#247: Sarcastic Christmas Letter
The Year of Internal Parasites
Alternative title: Hey kids! Travel is ever so fun!
January
Went to China (cold) and Indonesia (hot). Walked the Great Wall of China in the snow, and accidentally trapped CJ in a windowless Indonesian toilet. Oh, and we got horribly ill – also in Indonesia.
February
Still sick, especially in the morning. Lost two kilos through sheer force of will. Took three pregnancy tests (all negative). Found out about a pregnancy – not mine, silly – my sister. But hey, *I* have a cat.
March
Told I had giardia. Decided it was totally just as cool as bringing a new (human) life into the world. Took medicine. Got worse. Stopped taking medicine. Annoyed at constant pointless nausea, I decided to “earn” the nausea with chocolate. Gained six kilos.
This pic is from wikipedia.
April
Blog of Daily Awesomeness got off the ground. Discovered I’m now allergic to fruit. Thanks, Indonesia! Less nauseous now, so faced the pain and lost three kilos.
May
Bought fish. Fish died due to parasites (theirs, not mine). Bought more fish. Fish didn’t die. Yay! Also, lost one kilo.
This pic is from wikipedia.
June
Went to Sydney for CJ’s cousin’s wedding. Disappointed no-one fell in the water. Otherwise good. Met a married couple related to us called Barry and Sharon (which, translated into Australian, is Bazza and Shazza). Gained and lost two kilos.
July
Went to Sydney for a writer’s conference. Chatted to Publishers B, D, and H. Realised contacts in the biz are the key to publication. Was asked if I was pregnant. Also went down the coast with family including my sister, who at six months didn’t look as pregnant as I did. My nephew ran away (can’t imagine why), but we knew another was on the way, so were not concerned. Lost one more freaking kilo, and reached the healthy weight range! Ta da!
August
CJ was promoted at work. I spent all the extra money on writing conferences.
Went to Sydney for my grandpa’s 90th. Went to Melbourne for massive writing festival. Connected with Publishers A, C, D, I and K. Discovered getting up at 3am to fly interstate doesn’t increase my publisher-schmoozing skills. Or healthy-eating skills.
September
Went to Brisbane for writing festival. Connected with Publishers D and J. Specifically, I woke up in Melbourne at 3am and showered, then went to Brisbane, Sydney and Canberra before my next shower (the cats found me utterly fascinating). Gained ten kilos from all the writing conferences. Another person asked if I was pregnant. Nope – just fat, nauseous, and irritable.
October
Publisher B let me know my books were “progressing”. After 18 months, this was thrilling news. My sister had her internal parasite removed (aww). Mine stayed (ohh).
November
Finished up six weeks without chocolate. Lost seven kilos, and the will to live. But we’ll always have the (accidental) diet coke and mentos rocket.
December
Gained three kilos. Lost six by inventing the anti-Christmas diet (hint: it doesn’t involve overeating). Was still asked if I was pregnant – immediately after losing seven freaking kilos. Still got no answer from Publisher B.
On the up side, my whole family plus the newest member ate Christmas dinner together for the first time.
Merry Freaking Christmas. Good to know that I didn’t get any less published than last year, and that I lost a total of (wait for it) three kilos in twelve months.
But I did scrape back into the healthy weight range for the finish; CJ and I still like each other (and contraceptives, thanks very much for asking); and I met eight major players of Australian publishing face to face.
Here’s to next year. May it be awesome.
“Meg the Egg” story so far
Yep, all comments this week will magically turn into donations to Heifer International.
4
Mum walked in on Hugh and I kissing. “Sex ed clearly isn’t enough,” she said, and gave each of us an egg with a drawn-on face to look after.
She said it was the latest technology, and it would teach us about parenthood. Hugh freaked out and went home. My egg began to cry.
Mum made me walk up and down with the egg cupped in my hand until it finally shut up. I named it Meg, and decided never to have kids.
5
Stupid Meg is stupid crying and it won’t shut up. From now on, I’m only kissing Hugh if we’re both wrapped in cling wrap. Just in case.
Hugh tweeted that he didn’t want kids. Perfect. I wonder if sixteen is too young for him to get a vasectomy.
Discussed vasectomy with Hugh. He says he’ll do it if my Mum takes the eggs back. Definitely worth it. Meg makes my hands itch.
6
Miss Bobbit asked us what we were holding under our desks, and when we explained she had a coughing fit and left the room. NOT FUNNY.
Meg is oddly compelling. I feel funny without her neat warmth in my hand. Her little marker-drawn face looks like it’s smiling.
7
My BFF Sasha said that if I have to face parenthood my Mum should let Hugh stay with me so we can experience the pitfalls of married life.
When I asked Mum why she disagreed with Sasha she sent me to my room. Meg was making little gurgling noises. Pretty cute for a robot.
8
Meg was doing so well, and then at 3am she spat out some kind of green goo. Mum sucks! I never woke HER at 3am when I was a baby.
Fell asleep and missed drama class. Why couldn’t I fall asleep in maths? What’s wrong with me? I LIKE drama. Uh-oh, Meg needs a walk again.
9
Hugh pulled me over at lunch to show me something cool. He threw his egg (Sven) up in the air. It made a squealing noise like it was happy.
I wasn’t sure I dared throw Meg anywhere, even if it helped develop her motor skills in later life. Hugh grabbed her and chucked.
Meg flipped over and – yes, she was laughing! Hugh stepped forward to catch her and slipped. I dived facedown and JUST got her. Never again!
10
Rough night. When I woke up, both my hands were dark purple with bruising. Hugh came over and his hands were the same – especially the left.
“It’s Sven,” he said, “because I hold him in my left hand so my right is free for the remote.” “Should infants be watching TV?”
“Not the point,” said Hugh. I said, “Fine. We’re – allergic, or something. Should we tell Mum?” “What if she makes us give them up?”
11
I walked into Mum’s room without thinking, and saw her getting dressed. Her skin was green and slimy, and she pulled on a human skin suit.
She turned slowly and looked at me with two bulbous eyes on stalks: “We need to talk.” I stood frozen: “You’re not Mum.” “No.”
The alien explained that my real Mum was in Barbados and would be back for Christmas: “Call me Xarla.” “Oh. . . sure. Er. Nice name.”
12
Hugh and Xarla and I sat down with the eggs. “We need human blood to feel our children,” she explained – “so, sorry about your hands.”
“Why don’t I remember Mum saying she was going away?” I asked. Xarla said, “Short-term memory wipe. Give it another day or two.”
I called Mum in Barbados. “Are you doing your homework?” she trilled. I said, “Um. Yes. So you’re fine?” “Time of my life!” “Okay then.”
13
Meg was crying again, so I walked around with her in my hand for over an hour. Now I knew she was doing it, I could feel tiny pinpricks.
I called Hugh. “Is Xarla implanting me with something? Because I’m finding it cute how Meg drinks my blood.” Hugh was silent a long time.
“No,” he said at last: “They’re not altering us to like the eggs. Humans are biologically programmed to like small messy helpless things.”
14
Hugh and I sat close together at the back of English and discussed whether or not we were aiding an alien invasion of Earth.
I decided, “I don’t THINK we’re betraying the human race. I think we’re just. . . babysitting.” Hugh nodded.
“If the aliens do take over, do you think they’ll abolish school?” said Hugh. I said, “Another excellent point.”
15
For the sake of the children, Hugh and I skipped maths. I know I’D wipe out humanity if that was what I saw of it.
16
Hugh and I had dinner with Xarla – she cooked a great lasagna. I said, “Er. . . would you mind putting your human skin suit back on?”
“No problem,” said Xarla. Hugh whispered, “Adults are sooo gross.” “I know.”
17
We took the eggs to a Lady Gaga concert. They moved around a lot, but I couldn’t tell if they were dancing or trying to escape.
18
Woke up to dead silence. Why isn’t Meg crying? I can’t tell if she’s sleeping peacefully or if someone snuck in and hard-boiled her.
It’s fine! Meg was just sick. Still is, a bit. Anyone know a good anti-ichor soap? Parenthood is so gross.
19
Hugh’s Dad asked us what our plans were for Christmas Day. I said, “Xarla said we should both stick around for. . . celebrations.”
Hugh rallied desperately: “Why don’t you and Mum come?” I cut in, “Um. . . I have two Mums.” Hugh’s Dad said, “We’ll be there.”
I glared at Hugh. His Dad said, “Don’t worry kids. We’re VERY tolerant.” I said, “Oh. . . good. See you on Christmas then.”
20
http://pubrants.blogspot.com/2010/12/year-in-statistics-2010.html
Hugh’s call woke me, and Meg began to cry. “What?” I mumbled. Hugh said, “It’s Sven! I dropped him! Quick, tell me what to do! Is he okay?”
21
Xarla and Hugh and I stayed up all night in case Sven woke up. “It’s touch and go,” she said. Hugh’s face was grey: “What have I done?”
I called Mum. “How did you cope when I was sick as a baby?” “I didn’t – not until you were well again. Love you, see you on Christmas Eve.”
22
The phone rang again. It was Hugh. My heart pounded. One way or another, this was the call that would tell me Sven’s fate.
Hugh was crying. “He’s all right! Just now he woke up hungry, screaming for blood as if nothing happened.” “Oh, thank goodness.”
23
Cops came to our door and invited themselves in. We hid the eggs in a rack of others in the fridge, and held our breath as they searched us.
One cop took Xarla aside. “We know you’re a good, upstanding citizen. If you see anything suspicious, you’ll let us know?” “Oh, of course.”
24
Mum swept in with a new pair of pink cowboy boots, plus intense sunburn to 75% of her body. “Hey kid, what’s been –” She stopped dead.
I said, “Mum, this is Xarla. She’s been cooking and. . . stuff. And she gave us her eggs to babysit. And feed. Until they hatch. Tomorrow.”
Mum carefully examined Xarla’s green skin and human suit. “Well, it’s certainly true that sex ed these days isn’t enough. Nice to meet you.”
#249: Re-gift
One of my close friends gave me a really excellent book for Christmas – something which was very touching, since he originally planned to give me lollies (and yep, I’m dieting – it’s the only way to achieve the healthy weight range this year, which I’ve been fighting to reach all year despite sickness and stupid amounts of travel).
It so happens that CJ and I already own the book. My friend knows our habits so well that he not only picked one of the best YA fantasy books ever written, but also immediately asked, “Do you already have it?”
He’s a close enough friend that I answered in the affirmative – but he also knows me well enough to know that having one less Christmas present on my list is extremely helpful right now.
So thank you, Friend Who Gave Me A Book I Already Had, and thank you, Friend Who Will Be Getting That Book For Christmas. I’m grateful to both of you.
Have you ever regifted something? Ever had it go horribly wrong? Do tell!
Tomorrow: This year’s sarcastic Christmas letter – back by popular demand, and this time it has pictures (plus I’ll re-insert my favourite video of 2010).
Keep those Heifer comments coming – every comment (no matter how random) gives them a dollar.
More goats!
S#57: Secret Squirrel
Today’s mission was to visit a secret hiding spot – somewhere high up.
I chose a Chinese Elm tree at my parents’ house. Back in the day, I used to be able to climb this tree to get onto their roof, then slide down a branch Legolas-on-the-Oliphaunt’s-trunk style to get down. The access branch has long since been “retired” but the tree is still flourishing.
So here it is: today’s awesomeness (suggested by steffmetal.com).
Step 1: The manly hoick into the branches (yep, I was wearing an ankle-length dress. The last three times I visited I wore pants, but it was always either raining, blowing a gale, or both).
2. The first, “Hmm, maybe this isn’t such a good idea” moment.
3. The triumphant smirk as I reached my destination.
4. The casual glance back at the envious mini-people below.
5. The distressing realisation that I’m now stuck.
6. And finally, the descent.
I walked inside happy, brushing twigs and leaves from the outside of my dress, and wriggling to dislodge those trapped and digging into my skin.
No fatalities = awesome.
By the way, YES – comments on this entry get magically crunched into money for the charity Heifer International. Ditto for any comments this week. And yes, it’s a cunning ploy to draw out all you silent readers who visit several times a week without saying a word. Don’t worry; I won’t bite.*
PS A few days ago I promised to post the recipe of the best Christmas Pudding I ever tasted. It’s now up at http://shootingthrough.net/2010/12/19/245-food-on-fire/
*unlike a goat. Goats will not be sent to your home address, I promise.**
**Unless your home address is a poor village selected as a lucky goat recipient. If that’s the case, I can’t help you – except of course with the aforementioned goat.
#248: Heifer, anyone?
For today’s awesomeness, I joined literary-stuff blogger http://blog.nathanbransford.com/ who is pledging $1 for every comment on his blog, giving it to the charity http://www.heifer.org/. Any charity that gives people a goat* is one I like.
I’ll be giving $1 for every blog comment from this instant until Christmas Eve (up to $500, to be paid in January, when CJ and I are back to buying groceries and such again).
And I haven’t forgotten I promised to review Scott Westerfeld’s “Leviathan” and “Behemoth” YA steampunk books, either.
On Christmas Eve, I’ll be posting my sarcastic Christmas letter – with pictures this time.
And I fully intend to climb a tree this week, for “Secret Squirrel”. Wish me luck. . .
*or a cow. Or a camel. etc
Megalist of Awesome
It’s way past time for another Megalist of Awesomeness. I marked some that I thought were especially good (for a variety of reasons). Don’t forget you’re all MOST welcome to make suggestions (I’ve never said no).
Why not pick one from this list to do yourself? Come back and tell the rest of us how it went, for better or worse. . .
http://shootingthrough.net/2010/07/15/three-ingredient-thursday-breakfast-fry-up/
http://shootingthrough.net/2010/07/16/120-wedding-photos/
http://shootingthrough.net/2010/07/17/s5-poetry/
http://shootingthrough.net/2010/07/19/78-new-job/
http://shootingthrough.net/2010/07/20/s51-guilty-pleasure/
http://shootingthrough.net/2010/07/21/three-ingredient-thursday-strawberry-and-banana-milkshake/
http://shootingthrough.net/2010/07/22/s85-random-club/
http://shootingthrough.net/2010/07/23/171-explore-the-attic/
http://shootingthrough.net/2010/07/24/119-eat-fish-and-chips-at-the-beach/
http://shootingthrough.net/2010/07/25/172-family-holiday/
* http://shootingthrough.net/2010/07/26/172-macabre-expression-of-love/
http://shootingthrough.net/2010/07/27/day-at-the-beach/
http://shootingthrough.net/2010/07/28/5-visit-a-lighthouse/
http://shootingthrough.net/2010/07/29/three-ingredient-thursday-the-funny-scotsman/
* http://shootingthrough.net/2010/07/30/174-visit-a-waterfall/
http://shootingthrough.net/2010/07/31/s17-midnight-snackage/
* http://shootingthrough.net/2010/08/01/173-love-and-pirates/
http://shootingthrough.net/2010/08/02/175-was-it-really-that-bad/
http://shootingthrough.net/2010/08/03/s52-have-some-delicious-delivered-to-your-house/
http://shootingthrough.net/2010/08/04/three-ingredient-thursday-christmas-salad/
http://shootingthrough.net/2010/08/05/140-antique-shop-in-a-small-town/
http://shootingthrough.net/2010/08/06/176-eat-cookie-dough/
http://shootingthrough.net/2010/08/07/s31-join-the-library/
http://shootingthrough.net/2010/08/08/177-the-piper/
http://shootingthrough.net/2010/08/09/s67-make-someones-day/
http://shootingthrough.net/2010/08/10/97-cancel-fu/
http://shootingthrough.net/2010/08/11/178-kick-your-life-goal-in-the-eye/
* http://shootingthrough.net/2010/08/12/three-ingredient-thursday-the-dark-dinosaur/
http://shootingthrough.net/2010/08/13/179-play-with-a-pirate-ship/
http://shootingthrough.net/2010/08/13/35-recreate-your-food-lust/
http://shootingthrough.net/2010/08/15/s54-clothing-attack/
* http://shootingthrough.net/2010/08/16/180-become-an-expert-on-something-you-know-nothing-about/
* http://shootingthrough.net/2010/08/17/137-invent-your-own-alphabet-and-write-something-in-it/
http://shootingthrough.net/2010/08/18/182-go-to-a-90th-birthday/
http://shootingthrough.net/2010/08/19/three-ingredient-thursday-is-cursed/
http://shootingthrough.net/2010/08/20/184-all-day-in-a-wired-cafe/
http://shootingthrough.net/2010/08/21/184-vote/
http://shootingthrough.net/2010/08/22/185-experiment-on-a-cat/
* http://shootingthrough.net/2010/08/23/187-whats-in-the-box-part-1/
* http://shootingthrough.net/2010/08/24/186-whats-in-the-box-part-2-the-father-in-law/
http://shootingthrough.net/2010/08/25/188-edumacation/
http://shootingthrough.net/2010/08/26/three-ingredient-thursday-lunch/
http://shootingthrough.net/2010/08/27/191-pick-a-top-five/
* http://shootingthrough.net/2010/08/28/192-see-the-sun-rise-and-the-latest-schmoozefest/
http://shootingthrough.net/2010/08/29/193-pat-a-lizard/
http://shootingthrough.net/2010/08/30/183-rainbow-yay/
http://shootingthrough.net/2010/08/31/194-flee/
http://shootingthrough.net/2010/09/01/s96-celebrate-random-holidays/
http://shootingthrough.net/2010/09/03/190-lolly-review/
http://shootingthrough.net/2010/09/03/195-packed-full-of-awesome/
http://shootingthrough.net/2010/09/04/s97-let-go-of-people/
http://shootingthrough.net/2010/09/05/196-shed-blood-sweat-and-tears-in-one-day/
* http://shootingthrough.net/2010/09/06/197-the-pitch/
http://shootingthrough.net/2010/09/07/198-endure-until-awesome/
* http://shootingthrough.net/2010/09/08/199-stay-in-a-backpacker/
http://shootingthrough.net/2010/09/09/s30-read-outside-and-jewellery-selling/
http://shootingthrough.net/2010/09/12/s33-haiku/
http://shootingthrough.net/2010/09/13/75-leave-lightsheater-on/
http://shootingthrough.net/2010/09/14/s40-and-82-silly-hats-for-the-deaf/
* http://shootingthrough.net/2010/09/15/40-steal-flowers/
http://shootingthrough.net/2010/09/16/200-documentary/
http://shootingthrough.net/2010/09/17/s34-krieg-up-your-wallet/
* http://shootingthrough.net/2010/09/18/s91-signature-cocktail/
* http://shootingthrough.net/2010/09/19/201-see-a-friends-ten-day-old/
http://shootingthrough.net/2010/09/20/103-hug-the-internet/
* http://shootingthrough.net/2010/09/20/how-much-do-you-love-the-internet/
http://shootingthrough.net/2010/09/21/s101-talk-to-steff/
http://shootingthrough.net/2010/09/22/s42-exercise/
http://shootingthrough.net/2010/09/23/s100-hug-someone/
http://shootingthrough.net/2010/09/24/50-no-plans/
http://shootingthrough.net/2010/09/25/s61-make-up-call/
http://shootingthrough.net/2010/09/26/202-secret-date/
http://shootingthrough.net/2010/09/27/s55-make-music/
http://shootingthrough.net/2010/09/28/203-midnight-rescue/
http://shootingthrough.net/2010/09/29/135-bad-movie-night/
http://shootingthrough.net/2010/09/30/204-sculpture-garden/
http://shootingthrough.net/2010/10/01/steampunk-earth-day-launch/
http://shootingthrough.net/2010/10/01/s44-no-one-at-home-and-steampunk-outfits/
http://shootingthrough.net/2010/10/03/writing-steampunk/
http://shootingthrough.net/2010/10/04/205-be-immature/
http://shootingthrough.net/2010/10/05/207-supermarket-treasure-hunt/
http://shootingthrough.net/2010/10/06/s62-find-a-totem/
* http://shootingthrough.net/2010/10/07/a-steampunk-romance-and-windchimes/
* http://shootingthrough.net/2010/10/08/116-visit-sundry-relations-and-further-steampunk-tales/
* http://shootingthrough.net/2010/10/09/further-steampunk-data-a-bit-creepy-fyi/
http://shootingthrough.net/2010/10/10/s60-rise-and-shine/
http://shootingthrough.net/2010/10/11/208-fish-doctor/
http://shootingthrough.net/2010/10/13/210-come-home/
http://shootingthrough.net/2010/10/14/211-be-a-labour-buddy/
* http://shootingthrough.net/2010/10/15/212-visit-hospital/
http://shootingthrough.net/2010/10/16/213-shopping-spree/
http://shootingthrough.net/2010/10/17/writing-tips-for-when-the-book-is-written/
http://shootingthrough.net/2010/10/18/215-ritual/
http://shootingthrough.net/2010/10/19/214-spontaneous-soccer-steampunk-tips/
http://shootingthrough.net/2010/10/20/216-diy-therapy/
http://shootingthrough.net/2010/10/21/217-le-smackdown/
http://shootingthrough.net/2010/10/22/s12-healing-stones-and-setting/
http://shootingthrough.net/2010/10/23/s22-ancient-foibles/
* http://shootingthrough.net/2010/10/24/218-rich/
http://shootingthrough.net/2010/10/25/219-steampunk-21st-party/
* http://shootingthrough.net/2010/10/26/220-recognised-by-a-stranger/
* http://shootingthrough.net/2010/10/27/s17-bubbles/
* http://shootingthrough.net/2010/10/28/how-to-talk-english-like-more-gooder/
* http://shootingthrough.net/2010/10/29/220-wear-12000-worth-of-jewellery/
* http://shootingthrough.net/2010/10/31/221-diet-coke-and-mentos-rocket-pg-for-naughty-language/
http://shootingthrough.net/2010/11/01/46-stilts/
http://shootingthrough.net/2010/11/02/s87-sleepy-time/
http://shootingthrough.net/2010/11/03/s3-send-cards/
http://shootingthrough.net/2010/11/04/s21-hydration/
http://shootingthrough.net/2010/11/05/s26-swing-low-sweet-chariot/
http://shootingthrough.net/2010/11/06/221-dream-big/
http://shootingthrough.net/2010/11/07/222-kidnap-your-date/
http://shootingthrough.net/2010/11/08/146-barefoot-for-a-whole-day/
http://shootingthrough.net/2010/11/09/s43-archery/
http://shootingthrough.net/2010/11/10/s88-facebook-friends/
http://shootingthrough.net/2010/11/11/s25-watchword/
* http://shootingthrough.net/2010/11/11/s49-get-mentioned-on-tv/
http://shootingthrough.net/2010/11/12/s1-pyjama-party/
http://shootingthrough.net/2010/11/13/224-visit-a-display-home/
http://shootingthrough.net/2010/11/14/35-cook-with-butter/
http://shootingthrough.net/2010/11/15/231-cut-your-own-hair-in-a-fit-of-rage/
http://shootingthrough.net/2010/11/16/225-spring-clean/
* http://shootingthrough.net/2010/11/17/s15-fly-a-kite/
http://shootingthrough.net/2010/11/18/3226-the-perfect-avocado-and-hooning/
http://shootingthrough.net/2010/11/19/71-learn-to-spell-unneccessary/
http://shootingthrough.net/2010/11/20/227-the-lying-down-game/
http://shootingthrough.net/2010/11/21/228-message-in-a-bottle/
http://shootingthrough.net/2010/11/22/win-a-prize/
http://shootingthrough.net/2010/11/23/s10-the-royal-bedchamber/
http://shootingthrough.net/2010/11/24/230-tinfoil-hat/
http://shootingthrough.net/2010/11/25/s9-laugh/
http://shootingthrough.net/2010/11/26/250-dress-up-for-a-date/
http://shootingthrough.net/2010/11/27/231-place-an-ad-or-three/
http://shootingthrough.net/2010/11/29/233-jump-in-puddles/
http://shootingthrough.net/2010/11/30/s11-paper-hat/
* http://shootingthrough.net/2010/12/01/muslim-headshawl/
http://shootingthrough.net/2010/12/02/235-christmas-decorations/
http://shootingthrough.net/2010/12/03/57-speed-writing/
http://shootingthrough.net/2010/12/04/83-go-dancing/
* http://shootingthrough.net/2010/12/05/s7-magic-trick/
http://shootingthrough.net/2010/12/06/s36-metal-green-thumb/
http://shootingthrough.net/2010/12/07/139-hunt-up-a-bargain-at-a-junk-market/
http://shootingthrough.net/2010/12/08/20-acoustic-guitar/
http://shootingthrough.net/2010/12/09/236-decorate-a-christmas-trees/
http://shootingthrough.net/2010/12/10/237-dress-up-for-dawn-treader/
* http://shootingthrough.net/2010/12/11/s50-decide-on-a-lifelong-dream/
http://shootingthrough.net/2010/12/12/238-carols-by-candlelight/
http://shootingthrough.net/2010/12/13/239-facing-the-paint/
http://shootingthrough.net/2010/12/14/its-a-boy/
http://shootingthrough.net/2010/12/15/241-good-santabad-santa/
http://shootingthrough.net/2010/12/16/242-modern-art/
* http://shootingthrough.net/2010/12/17/243-record-the-snore/
http://shootingthrough.net/2010/12/18/244-gingerbread-house/
http://shootingthrough.net/2010/12/19/245-food-on-fire/
* http://shootingthrough.net/2010/12/20/246-the-whole-family-thang/
#246: The Whole Family Thang
My sister and her husband and baby daughter are a-visiting, yay!
Yesterday, for one day and one day only, my entire immediate family (plus spouses and children) got together, and ate Christmas lunch.
The newest member of the family was understandably suspicious. . .
. . . and it was VERY clear who’d taken on the role of drunken uncle.
Quotes from the lad included:
This drink is going up, up, all the way to my brain.
That’s funky.
#245: Food on Fire
This friend of ours (who held a party yesterday) had also prepared a Christmas Pudding. . . in July. He’s been maturing it and feeding it (yes, that’s what he called it) ever since, using his British great-grandmother’s recipe.
And then he set it on fire.
The truly peculiar thing is that I view Christmas Puddings with the same polite distaste as, say, dead house plants.
But I tasted a mouthful of fruity, nutty deliciousness (with brandy butter, naturally) and nearly fainted dead away. The thing was delicious. I then ate most of a slice, treating its location on CJ’s plate with cavalier disregard (and then I went and “helped clear up” the few fragments left on the serving plate).
Suddenly British Cuisine makes some kind of sense (under very specific circumstances).
Huzzah!
I’ve asked the friend for the full recipe, and will be posting it here as soon as I get it.
——-
Here it is – with his comments!
You can get all of the ingredients in Australia, the only problem one is the suet. You can NOT use the stuff from the supermarket as they mix it with flour, you will need to go to a good butchers and ask for suet, they will probably tell you to come back the next day for it. once you have it you need to put it in the freezer and grate off the quantity required.
You may well need to halve this one as it makes two large puds or 3 medium ones.
Good luck when you do them, they can be made well in advance of Xmas as they will keep well in a fridge or cool dark cupboard (i make mine in July, same time i make my Christmas cakes, and let them mature.)
#244: Gingerbread House
Today CJ and I went to a Christmas party, and discovered our friend had made a village of gingerbread houses, with one for every single guest (he made them from scratch, too). Seriously awesome – and seriously fun.
Viktor Frankl, Garth Nix, and Yours Truly
Here’s a quote from Don Miller talking about Viktor Frankl: “Tested in the concentration camps, Frankl realized no amount of torture could keep a person from living a fulfilling life, if only they had three elements working for them: a project in which they could contribute, a person to love, and a worthy explanation for their suffering.”
Living a meaningful life is far more important to me than anything else. The year I finally gave up my twelve-year plan to go to Indonesia as a full-time aid worker was also the year my chocolate habit suddenly went from a cute foible to something that controlled my life. I’d never been out of the healthy weight range before then, and I’ve never stopped struggling with my weight since.
I am as certain as it’s possible to be that God doesn’t want me in Indonesia – I’d feel like Jonah disobeying God if I went there now (and I hear that didn’t work out). The other two main reasons for giving up Indonesia were that I love my writing more (when I’m in Indonesia I find I write non-fiction, which isn’t what I most love), and it was pretty clear that the main reason I wanted to go to Indonesia in the first place was to suffer.
One sure-fire way to feel special and close to God is by sacrificing a lot in a great cause. But throwing myself into increasingly painful situations in order to feel okay about myself isn’t the right way to go about it.
But I gotta tell you, switching destinies from, “Helping poor third-world children” to “sitting in my room typing up books that no-one reads” is crushing. Every day.
Writing books sort of counts as a “project in which I can contribute” except that I’m not contributing anything of worth – in my opinion.
If I suffer, it’s because I’m doing a whole lot of work that no-one cares about (which is where publishing comes in – and it’ll probably happen eventually, which’ll mean, since I definitely have someone to love, that I’ll be scoring at least 2 out of 3).
This interpretation of the meaningful life at least justifies how much lack of publication hurts. Writing meaningless books that are paid for (and read by the public) is obviously more life-affirming that writing meaningless books that I have to pay someone to read.
Which brings me to Garth Nix. You all know I adore “Sabriel” with a passion verging on that of an internet stalker. I’ve read it about four times this year alone. But in some ways I love “Lirael” and “Abhorsen” (books 2 and 3 in the trilogy, but they’re really one massive story) more.
I admire “Sabriel” because it’s brilliantly written, but my stalker-love stems from the fact that Sabriel is such a hero. She has a great cause, and she sacrifices everything for it. In short, she’s exactly who I’d like to be – and metaphorically, a close match to my Indonesia-travelling self. Too bad my Indonesia-travelling self is dead.
Lirael’s story is much closer to my own. Throughout the 600-word book, she wants one thing: The psychic gift that every single person in her community has. Without that gift, she can’t contribute to her society, and she is still considered a child. At the end of the book, she finds out that she has a different gift – a gift which was (in part) perfectly obvious, but which never seemed important to Lirael. She will never get the destiny she wanted – but she does have another that no-one else in any of the three books possesses.
It’s not a triumphant ending. In some ways, Lirael’s discovery comes as a relief. In other ways, it’s devastating – the final realisation that she will never be what she’s wanted to be all her life. (It parallels a discovery by the other main character, Sameth.)
In the final book, “Abhorsen”, both of the main characters go through all kinds of pain – except one: they know and accept their real destinies. The whole book is infused with a sense of purpose, and reading it (especially after the long pain of “Lirael”) fills me with hope.
Like Lirael, I have a longed-for destiny shut off from me, and another one waiting for me to fully embrace it. I hope that one day I can believe that my second destiny really does matter as much as the first.
In the meantime, stuck as an unpublished writer, I am still a child – dependent on others, and unable to contribute something of worth to the wider society. That’s never going to stop hurting – but one day it’ll stop.
Felicity Banks 