A Break to Say Where I've Been

As I'm sure you probably already knows by now, I went to New York the weekend of ComiCon, but there's a back story.

Soon after the last post I wrote, I had an epiphany of awesome proportions. I've had this little pet story line for a couple years, which I've picked at and played with, but never gotten to formulate into a full-on plot. While I was mulling over what to do with my webcomic side project, questioning ad nauseum if it was even a good enough story to put the effort to, I thought of my old story, "What a perfect graphic novel!" 

The flood gates opened. As soon as I considered the format, it was like the entire plot came spilling out and I had to write! I decided that it was the perfect excuse to run away to my favorite New York couch for an impromptu writing retreat. While I was there, it just so happened that Shane had an extra pass to ComiCon. It was a killer opportunity to get an idea for what I was getting into- to speak with other writers, illustrators, network, and maybe taste the industry a bit. It was overwhelming, but in a good way. I came away fully charged, and with a goal: I was going to have my own booth for ComiCon 2013.

It's lofty, I know, but still...

I've been writing like crazy ever since and I'm about three quarters of the way done with my first draft. There is a long way to go, and a lot still to figure out, but I'm feeling the progress and I'm pumped. Maybe I'll get lucky and finish before NaNoWriMo (November is National Novel Writing Month)- that would be fantastic!

Art Dilemma

    I've been all sorts of distracted for a few weeks. So many fun new disasters have come along that I almost forgot what I want the most!
    I was having the most fun in ages when I was regularly writing the comic collaboration with Jason, but the breaks got slammed when life happened to my artist and I was churning out pages faster than he could meet them with panels.
    I tried to compensate starting another comic project. This time I intended to draw it myself. Dusting off my art supplies, however, proved harder than I expected, and I haven't even tried Photoshop yet.
    So now I face a dilemma. Do I spend triple the time drawing for the end of a writing medium, or do I try to find another artist?

The Cats

This week we adopted a couple of furry family members.

I'm not sure how long ago we first spoke of getting a pet, but the discussion ended last week with a mouse. Living in this city, mice are just a part of life. But this little bugger avoided every trap, precaution, and tactic we threw at it. Late one night, standing in his underwear with a salad bowl in hand, Jason declared we were getting a cat and that was that.

We considered just getting a kitten on craigslist- kittens are playful, cute, cheap, and perfectly trainable, clean slates. But when I started browsing the website for the Animal Rescue League of Boston, I started to melt. There are so many sweet animals in shelters waiting for forever-homes. And for the amount of vet care that the ARL puts into them, adoption is an amazing deal. A new kitten would cost upward of $500 for first year care alone. I asked Jason and he agreed adoption was the way to go.

The ARL site listed a pair of cats that caught my eye- a 1 year old black and white tuxedo American Short-Hair and his all-white brother. I called the ARL and was given scads of information. I learned that they had come from a placed that was overpopulated with cats. This left them neglected and drastically shy. Their socialization had been the focus of their care, with great results, but they still had a way to go. This, their age, and a prior rash on the white cat's neck had all worked against them when it came to adoption. They'd been there for 5 months (that's a long time to be in a shelter, in case you didn't know). But there was wonderful news. Because of their special case, the ARL was willing to adopt them out for the price of one!

Funny little coincidence- that night I found out that it was "Adopt a Less Adoptable Pet Week."

We hadn't told the kids our plan, in case something didn't work out. So we broke the news the next morning to much excitement. Before I said anything about the cats I'd found, Lala said "Can we get an all-white kitty?"
"As a matter of fact," I grinned.

We went to the ARL after Cal got home from school. We finally got to meet the cats, and despite their timidness had a great experience with the children playing with them. Five minutes in the room with them and I was in love. They were so sweet and full of personality! As we moved forward with the adoption the shelter started buzzing- volunteers kept spreading the news "The Brothers are getting adopted!" There were cheers and high-fives, congratulations and assurance of the cats' general awesomeness. It was such a happy day.

They were already in their carriers, so we had to hold up their pictiures 

Now the newly named Sherlock and Watson are getting acclimatized to their new home and family.   I'd be lying if I said that their timidness didn't get to me now and then. But they are warming up in strides and I have great hope and assurance from my Cat-people friends. And it's nice to just have them around. They are already a pleasant addition to the household.

Scary Things

Have you ever tried something that scared you a little?

Somewhere growing up, in between the American Dream and New Wave Feminism, I got the impression that if it scares you a little, you're doing it right. I can't say that I actually ever experienced what that means, being alternately  too crazy/stupid or too cowardly. Yes, my name is Heather Louise and I am a chicken.

Now I'm experiencing it.

I've been skating with a few other beginners about twice a week for three weeks. It's done about a tablespoons worth of good. Saturday was the first day of Fresh Meat Training and I got the piss knocked out of me. Seriously. By time I got home I was bruised from my butt to my ego. I started to question whether I could actually do this.

Part of me wavered till the other day when I got a good talkin-to from an unlikely source- my mother. Ms. I-don't-like-this-but-I'll-play-along-with-your-shenanigans. She spent a good ten minutes telling me about all the skills Derby would give me and how they could be applied to the real world. She talked about how when we pay attention to life, life tends to hand us exactly what we need. And she told me that if I was feeling chicken, so stare the situation in the face and say "Bring it on!" It was just what I needed.

It got me thinking about other things that scare me, like speaking up about values I believe in and "getting involved." I think it's time I make a list of scary things and start doing them.

Am I still afraid for the next practice? Yes. But I'm ready to face it head on. And I'm armed with a puke-bucket.

Trippin'

This is coming to you via my phone because I couldn't use a keyboard if I tried. Trust me- I have tried. It all started a few weeks ago when a slight tweak in my medications caused (among other things) the forgetting of appointments, one-off tasks, and the watering of my plants. I took my crisp menagerie as a cue to find a more resilient hobby.
For ages a friend had been talking about a newfound love of Flat Track Roller Derby, swearing it was perfect for me. After a little encouragement I started researching. A few YouTube films and a book later, I was seriously crushing. After my first live bout I was completely in love.
I ordered my skates over the phone to make sure they would ship over night (indie retail trick), then waited all day for them to arrive. When they finally came I could've been more pleased; a perfect fit, wheels that practically move on their own- if we didn't live on the second floor I'd be living in them!
But they were going to take some practice- these were no Roller-rink skates. I only got about 20 minutes of practice in before sundown on day one, but decided to skate to work the next morning anyway. I put on all my gear except elbow pads, because seriously, who hurts their elbow except in derby?
Well, after about the 4th fall I decided I had better walk for the time being, lest I be late for work.
That's when I noticed the pain in my arm. The more time passed, the less I could move it. By the afternoon I had a useless throbbing right angle of an appendage. Lesson learned: always wear ALL your pads.
The worse part is that now I have to wait to skate again.

Adventures in Electronics

   I'm one of those weird people that likes to personify inanimate objects. Mind you, I'm not random about it- I don't go around naming toasters. I stick to electronics. After all, you have to "register a device name to activate" the darn things most of the time anyway, so you might as well come up with something creative, right? 

   Somehow my new phone was definitely a dude. I decided to name it Crowley after my favorite sleek, sexy, super smart character who always wears black (all the more appropriate given that my computer's name is Aziraphale).

   I'd been complaining since I got the phone that it needed a case before I scratched it to pieces. I spent way more time than I care to share combing the internet for "just the right case." It was quite pathetic. Finally Jase said "There are some alright cases at Target- I'm just going to pick up one for you next time I go." So the other day Jason came home with this sweet little phone case that's just right. It's pretty and feminine without being overly girly, and neutral without being too kitsch. And I didn't have to deal with picking it out- see? Perfect for me. Except...now Crowleyis a man in a dress. 

Multifaceted

   I think that demon that's possessed me of late is running for Martha Stewart Impersonator of the Year. Oh, yes, the unprovoked craft-craziness continues!

   But first and foremost: I can make plants! Yes, my friends, the Windowsill Experiment has been a success so far; we have six peat cups filled with teeny tiny green sprouts. I couldn't be more proud of not killing something.
   But leaf had hardly touched air before I was seized once again, this time with the urge to sew-anything! Mind you, I suck at sewing. Really suck. I haven't sewn anything but the hem of Jason's pants in about two years. But this Spirit must have known what it was doing, because I got Lola (my machine) down from her top shelf, dusted her off, and I tell you it was like magic. I ironed, I pinned, placed, and in 2 and a half hours I had a new skirt! Just like that- and not a half bad skirt, either! I wasn't finished, though. This afternoon I was at it again. With a little sweat and imagination I got this strawberry tart apron.
   Being of multiple minds is effecting more than just my crafts though. Last week I had three job interviews: the coffee shop, the jewelry store, and the hat shop. I wanted the hat shop the most and in all my conversation with the manager, he's practically spouted sonnets to me. But he wanted to wait on the second interview until his co-manager could get back from a business trip. In the mean time, first the coffee shop called me up and offered me the job. They don't want me in till Monday, so I still have time to change my mind. But today, the jewelry shop, which I wanted second, sent me an email offering me the job and asking me to come in on Thursday!
   I'm in over my head. Maybe I should stick with plants- they're so much less complicated than people.

What would you do? Should I just take up Watercolor next?

Growing Obsession

  Have you ever admired something obscure only to wake up on a random day and say "I'm going to be a carpenter!" or "I'm going to train for a marathon!" with no prior experience? Good, then you'll understand when I tell you I got possessed by a gardening demon the other day.
   I tell you, nothing inspired it. I simply went from "I'd like a container garden...maybe sometime," to "I will garden NOW!" I can't even really recall how I got from the initial thought to eyeballs deep in mail order seed websites.
  With super speed I ascertained that growing a container garden was cheap ( or at least cheaper than I thought or could spend on something else), easy to maintain, and possible on my little back porch. All of these have yet to be determined. I also found out that my favorite garden flowers- can you guess what?- were sold out across the board. But unfettered, I found a distributor of seeds through Amazon, and managed to order the precious seeds from the bowls of the Earth. Hopefully they'll be here before growing season is over. From another, reputed, company I got some container-friendly strawberries, Bells of Ireland, and Zinnias that are supposed to grow deep wine red and chartreuse.
   I loaded up the kiddos and trekked to the hardware store for the basics, which turned out to be MiracleGro soil, peat cups, and the kids' choice of seed- Shasta Daisies, Primroses, and Heirloom Green Beans. With some messy fingers and a few spills, we created a germination science experiment on the windowsill that my or may not determine if I'm totally off my rocker with this project.
   But wait! The craziness continues! After much review I selected the book I Garden: Urban Style about how to start and keep an urban garden (obviously) but with as relaxed an effort as possible. I read it in two days.
   Today I was tending to the Windowsill Experiment, anxious for something to show, to make it real, and it was too much. I couldn't start everything from seed; couldn't someone do some of the work for me? I wanted a baby plant! Thus entered Verdenand the Tomato. He's my beautiful new pet. And the others will be too, when they sprout, but for now I can tend to Verdenand and wait.

   He also holds a deeper significance- that of eating what we grow. When I decided to get a tomato plant, part of the incentive was cost; at $3 there wasn't much to lose. Then I went to the Harvest Coop and picked up some tomatoes for dinner tonight- you guessed it- $3 per pound. That gave me a fun idea to see just how much this gardening thing pays off. Every time we use tomatoes from Verdenand per day, I'll add $3 to a running total. At the end of the summer we'll see just how much money our little green friend has saved us.

Have you ever been possessed by a hobby demon? Do you like to garden? Do you have a container garden? What is your favorite flower or homegrown veggie? Is this totally bonkers?

Tune In Next Time for the Shocking Conclusion

  Much is happening and all of it is in the embryonic phase.

• I got a snazzy new hair cut and have a box of Blue Envy by Splat sitting on my counter, wondering what to do with its self. 
• I have another job interview this Thursday! This one's a good one!
• I blacked out this afternoon, and when I came to, I'd acquired a bag of potting soil, seedling pots, and several packets of seeds. There was also a confirmation email stating that several more packets of seeds were on the way. I think I've been possessed by something that thinks it can garden. 

But more on all that later. Good night.    

The Little Things (Like Sqinkies!)

    The weekends usually mean Deep Cleaning for us, and the last few weeks we’ve been doing our best to get the kids more involved in their share of the task. They have reached the age where they can take on more, and we’re trying to raise responsible citizens, sure, but it’s more than that. We’ve reached a breaking point. There seems to be a direct correlation between a child’s age, their most desired toy, and the torture it inflicts on said child’s parents.

    After a good playing session, it takes one parent a good 45-90 minutes to clean up just the Legos. That’s if they haven’t been mixed with the Squinkies, rock collection, crayons, and anything else the size of a nickel, but we’ll come back to that. The Legos have to be cleaned up immediately. Have you ever stepped on a Lego with your bare foot? The CIA should look into Legos for interrogations! And Squinkies! A Squinkie is an adorable little rubber character that comes in its own plastic bubble (think upgraded quarter machine toy), and they are collectable. That means that if a child is between 4 and 9 years old, they have to have Squinkies. They immediately discard the plastic bubble, ready for a barefoot parent to step on. The child will play with the Squinky for a while, get distracted, lose the Squinky, then throw a hurricane of a fit until the plastic-bubble-crippled parent turns the whole house over to find the lost Squinky.

    But the one that sends me over the Coo Coo’s nest is the Turn Over.  The Turn Over is when they take everything- the Legos, Squinkies, Hot Wheels, rock collection, Barbie and her accessories, every tiny toy you can imagine, and dump them out onto the floor. All of them. From neatly sorted boxes to one big mess. The Turn Over takes about 5 seconds. It takes roughly 2-3 hours to clean up.

    So Cal and Lala and learning about good old work ethic. Something they don’t tell you when you become parent is that life lessons like this don’t often come because of any growth milestone. They come because the parents have had enough. 

Pranayama-lama-ding-dong

   For sure, there’s been a lot of changes going on with us lately. Still, I don’t understand it, but I’ve been left NOT WANTING TO KNIT! Seriously- you couldn’t pay me to knit (I mean that literally- my mom tried to pay me to make a hat for her; I’m weeks behind). This has left me in an awful situation. For about six years I’ve spent my evenings knitting. Now, evening comes and my mind is racing with everything that is changing or that I can’t change or that won’t change quickly enough or is changing too quickly and I can’t settle down. I’ll be catatonic on the outside and hurricane on the inside.

   So tonight I had a well-duh-moment. I thought well, what other hobbies can you focus on? Writing- already done that, feein’ dry. Get off your butt and do some Yoga!  

   So I busted out the mat, and turned on a video from yogajournal.com. Fifteen minutes later I was sweating like a demon, my legs full of fire and alignment, and I was feeling better than I’ve felt in days. For all the physical exertion, there is an amazing amount of clarity, awareness, and calm that comes from doing yoga. I don’t know if it’s the focus, the blood flow, or what, but after a good workout I feel such peace. I feel more present in the moment. I’m more aware of my body, its needs, strengths, and I accept and care for myself more.  That’s a beautiful thing that society needs more of.  And just as a bonus, when I was all finished, I notice my body looked better; my tummy was flatter, supporting my back more.  Now who doesn’t like that?! 

   If you are interested in trying yoga, or giving it another go- which I highly recommend- here are a few tips I've learned to get the most out of it (and sometimes save a buck or two): 

• The best place to do a workout is on a yoga mat, but if you're not ready to invest money into your workout (which I think you should, because you'll be more likely to do it) do it bare foot on a carpet. When you're ready for a mat, this one is amazing. 
• Other things you'll need are a couple of books, like phone books (or yoga blocks) and a belt (or yoga strap). 
• Wear a fitted shirt or it will be in your face. 
• Assuming you can't get out to a class, start with a home routine for beginners so you are sure to learn the poses correctly and be less likely to hurt yourself. I think Patricia Walden's program knocks it out of the park. 
• Another great source of workouts is www.yogajournal.com/video/.  All free!
• Breath "through the back of your heart." Phrases like that might not make much sense, until you try them- then they change everything! But it takes focus and listening to minute parts of your body.
• Feel good about the good you are doing! 

   Namaste!

Guilty

GUILTY

So, yesterday I wrote this big ol' post about getting in shape and healthy vs the beauty cult, yadda yadda. It didn't make the cut.
The irony is that after I busted my butt (and abs and arms) doing Pilates yesterday...Today I'm eating a whole bag of potato chips. Jason said he'd take the kids and give me a break and, well, I couldn't help myself.
I do have clinical bipolar disorder (I don't know that I've mentioned that before) but I don't think I can blame this on it. Can I?

What's your guilty pleasure? Chocolate? French Fries? Hanson? My Little Pony: FIM?

P.S. OMG My Little Pony: FIM is on Netflix!

Little by Little, One Travels Far

"I am looking for someone to share in an adventure that I am arranging, and it's very difficult to find anyone." 

-Gandalf, The Hobbit

This has been a season of change, and a much needed one at that. We've been doing what we can to shake things up and get a new prospect on life. It's kind of amazing the things that it's leading to.

Have you ever tried to make new friends as an adult? Ever tried doing it without having school or a formal job? It's not easy. Jason observed the other day that we are in an awkward position too, because we're a little too punk-kid-like to relate much to the play-date parents, but a little to parental to relate much to the punk-kids around here. That's something they don't tell you about when you start a family young.
So the other night I decided to Google Cambridge/Boston writing groups and got a bunch of results from a website I was only briefly acquainted with- www.meetup.com. What a little gem this is! I type in a hand full of interests, and I'm given a list of respective groups and when they're meeting! By the end of the night I had joined three local groups and scheduled to meet the New Wave: Young Boston Feminists at the Wild & Scenic Film Festival!
We watched Taking Root: The Vision of Wangari Maathai. It was inspiring and fascinating. To think, so much could be done in one country, starting with simply planting trees! One of my favorite scenes was of current military officers planting trees around their compounds. I think that army leaders around he world could take a lesson from that.
I met a great couple of women, one of whom, Daryl, I was delighted to find several commonalities with. I also learned that she writes for Empower Dalit Women of Nepal , which happens to need more copywriter help right now! I'm meeting with the president of the organization this Wednesday.
For the next New Wave meeting I'm going to, we're discussing the book Full Frontal Feminism: A Young Woman's Guide to Why Feminism Matters.

I guess the moral of the story is that the momentum from making one thing happen is bound to start other things happening too!

Spinning the Hamster Wheel

•  Today I've been dealing with an existential crisis. The part of my life that takes up about 70% of the time, really should be more like 20%. Or rather, if I wanted to be a full time housekeeper, I'd have a salary and benefits. 
• I've been trying to learn to knit socks two-at-a-time and this is what I've been coming up with. Everyone at my knitting group has said it'd be soooo easy, that I'd never go back, yadda yadda. I think it's more like trying to write with your feet from the Wild Thing yoga position.
• Nothing much has been happening, and when that's the case, I don't come up with much to write about. 
• When I can't write, I try to design something. So with spring in mind, I'm trying to come up with something for this yarn. 

I don't have a knitting pro- Oh! Yarn!

I have a serious problem. It started out as a severe case of boredom. I sought to rectify the boredom, through which it morphed into intense Knitting-Attention-Deficiency.

First I started knitting Hedera, and immediately screwed up the cuff, but kept going long enough to get bored and decide that they would be ankle socks. Then I got bored enough to decide that the lace would stop at the ankle. By the time I was finished, I couldn't bring myself to do the second sock.

At the sign of Second Sock Syndrome I pulled out another ball of yarn, wound it into two, and made my first attempt at knitting two-at-a-time with two circular needles. That proved to be more trouble than it was worth. I abandon the cause in favor of nice, big, 3mm needles and a 50 stitch cast-on. I tell you, that sock was flying off my needles!


Just when I thought speed had cured my condition, this fell into my lap...

Isn't it so pretty!?!?!

See? Serious problem. Maybe if I'm lucky,  this last yarn (Batgirl BFL Sock Yarn by KnittinK) will hold my attention long enough to become two socks. 

It Finally Came!

Happy Valentine's TO me....

Happy Valentine's TO me...

Happy VALENTINE'S dear Heather Lou...

Happy Valentine's TO ME...

Miss Peregrin's Book Review

I just finished reading Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children by Ransom Riggs. (Isn't that a great name?) If you haven't read it yet, you should. I can't think of a thing to say about it that wouldn't be complimentary. Ransom Riggs doesn't waste a single word. It's absolutely magical how clear the imagery comes across, without loss of any love for the language! The story and the design of the book work so well together; they create an experience that is spine-tingling and and intense without being gruesome. It sucks you in so well! I was reading as fast as I could, not only to find out what happens next, but to see what the next picture would be! Concerning the characters, I started to get worried that too many would be introduced, but was pleased to find that each has an important role to fill with each complex personality. I also have to say that this book has possibly the most believable adolescent love story I think I've ever read- my toes were curling! So pick it up. Whatever it is you normally read, pick this book up and devour it!