Category Archives: Writing

Family, Writing

Kate

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Winter                                             Full Cold Moon

Kate goes back to work on Monday, February 1st.  Right now I believe she’ll do ok.  Her hip injections–cortisone–have helped.  Her neck has been fine during this period, but she will have to return to odd angles while looking into young eyes, ears and throats.  The computer ergonomics in the office are not ideal for her either.  She’s gotten more and more exercise in over the last few weeks and I hope that means that her stamina is sufficient.

We’ll take it, as they say, a day at a time.

I wish I didn’t have the Woolly Retreat coming up over the weekend, but she’s not working weekends, at least not right now, so there will only be Thursday and Friday nights when I’m not here.  Of course, if she experience difficulty, I’ll give it a miss.

The novel keeps on coming.  In retrospect I think it was the novel that kept me up the other night.  Since I write without much of a plan, it’s quite easy for me to write myself into a corner, or to realize that early ideas, some woven into much of what I’ve written, no longer work.  Both happened with this one.

Since I’m nearing what will be the middle of the book in number of words, the arc of the story has to reach a certain dramatic point here and I had to fiddle with a good bit of the already written material to make that possible.  Part of the change, inevitable really, involves pruning excess characters, locales and plot lines.  When I did this, I reduced the plot lines to three, much easier for a reader to follow.  I also created a key  plot point that will allow all these plot lines to converge further along, and I hope, diverge again as I set up the second book.

Family, Writing

Oh, Boy! The truck jack is in!

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Winter                                         Waxing Cold Moon

Hacking away at the keyboard.  I’m up to 32,500 words and still chugging along, having fun.

Good news!  The truck jack we ordered came into Carlson Toyota.  That means I get to go out in the garage, jack up the truck and remove its left front tire and take it over to Carlson for repair.  Then, reverse the action.  Big fun.  At the same time I can disassemble the garage door opener replaced last Friday.  That way the trash will pick it up.  Oh, and while I’m out there I may as well disassemble all those boxes.

Kate’s back from seeing Dr. Bewin.  He’s her physiatrist, the doc who treats pain, recommends physical therapy and acts as her overall signal caller when it comes to degenerative disc disease.  The bursitis, which he thinks also has some tendinitis and myofascitis as companions, is, according to him, difficult to treat.  Cortisone injections and increased anti-inflammatory may help.

Aging, Dreams, Writing

Living in Alien Land

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Winter                                        Waxing Cold Moon

The NFC championship game  is today.  You know where I’ll be.  Yup.  Right there in the chair, cheering on the Vikes.  After dispassionately reading all the match-up analysis and carefully considering all the key information, I still believe the Vikes win a close one.  Adrian Peterson dominates the running game.  We keep Drew Brees and his high flyers off the field.  Favre connects with Rice twice, Shiancoe once, Berrian once and Peterson goes in for one.  Jared Allen and Ray Edwards keep Brees out of his rhythm and don’t allow deep balls.  Vikes 35.  Saints 28.

I had a strange dream last night.  Somehow I got a job working in a financial company, investment company, something like that.  Our financial planner, RJ Devick, worked there.  I did some work that needed to be turned in by a specific time, but couldn’t find either a phone or the work.  Borrowed RJ’s phone, still couldn’t find the work.

All the while Izzy, the famous Hawai’ian singer, sang background music, “Living in an alien land.”  This was to the tune of his protest song, “Living in a sovereign Land.”

I went out for a while, came back to the office (music still playing) and I had red rock dust on a sweatshirt and I realized I had way under dressed for work.  I couldn’t go back in.  I went out to get the Celica and it had one of those tiny spares on it–though in this case it was very large and shredded.

I’m still working on this one.  Guess I recalled it after my Jung tribute.

Might have been related to some reading I did in a journal from 1991, written as I separated from the Presbytery and started writing.  Some of it made my teeth clench.  I planned and planned, struggled this way and that, but had trouble finding a new  way, even though what I wrote there made clear the ministry had never been the way.  A hard time even though I was breaking free, or, maybe, a hard time because I was breaking free.  There would be another ten years of on again off again angst as I wrote, got rejected, failed to market my work, felt like a failure, was a failure.

Then, somewhere in my 50’s I began to realize I had broken through into the life this Self came into the world to live.  It’s not a flashy or big life–as I wanted at times before–it’s a life devoted to family, beauty, the earth, creativity and knowledge.

And, at least for this evening–the Vikings.

Politics, Writing

Writing

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Winter                            Waxing Cold Moon

“I believe that unarmed truth and unconditional love will have the final word in reality. This is why right temporarily defeated is stronger than evil triumphant.”   MLK

Today has been a rest day, at least from the grandkids.  Jon and Jen are back at work and I head over there at 5:00 for  our dinner out this evening.

I wrote all morning, pushing my draft further along.  It’s going well in a way that surprises me, flowing for the most part.  It makes me feel good, productive in a way other things don’t, even the garden and politics.  I suspect that’s because it is an act with little in t he way of intermediaries, at least in the creative phase and in that regards represents me most fully.

Of course, that’s also the frightening part, the exposure of the Self to others with no screens, no personas.

Commentary on Religion, Faith and Spirituality, Humanities, Literature, Writing

Theodicy

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Winter                                      Waning Moon of Long Nights

Explanations of theodicy run aground on Haiti, just as they do on the Holocaust, Rawandi, Sudan.  When a nation as poor and crippled as Haiti gets hit with a major earthquake, how does one reconcile that with a loving and just God?  No intellectual fancy footwork can answer that question.

I’m reading a book sent to Kate by Jon, Children of Dust.  It’s a memoir of a young Punjabi who makes several circuits through various perspectives on Islam from conservative to fundamentalist to ethnic and, I understand, eventually out.  This is the second memoir I’ve read recently, the other being Escape, about the FLDS.

With this one I have doubts about the accuracy of it.  Memoirs are tricky at best, memory changes as we remember, in fact it changes before it becomes solid memory.  Eye witness accounts are, according to some criminologists, the most unreliable testimony.

There is, of course, the need all of us to be the heroes in our own story,  the need to smooth out the most raggedy parts of our performance as a human being.  There is a desire to be accepted that goes beyond this tendency to encourage putting the very best light on what we do.  In addition, the most memorable moments are emotionally  highly charged and therefore subject to distortion in the moment, much less over time.

And each of these can loop back on themselves to create another level of distortion.  That is, I admit my tendency to smooth out the raggedy parts so I show you raggedy parts.  In fact, I may make them grimmer than they were in order to convince you I’m honest, which I’m not.  Anyhow, the labyrinth here is difficult at best.

Children of Dust is worth a read, perhaps less as a memoir than as an impression of the complex lives Muslims live in contemporary world culture.  It succeeds brilliantly in doing that.

Writing

Offensive Play

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Winter                                               Waning Moon of Long Nights

As my new novel has grown into its second chapter, my writing here has become more and more about the weather.  Not a light hearted topic in Minnesota, nor one lacking interest, at least for me, still it’s not the only thing going on here.

There is, for example, football.  Cybermage and good friend Bill Schmidt sees a play-off scenario where the Green Packers return to the Dome–They’re Baaaaaccck–for a third go at former teammate Brett Favre, for the NFC championships and for the right to play in the big game.  Bill seems to think third times a charm, but in the parlance of the NFL, it’s just another game.

On a much more sobering note, I commend the following article to anyone with even the slightest interest in football.  Offensive Play, written by Malcolm Gladwell, asks if dogfighting (Michael Vick) is, in the end, very different from football. In specific, it chronicles a recent uptick in interest among brain scientists and neurologists in the impact of repeated impacts to the head, many of them not enough in themselves to produce a concussion, but enough to set stage for one.  This article would make me pull my kid out of football and makes me wonder, not about the dogfighting comparison so much, but about the oft made comparison between football and the gladiatorial arena of ancient Rome.  At least there you died right away, not gibbering and slow.

Lou Creekmur, former offensive lineman for the Detroit Lions and eight-time Pro Bowl player, was diagnosed with CTE by neuropathologist and CSTE co-director Ann McKee, MD. Creekmur played 10 seasons for the Detroit Lions, and was famous for breaking his nose 13 times while playing without a facemask. He died July 5, 2009 from complications of dementia following a 30-year decline that included cognitive and behavioral issues such as memory loss, lack of attention and organization skills, increasingly intensive angry and aggressive outbursts.

Three brain sections from Mr. Creekmur showing dense tau deposits (brown) in the insula (1), temporal (2) and frontal (3) cortices, amygdala (4) and hippocampus (5) in the absence of beta amyloid plaques. A normal control brain would not show any brown discoloration.

Cooking, Writing

Time Enough

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Winter                                     Waning Moon of Long Nights

I’ve had a long stretch of no tours at the museum, little direct work for the Sierra Club and, of course, no gardening.  That means I’ve had plenty of time to focus on writing and I’m well into a new novel and have the research underway for Liberal II:  The Present.  It’s nice to have extensive time at home, especially when the weather has been as brutal as it has been.

The act of writing has a therapeutic edge, no matter what form the writing takes, but when the writing is fiction, something else comes into the act.  I don’t know what it is, other generations have called it the muse, inspiration, an angel, a devil but it does feel like there’s a second party in on the action.

We got our mutual present to each other today, a Kitchen Aid Artisan stand-mixer.  Bread and pasta are on  my mind.  As Kate has been home since mid-October, I’ve noticed a tendency to put more time and love in to the act of cooking and to put more of a focus on the kitchen.  I enjoy it.

Family, Great Work, Weather +Climate, Writing

Let There Be (which) Light?

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Samhain                         Waning Wolf Moon

The snow continues and the wind now gusts around 12 mph.  Accumulation so far is minimal, but NOAA says the storm will pick up energy tonight and continue on through tomorrow afternoon.  Afterward, the temperature will drop below zero at night and remain in the single digits for highs through Tuesday.  This means winter has come on apace.  Average over these same dates is 27-28 with lows in the teens.  Since October our months have been on a sine curve, wonder if that means January will be balmy?  Unlikely, since it’s typically our coldest month, but with the new weather regimen, who knows?

We began a while ago to swap out incandescents for CFLs, though there are still places like stairwells and coat closets where the instant on power of the Edison heritage bulbs still make sense.  We’ll switch to LEDSs when they become affordable and equivalent.  It’s still difficult to find CFLs that really match the brightness of incandescents though halogens work well.  These transition periods are difficult, finding the new tech that performs as well as the old one takes time, sometimes several generations of the new one.  We’re not there yet with efficient lighting.  The LED light shown here retails for $129.00.  Yikes!

Oddly, the post on which I’ve received the most comments was one on the Sunday throat.  Apparently other folks in the US have friends who find the term odd.  Several folks wrote in to say that their family used it.

Thursday is Jon’s 41st birthday.  Wow.  I met when he was 21.  His life has changed a lot since then.  Most notably sobriety, marriage, two kids, home ownership and a good job.  It’s been fun to see him grow.

Art and Culture, Family, Holidays, Politics, Writing

Ordinary Time

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Samhain                                      Waxing Wolf Moon

Michele Bachmann and Sarah Palin to attend February Tea Party Convention.  That should be fun.  Seeing these two damsels of the right dancing to the tune of the real wierdos would be entertaining for anyone interested in politics.  I’d watch a 2-minute video just to see them on stage together.  They could discuss hair and glasses and kissing GW.

Mary left this morning on the 7:38 Northstar headed for the airport.  The strange action of the international date line has her leaving on Monday and arriving home on Wednesday, coming here she left on Tuesday around 6 a.m. and got here Tuesday at 11:00 a.m., something like that.  Both ways the flight involves 21-24 hours.  And I find daylight savings time confusing.  Under any circumstances the air temperature will double when she gets home, perhaps a bit more.

Ordinary time has slipped back into the house for the moment with family gone and the leftovers much reduced.  I worked on MIA business a bit this morning and will spend some time today getting the Sierra Club legislative committee focused for a December meeting.

After that I can continue my declutter campaign.  It goes pretty well.  My study has remained clear and I’ve removed several things from it, some in anticipation of the arrival of my Anthro computer desk.  On it will go the Gateway I bought in the summer.  I plan to use it only for art history research and creative writing.

Art and Culture, Writing

Electile Dysfunction.

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Fall                            Waxing Dark Moon

Electile dysfunction (hanging Chads?).    Dam Yangtzes (Will they make the World Series?).  Random thoughts generated by recent news pieces.

A tour with business students from the Metropolitan Community and Technical College.  This was a group of engaged and well-spoken young adults, roughly 24-28.  Their questions and observations brought out the grace of the Shiva, the durability of Vishnu and the cosmic elegance of Yamantaka.   They were a pleasure.

Allison gave Kate a book.  Thanks, Allison, for thinking of her.  Very sweet.

The day continues our string of cold, wet weather.  A good day to nap.  Which.  I intend to do.  Right Now.