This Endless Summer

Saturday morning filled with the smell of hot pancakes and the sound of Philip's wheezy cough, boys shouting in excitement at some video game, and my aching leg muscles. (Apparently it's quite a work out to pretend to get in a knock down drag out fight with another person for an hour.) 

Oh, that reminds me- in Kung Fu class when we were doing the exercises in which we had to knock each other to the ground in a complicated set of moves meant to bring down an assailant and get them in an elbow lock on the ground- we had to practice it with a bunch of different people in the class.  This one guy I had to practice with is about my height or a little shorter and when it was his turn to practice the moves on me, every time he had to swing his leg over my head he said "Oh God! You're huge!".  And because we practice several times in a row for each turn I got to hear him say that three times in a row.  "Oh god!  You're huge!"

I will admit that he is a person who has some kind of developmental challenge.  But still.  No girl likes to hear that.  And there is no way to respond to such an exclamation.  I wanted to retaliate by saying, during my turn, "My God!  You're short!"  but the thing is, we're supposed to be kind and practice peaceful principles.  And anyway, what would that have accomplished?  But his little comment keeps ringing through my head like a funereal bell.

I'm so bummed to hear that everyone is getting so violent and riled up over the idea of health care "reform" when the president has already squashed the idea of single payer universal health care (which I'm pretty steamed about).  So what's everyone upset about?  If the government isn't going to step up to the plate and do single payer universal health care then any other reform is just a band aid and can't possibly be threatening to anyone.  So everyone should just pipe down, put their guns away, and shove their fear back into their dark stuffy narrow minded closets.

There, I've said it.

I actually threatened my peace of mind to read the news about this issue just to see what everyone was getting so freaked about, only to find out that the thing everyone seams to fear the most isn't even on the table so everyone is arguing for no reason.

There is so much I should be doing today: clean the kitchen, put away vacation things, clean bathrooms, do laundry, lots and lots of laundry, change sheets, make food, go have a meeting about a little writing gig, and then drink beer.  Whew!  (I was very good this week and didn't drink any alcohol for 4 days.  After tonight it's back to the tee-totaling grind.)

What I really want to be doing is reading my stash of Mary Stewart* suspense novels.  Dammit she's so good!  But it's having the effect on me of making me never want to write again because she uses such rich and diverse language to tell her stories- how often have you encountered the word "gallimaufry"?  I had to look that one up.  She uses words like: scree, gully, buttresses, and crenelated.  She pays such great attention to details but never loses you in them like Dickens and Falkner do. 

Some good observations are that she also uses quite a lot of fractured sentences in places and she also makes up some words.  So I'm in good company that way.  But oh man...I want to write the modern version of that genre.  I really do.  Not spies and guns and giant breasted women in leather and racy cars kind of suspense but the kind where ordinary people get caught up in a dangerous tangle of adventure.  Oh, but I love that because Mary Stewart wrote most of her suspense novels in the fifties and sixties- her main characters (always women) go around having their adventures in frocks.  And their frocks get dirty. 

School doesn't start here until September 8.  That's a long way away.  It seems like this summer is just going to go on forever.  I'm really tired of it now.  I'm ready for school to start again.  That will be good for all of us here at the loony farm.

Did I mention that my thigh muscles are incredibly sore?

I am coming to terms with the fact that I am not going to be able to do much canning at all this year.  It's a little devastating but there just isn't going to be time.  Somehow I think this is just the year for stripping down to the fresh start.  The book was/is more important this year.  This is also the first year in many that I've been gainfully employed and that takes a lot of time.  This time last year I was so horribly depressed and feeling demoralized trying to find work and not knowing how everything was going to pan out-but I had plenty of time for canning and freezing things.  Here I am- with a great job, and a great house, no debt (no money either) and getting back on the road to better mental health.  Not to mention that I've made a huge breakthrough with the writing this year. 

So I don't think I can spend too much time being bummed out for what I don't have time for.  What a waste that would be.  Next year I may find it easier to make time for preserving if my house is in better order and if I can send Max to day camp. 

What are you all up to?!  (By the way, I've been slowly making my rounds to your blogs again though I haven't managed to always comment). 






*Oh my god- she's still alive!!  I didn't know that!