Monday, January 21, 2019

On the Night of the Super Wolf Blood Moon Eclipse

Around 6 -- the temperature is in the teens . . .

and there are lots of clouds . . .

I wonder how this image happened?

There's a full eclipse coming and the moon is supposed to look blood red at totality -- but will there will be clouds -- or will I will be awake and feel like going outside around midnight?

Hmmmm . . . I kinda doubt it.

I surprised myself. John woke me at 11:30 and I got a few shots of the beginning stages.
The moon was almost directly overhead and I was in my nightshirt and a jacket, leaning against a snowy railing and trying to steady the camera.. I got these two shots and  went back to bed  for about twenty minutes. When I went back out, I got one fleeting glimpse (but no picture) of the rather tarnished looking moon before the clouds swallowed her up.


Sunday, January 20, 2019

Fading Beauty . . .

For almost a month the amaryllis have bloomed and bloomed -- thirteen blossoms on three stems -- and now they are fading.

Delicate petal edges crumple inward and colors grow more nuanced.

Another few days and I'll move the bulbs into the bed in the greenhouse in hopes of an eventual glorious resurrection.

Along with the pleasure their beauty has given us, has been the delight of hearing Josie say Ama-RILL-us!

Friday, January 18, 2019

Mary Oliver -- Rest in Peace

She has left us so much . . .

Last Night the Rain Spoke to Me

by Mary Oliver

Mary Oliver
Last night
the rain
spoke to me
slowly, saying,
what joy
to come falling
out of the brisk cloud,
to be happy again
in a new way
on the earth!
That’s what it said
as it dropped,
smelling of iron,
and vanished
like a dream of the ocean
into the branches
and the grass below.
Then it was over.
The sky cleared.
I was standing
under a tree.
The tree was a tree
with happy leaves,
and I was myself,
and there were stars in the sky
that were also themselves
at the moment
at which moment
my right hand
was holding my left hand
which was holding the tree
which was filled with stars
and the soft rain –
imagine! imagine!
the long and wondrous journeys
still to be ours.

Wednesday, January 16, 2019

The Miniaturist

The premise is fascinating -- a young woman married to a wealthy man she hardy knows, a man who will not consummate the marriage, who shrinks from her touch. A house of secrets, ruled over by the man's sister, outwardly ascetic but given to fur linings in her somber garments. As Nella tries to find her way in a puzzling household and in the rich but unforgiving world of 17th Century Amsterdam, the gift of a cabinet for miniatures and the filling thereof catapults the story into mystery. Who is making these exquisite miniatures that are tiny replicas of the troubled household -- that seem to either foretell or direct the future?

Much is left unanswered -- I found myself wondering if there might be a sequel. But perhaps the unsolved mystery is the point. Perhaps the miniaturist is God. 

No matter. The beauty of the prose and the lushness of description is reason enough to read this extraordinary book.

I'm told there is a television version . . .

Monday, January 14, 2019

Proofreading Again

Proud of myself. First I managed to get the header and the page numbers on my manuscript. (It should be easy but I have to relearn this step every time.)

In glancing through the pages, I discovered several lines of little square dots that will NOT disappear with a simple delete.  (Something that Word does occasionally for its own inscrutable reasons.) I've had this problem before and always left it to someone (copy editor) else to fix. As there is no someone else at this point, I asked Mr. Google what to do and quickly discovered a fix. 

Feeling tech savvy.

Then, wanting to make sure my chapter headings were where they should be and that there weren't any more of those lines of dots, I began skimming through the ms.. Though I've already proofread it numerous times, I'm finding lots of little things to change.

And I'm enjoying the story and the characters yet again -- I still think it's a good book. But then I would, wouldn't I? It's written by someone who understands just what I like.

(I was startled to find that I had a minor character named Josie -- this was written long before our Josie was even the proverbial twinkle in her father's eye -- and that book Josie was a little girl who contracts scarlet fever. Yikes! I couldn't remember at first if she got well -- and was prepared to change her name if necessary. But she did get well so she'll remain Josie.)

It'll be a day or so before I'm done and ready to submit it.


Sunday, January 13, 2019

Here We Go

The game's afoot -- again. I've written my query letter and marketing plan to begin submitting to small presses. I hope to send them off some time today to the first -- and possibly another on my list.

We'll see how it goes . . . don't expect any quick results, but know that I'm working on it.  Once I've done a number of queries, I'll get onto the Birdie stories for self publishing as a collection -- I hope before summer.

Saturday, January 12, 2019


I think these would be terrific tiles . . .

They make me think of William Morris . . .

And I keep looking for figures in all those squiggles.

But it's just a slice of red cabbage . . .

And me playing with color filters.