basement door, took their toys downstairs, and that’s where I think they spent most of their time. Got some writing done.

Up very early on Saturday, delighted to be home again. Started getting down the Yule-tide decorations. Spent 4 1/2 hours ironing seasonal fabric, and got the tree in the stand. This year, I managed to get the hardware to work so the tree is steady. Not that it has anything to do with the directions, but it works. That, and three loads of laundry took up the entire day.

Yesterday, I wrote. Pretty much all day. I tweaked the Fearless Ink website — it needs a complete overhaul, but it looks a bit better. I got started on my new brochure, but I’m having graphics issues, getting the graphic sized properly to fit the space. I revised a novella, which will be released later this week, and started tweaking some short stories, which will also release shortly. I worked with my tarot students, caught up on my Greek/Roman Mythology class, took the quiz, and wrote a paper for that class on justice. Ties in with the Harpy trilogy nicely.

Up early again today, and lots to do — have to get back to the decorating — everything’s a mess. Have to get the novella released, run errands, deal with admin crap. Too much to do and not enough hours in the day! But I’m feeling cheerful, even if I don’t feel fully prepared to deal with the season.

Devon

Reminder: Flash 7 Workshop from Dec. 7-16 — write, revise, submit 7 Flash Fiction pieces in 10 days! Details here!

Thurs. Jan. 19, 2012: Even the Cat is Busy

Tessa

Thursday, January 19, 2012
Waning Moon
Still dark out

It’s supposed to be pretty stormy tonight into tomorrow, some snow, but not a lot. I’ll know what today’s weather is like in a bit when I leave for yoga.

Owner came to work on the wall yesterday. I got as much done as I could — a lecture on the writer’s need to remember he is a business person AND an artist, and that the two don’t cancel each other out, plus critiquing the latest 5 in 10 stories. With 32 in the class, and the lengths now in the just over 1K range, that’s 32K minimum for me to read, twice a week, which takes awhile.

Worked on my short stories. Not happy with the progress on either novel these past two weeks.

Went to a library one town over. Got out a book I need as research for the current assignment for Confidential Job #1, and some books that just looked interesting. Happens when I’m around books. On the sale shelf was an enormous, brand-new Monet book. The sign said $1 for sale shelf items, but I figured this book must have been left there by mistake. Nope. It was for sale and it was $1. I bought it. When I got home, the flap was still on — original price $75. Now THAT’s a sale! I’d love to do a collection of short stories inspired by his paintings of women by the sea or walking through gardens. There’s an optional assignment for the class next month to do a short story based on a painting — I’m going to use Hopper’s painting of a woman in a theatre lobby — but the plates in these books give me more ideas. I’d love to do a collection of short stories based on the work of each painter. A few years ago, a poet put out a volume of poems inspired by Hopper’s work. I’ve got it here somewhere — not unpacked yet.

I’ve got two sets of interview questions to get out for future guests on the book blog.

Last night was the Writers’ Night Out dinner. It was at a nice restaurant in Yarmouth. Sat with a memoirist I’d met at an earlier event, and met some new-to-me people who were very interesting, too. I like that the conversations at these events is always wide-ranging. So often at these types of events, conversation focuses on desperation of not being published (and that’s usually because the ones who want to be published aren’t actually using the butt glue and getting any writing done). Here, writers are writing, but they’re also doing all kinds of interesting things and can talk about them. The balance is better and the attitude is healthier.

The speaker was interesting, and I got to toss a few ideas around with him after the event. I also got to talk to my friend, who wants to get together for our next meeting on the theatre piece, and the Center’s director, who’s interested in having me speak at one of the breakfast meetings, which I think would be tons of fun.

When I came back, I discovered that Miss Tessa Houdini, the kitten, had not only found a way to get the dishwasher door open, she’d filled up the dishwasher. And not with dishes, but with pieces of paper and cat toys. Well, she sees me filling it up, so she figured she should “help out”. It was hilarious. The papers were in the slots for dishes and the cat toys were in the cutlery holders. She is extremely organized. And she was very, very proud of herself. The other two cats were running around howling. Typical evening, in other words. Tessa has Stuff To Do, while the other two act like the sky is falling.

Trouble getting up this morning — wanted to stay in bed. But I hauled myself out, and I’m trying to get a bit of writing done before I head to yoga. More work on the wall later this morning, must push through the student work, get further on Confidential Job #1’s assignment, get some paperwork filed, mail a signed copy of a book for a friend, and then, tonight, I’m attending a women’s health lecture.

Holiday Hocus Pocus will be a fun class. Even though it only runs a week, students will have a year’s worth of resources by the end of it, and notes that will serve them, probably, for the next five to ten.

I gave some students advice yesterday about “batch outlining” — outlining several projects in the space of a few days, and then working one’s way through, project by project. I think I might need to take some of my own advice. I’m a little derailed in my own schedule of the projects that need to get done and out this year, and I need to get back on track.

You know the drill: 1000 words a day, at least 5 days a week. Such is the life of a working writer. And most of the time, you damn well better be doing more than 1K/day, and it better be on more than one project, if you expect to keep a roof over your head.

To the page, and then to yoga.

Devon

New Year’s Day — First Day of the New Decade!

Friday, January 1, 2010
Waning Moon
Mars Retrograde
Mercury Retrograde
Snowy and cold
New Year’s Day

Happy New Year! Happy New Decade!

I hope you all had fun entering it.

My Goals, Dreams, and Resolutions for the coming year are up on the GDR site. Hop over, take a look, add your own if you like, or just use the questions for your own musings.

I had a pretty quiet day, reading and writing. Elsa’s not well again, so I was worried. I made an appointment with the vet for Tuesday morning, and am hoping that she won’t need to be rushed to emergency services before then. She was better in the afternoon, then had another bad bout in the evening, then got better during the night and into the morning.

I’m reading the biography of Emily Post that I bought at the Riverrun Bookstore in Portsmouth, ME right before Thanksgiving. It’s very good.

Burned bayberry incense and part of a bayberry candle for incoming prosperity and good health. Will burn more incense today and burn down the rest of the candle.

Started work on Universal Principles. Good start, but the scenes aren’t taking as many pages/words to write as I expected. Since this is a fairly fast-paced piece, I think that’s probably a good thing.

Lovely dinner of salmon in a garlic teriyaki sauce, sweet potatoes, leek-and-potatoes in mushroom sauce, and the rest of the green beans in hollandaise. Small group of friends made for a calm celebration, but full of laughter.

Blue Moon/Full Moon/Year End ritual went well. All of the cats participated, of course. They have to be right in the middle of EVERYTHING. Besides, they love ritual.

Set the herring over the “saintly” eggs and ate them before midnight, so long-standing family tradition fulfilled. Not a huge fan of herring. I really like smoked eel, but herring, not so much.

H’ors d’ouevres and champagne leading up to midnight. The general consensus is that my deviled eggs, which evolved from the SILVER PALATE recipe, are better than the “saintly” egg recipe I tried this year. Fortunately, I made both, so we could chow down.

The cats don’t usually pay any attention to alcohol, but, for some reason, champagne fascinates them — the bottle, the cork, the noise, the bubbles, all of it. It’s really funny.

So we had our toast to the New Year at midnight, threw open the windows (brr) to let out the old energy from last year and welcome in the new energy from the new decade. I opened the front door, took the big besom and swept out the old luck, making room for the new (and welcoming a lovely First Footer).

If you aren’t familiar with the custom of First Footing, download my Jain Lazarus adventure “First Feet” which weaves the custom into the story! 😉

People in the building started returning from their various parties aroudn 1 or 2 in the morning. Some numbnut slammed the door so hard that one of my display tables toppled over and about a half a dozen ornaments broke. So, later this afternoon, I will set up Ornament Hospital to fix them.

I’m not sticking to strict writing schedule today, since it is a holiday, but I do want to spend some time at the page. There was a very relevant line for today’s card in THE MEDICINE WOMAN INNER GUIDEBOOK: “The strands of life continually pull you from all directions until you take command of the reins of power within your being.” That’s a very kind, supportive way of saying, “No more excuses for not leading the life you want to lead.”

Off to make eggs benedict (another tradition: pork before noon on New Year’s Day), burn the incense, burn the candle, watch the Rose Parade. New Year’s morning ritual was lovely. Cornish hen for dinner with potatoes, carrot-and-parsnip, and I’m not sure what green vegetable yet. There are plenty of sweets for dessert, including a wonderful box of cookies from Costume Imp.

Today I will take as a holiday, a time of rest and renewal. Tomorrow I begin implementing the new GDRs. We had a lovely dusting of snow — it looks gorgeous around here.

Happy New Year!

Devon

Wednesday, November 25, 2009

Wednesday, November 25, 2009
Waxing Moon
Uranus Retrograde
Cloudy and mild

I’m headed up to Maine for the Big Dinner with 50+ people. It’s always wonderful — especially since the agreement is to keep conflict outside the door, and, for over 30 years, that’s the way it works.

It will be slightly bittersweet this year. My grandmother died a few days before Thanksgiving last year, and, while we missed her, she still felt very present, especially since her memorial service was the day after Thanksgiving. This year will be the year we realize she’s truly gone.

I’m feeling tired and run down from all the dealings with scumbag landlords and corrupt state agencies. Too many entities feel they are above the law. And they count on grinding down those who won’t just roll over and take it. I’m glad to have a few days to regroup and dig in again.

Migraine yesterday didn’t help, either.

In the category of Unbelievable Ignorance, I was tweeting about editing/revision/cutting with some people and mentioned how much I love to cut and edit and that “The Red Machete is my best friend” meaning I use a red pen when I edit and I cut a lot. I’m not unnaturally attached to words, I know nothing is ever wasted, etc. So what happens? In a matter of minutes, I get a slew of nasty emails and DMs from right wing nuts accusing me of all kinds of things because they think “Red Machete” has a political or religious connotation. Which, of course, it doesn’t — I did my research before starting to use the term. Don’t these people have lives? They’ve already proven they don’t have brains or hearts, but one would think they’d have more important things to do than troll the internet and attack people for imagined contexts.

It’s part of the deal if you’re going to be out in public, and, if you’re a writer, you have to spend a certain amount of time out where people can take shots at you. If you’re going to cave or threaten to pack up your toys and go home every time someone behaves like a dick, this is not the line of work that’ll make you happy. I have no problem with legitimate discussion of different points of view, but in our current Culture of the Screech, far too many people make judgements with nothing to back it up.

Let’s just say being offline for a few days will be good for both body and soul! 😉

Ran errands. Baked Toll House Cookies. Made a shepherd’s pie big enough to feed 10 people. Cooked dinner for myself and another. We did all the dishes. At the time I had to post this, I still had to wrap presents and decide what the heck I’m wearing to The Dinner!

The shepherd’s pie tray doesn’t fit into the cooler, so I have to build a make-shift cooler to transport it and the cheesecakes. Oy!

When I get back, I need to go back to storage and get out all my other cookie sheets. I accumulated a lot of them over the years, especially the year I baked 30 cakes and 1200 cookies. I’m not going quite that far this year, but it will be . . .a lot.

I love using parchment paper to line the sheets, though. I prepped all the sheets with parchment, stacked them, then just filled them and slid them into the oven.

Considering I have a galley kitchen, it’s amazing how much I can get done!

Signing off until the weekend. Have a great holiday, everyone!

Devon