NaNoWriMo is here! I must hoard all my free time for writing. That means I have to temporarily give up playing Spide . . . No, I must not even name it or then I will have to play it. Let’s say instead “the game that must not be named.”
I will not play the game that must not be named!
Apples usually keep a long time, so I was surprised when I pulled some recently-purchased Cortlands out of the fridge and found that they were all soft. Some of them were definitely bad and I threw those away, but the others seemed OK. Once upon a time I probably would have just thrown the whole lot away, but ever since watching the “1940s House,” I have a hard time tossing produce if I think it may still be usable. I didn’t have enough apples left for my chosen recipe, but apple crisp isn’t exactly rocket science, so I just guesstimated the quantities for the other ingredients.
I’m glad I decided to go ahead with baking. The aroma of cooking apples filled the kitchen. Baking with apples is a time-honored way of celebrating the season, and it made me feel like autumn had finally arrived. The crisp was yummy as a dessert last night and even better as a topping for my oatmeal this morning. It reminded me a little bit of the instant oatmeal that my mom used to feed me when I was a kid. You know, the pouches of powdery oatmeal and dried apples that you dump in a bowl with some hot water. Now I understand what that product was trying to imitate, and boy, did it miss its mark! Real oatmeal topped with real apple crisp is worth the extra cooking time.
November starts tomorrow, and with November comes NaNoWriMo.
I haven’t come up with a plot for my novel yet. I thought I might as well take the “leap of faith” thing all the way. I’ll be starting at an additional disadvantage. I have to drive to and from CT tomorrow, meaning that I might not get any writing done on the first day, and I won’t be able to attend the first writing get-together. Last year, meeting up with the other writers helped me to get started. I’m on my own this time.
Wish me luck.
Halloween may not be my favorite holiday, but I can’t help getting nostalgic about it. As a kid, I looked forward to the day with an excitement that I can only vaguely recall now. I had a limited budget, so I chose my costumes with care, though as you’ll soon see, I did not always choose wisely!
My Most Notable Halloween Costumes
What were your most notable costumes?
It was two weeks ago today that we went to CT to see Tori Amos in concert. We had good tickets (tenth row center) and we got there early enough to catch the opening act.
The opening act was a strange guitar-playing guy named Yoav. He used his guitar, voice, and some sort of loop-playing recording device to make sound effects and beats for his songs. It might have gotten tiresome if he had played more than just that tiny set, but I loved the experimental nature of his music. His lyrics had some tacky bits of cliche stuck to them, and he wailed a little too much, but I say the kid has something. Just give him some time to refine his act.
I thought Tori had an up-and-down performance. There were several nondescript songs in the set list; I couldn’t even tell you which albums they were from. And I have never heard a more lackluster version of “Hey Jupiter.” But when she played her classics “Mother” and “Cornflake Girl,” and a cover of “Let It Be,” she was inspirational.
I’ve only seen Tori in concert twice. The first time she was amazing, and this time she was pretty good, so I can’t complain and I’ll pay to see her the next time around.
Computers are good at games. If a computer is given all the rules and programmed to follow them consistently, then it cannot make a mistake. It will therefore play better than I, and faster. I don’t mind. I rely heavily on the computer’s accuracy and speed every day. I let it do the grunt work while I take care of the creative tasks. I have come to expect perfection from computers, even to depend upon it, so I get mad when computers make mistakes.
I got mad today. During a game of spider solitaire, the program informed me that I had lost and that there were no more legal moves. I knew there were more plays, so I closed the message window and continued playing. I went on to win that game, proving that the program was wrong.
It turns out to be a very stupid and lazy program. It only looks at surface cards, so it misses a lot of plays. But it’s not really the computer’s fault, is it? After all, it’s only as smart as its programmer. So I wag the Dumb Toe of Ugliness at you, Game Programmer!
This post is dedicated to fat ladies everywhere. Nothing is ever well and truly over until one of you sings.
I am grateful for hot water.
This place is going to be freezing cold during the winter. I got a taste of it last February, and I didn’t like it one bit. But we seem to have an abundant supply of hot water, so I will relish my daily hot shower.
Krondor, the Betrayal by Raymond E. Feist
Grade: D+
In Krondor, the Betrayal, Feist returns to the world he introduced in the Riftwar Saga. Reading the afterword, I discovered that the story for this book was based on a video game, and thank goodness for that, because otherwise I might never have forgiven the author for this awful addition to the series. The characters were flat and spent way too much time plodding from one location to another. I’m glad that Feist decided to show another side to the moredhel, a race of beings he had previously described as evil, but I never learned to like the representative character.
My opinion of the book plummeted as the author explained that magic was possible because of a substance called mana. Some of the characters found mana on the ground here and there. It looked like a golden plant. And then they started picking it up with their magical staves as they passed by. Ugh! Mana is for video games, not novels!
I’m in the middle of reading the sequel (Krondor, the Assassins), which is tolerable so far, but unless it turns out to be one heck of a read, both books are headed for the Chopping Block.
It’s time to catch you up on my reading.
Crouching Buzzard, Leaping Loon: A Meg Langslow Mystery by Donna Andrews
Grade: B
I was drawn to this author by her cute titles, many of which feature birds, and I bought this particular book because the price was right ($3.99 new!). Did I get my money’s worth? Absolutely.
Amateur sleuth Meg Langslow is helping out at her brother’s software company, where they’re working on the follow-up to an enormously popular video game. As temporary office manager, Meg has to deal with such difficulties as the company mascot (a stinky buzzard that they keep in the waiting room), a rabid fan who repeatedly tries to sneak in, and the wacky staff of computer geeks employed by her brother. When the automated mail cart rolls into the reception area laden with a dead body, the police pick her brother as their #1 suspect, and Meg starts her own investigation to clear his name.
This book had to work extra hard to impress me. I’m not a big fan of mysteries and I generally dislike books written in the first person. It turned out to be the right kind of mystery for me, light and fluffy and free of gore, and though I initially found the narrator’s tone to be grating, she grew on me. Overall Crouching Buzzard, Leaping Loon is a fun read, perfect for a day at the beach. The excerpt of the next book in the series, Owl’s Well That Ends Well, sounds interesting and I may well pick it up the next time I need some light reading.
Images from an afternoon walk—
Sections of the canal covered with floating autumn leaves. Zigzagging trails of clear water marking the passage of ducks. A capped jug bobbing cheerfully in the river. What’s in the jug? Moonshine, maybe. Or maple syrup. Don’t you want to know? Butter-and-eggs, still fresh and yellow, growing along the sides of the path, a sign that summer has yet to leave town.
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