December
Here’s what December means to me:
1. No more driving to tutoring work – all my students’ assessment is finished, and only one continues in holidays (which is why I tend to have eight weeks with basically no income each year – which is why we always aimed to have a baby in the Christmas holidays).
2. Christmas. More baby loot! And books! And other stuff! Probably including chocolate!
3. It’s possible I’ll have a non-premmie baby THIS MONTH – and it’s absolutely definite that (assuming December passes without child-birth style incidents) I’ll have a baby next month.
4. It’s possible I’ll hear back from an exciting literary agent who requested the full manuscript of my steampunk novel (a British woman, as it happens) – but assuming December passes without response-type incidents, I’ll definitely hear back from her next month.
December is a shiny month for me. How is December for you?
Mechanical dragon
Now obviously, I’m powerless to resist the phrase “steampunk mechanical dragon” (even if it does look somewhat uncomfortable to ride). So here you are, from artist Reinhard Shmid.
Abbrevs.
Today’s article is about common abbreviations and acronymns in the writing world. So simple, so useful.
Unlike Ana, who just lurks in a sinister manner.
Narnia #6 of 7: “The Silver Chair” by CS Lewis
This is altogether a darker and drearier tale than the rest. Instead of travelling through green lands (or snow-covered forest), our heroes – Eustace again (a completely different character to the annoyance he originally was), and a new character called Jill – walk through a seemingly endless barrenness, much like how I imagine the worst possible school camp. And it’s cold, too. Their companion is a creature called a Marshwiggle, and he is one of the greatest characters in the entire series (see the free sample for a taste).
In some ways this book is the most mature of the series – it is a classic quest (for a lost prince, the only heir of an elderly king), with a very clear set of instructions which immediately go awry. One of my favourite things about The Lord of the Rings is that it so often seems that all hope is lost, and the quest is doomed. This book has that same quality, which means that any good result feels deeper and more satisfying. For Christians, there is an even deeper and more satisfying implication – that God’s seemingly random instructions will actually make sense at some point, and that our own failures haven’t doomed us after all.
This book also contains some of the most peculiar and inventive aspects of Narnian life. CS Lewis certainly didn’t stop at a British landscape and talking animals.
Free sample (the marshwiggle, Puddleglum, is advising the children at the beginning of their journey):
“I don’t know that anyone can exactly help. It stands to reason we’re not likely to get very far on a journey to the North, with the Winter coming on soon and all. And an early Winter too, by the look of things. But you mustn’t let that make you down-hearted. Very likely, what with enemies, and mountains, and rivers to cross, and losing our way, and next to nothing to eat, and sore feet, we’ll hardly notice the weather. And if we don’t get far enough to do any good, we may get far enough not to get back in a hurry.
Both children noticed that he said “we”, not “you”, and both exclaimed at the same moment. “Are you coming with us?”
“Oh yes, I’m coming of course. Might as well, you see. I don’t suppose we shall ever see the King back in Narnia, now that he’s once set off for foreign parts; and he had a nasty cough when he left. . .”
Rating: PG. I’d call it absolutely G and safe for anyone, but one character is a close parallel to Jesus Christ (in one of the later books this character clearly states that he exists on Earth as well, is known by a different name there, and that the children have been brought into Narnia so that they can more easily recognise him on Earth), and some atheists have found that offensive. The books do focus on the adventures, rather than allegory about 95% of the time.
Salad plants
We went to lunch at a friend’s place and came home with two tomato plants and this lettuce plant. You gotta love a plant where, if you want some greens, you just pick off a leaf and eat it.
One Pregnant Day
This is what an average day now looks like for me:
2:00am and 5:00am (with surprising accuracy): Wake up and go to the bathroom. Some nights I wake up every time I need to turn over (because the muscle pain and odd sleeping angle makes it too complicated to do unconsciously).
8:00am: First alarm goes off. I take a maxolon without getting up. Usually have a cramp or two.
8:30am: Second alarm goes off. Drink a small glass of water, then get out of bed (probably visit the bathroom again) and go upstairs. Prep frozen raspberries to defrost on the table, put a tape on for three hours of daytime TV (which will take about two hours to watch due to all the ads, infomercials, and cooking segments). Eat Special K for breakfast (and vitamins B, C, D and iron) while checking email, posting the day’s twittertale segment, and perhaps writing a blog or reading some others.
9:00am: Go back to bed feeling ill.
12:00ish: Wake up and watch that morning’s tape while eating yogurt and raspberries, then a milo (can’t handle water yet, but I’m probably already dehydrated. The milo makes me feel sicker but the chocolate content makes it worthwhile), then a lunch of either peanut butter and honey weetbix sandwiches or bread with butter or nutella. I try to have at least 100mL of water with lunch, which quite often comes straight back up (but not into proper vomit; just a warning shot). Some chocolate or lollies as a reward for drinking water, and some kegel exercises.
1:00ish: Feeling good. Brush teeth, then immediately eat cheese and crackers (with up to 200mL of water) to dissipate the resulting nausea. Have metamucil (yuck).
1:30: Shower and/or pick one of the following: household chores or one errand or one visit to a friend or some writing or two minutes of extremely gentle riding on the exercise bike.
3-6pm: As above, but if I have a student I see them in this window, and try to avoid leaving the house at all that day so I’m well enough to do my one pathetic hour of work. Eat something starchy for afternoon tea as nausea comes back. Try to drink more water – or, failing that, another milo (while distracting myself with repeats of old comedies on TV).
5:30: Take one zofran, then keep still for half an hour, then have a snack to minimise pre-dinner nausea, along with at least 100mL of water. Cook/defrost dinner.
7:00: CJ is home, and we eat dinner (I sneak myself some chocolate while he’s not looking). I try to drink at least 100mL of water with dinner, and it often causes another regurgitation attempt. I reward myself with more chocolate, then have gaviscon and stay still for half an hour. Kegel exercises. Usually feeling pretty good nausea-wise although the lingering smell of dinner is gross.
8:00: I do some very gentle stretches on an exercise ball to help with back pain. If I’m doing well, I’ll do two minutes on the exercise bike. If I’m doing really really well I’ll do the dishes (about once a month).
10:00: Another snack (ideally yogurt, sometimes popcorn or more bready starch), and some more gaviscon. Stay very still for the next couple of hours (other than back-pain fidgeting) as muscle pain and nausea increases (generally I swallow vomit once or twice). Start getting super excited about bed time.
11:30/12: Go to sleep.
There are so many things to do every day (all the medicines and exercises and making sure I don’t get hungry), especially in the non-nausous window in the afternoon, that I often feel oddly busy despite devoting most of my days to passing the time until I can give birth and be non-nauseous once again.
My standard day is made up of about 11 hours of sleep, 8 hours of TV, 2 hours of staring into space, 1 hour of other activities (reading, talking on the phone), and 2 hours of doing something useful (including showering, brushing my teeth, and checking the mail). Some days – like yesterday – I do absolutely nothing. (I was so tired out and spacey that I cancelled my one tutoring hour, and also cancelled my plan to drive thirty seconds to the local shops to buy milk.)
I do think my nausea is decreasing (probably at least partly because I’m simply doing less) but the fatigue is amazingly intense. I felt drunk absolutely all day yesterday, and my whole body was heavy and sore. Lifting my arms was a huge effort, and walking across the room took a lot of pre-walk psyching up (and generally chocolate – I gained over two kilos this week, yuck). Talking was difficult, too (not for the first time). I concentrated super hard on reaching the end of a thought or sentence, and I still often failed. Slurring felt natural.
As of today, it is four weeks until I reach what CJ calls the “fully baked” stage – when Louisette would be considered early rather than premmie.
Regicide by dwarf
Gimli killed Aragorn, and Watson hid the body.
Perhaps I should explain.
Gimli and Aragorn are guppies, a decorative but tempestuous fish. Male guppies are constantly fighting (unless they are given a harem of female guppies, in which case they apparently get along fine, having better things to do – does that shed new light on “Lord of the Rings” for anyone else?) This is roughly what mine look like (Gimli being the orange one):
Watson is a bristlenose catfish who is five times the size of the guppies, but doesn’t attack unless one of the guppies tries to take his food. On the other hand, he’s been known to dispose of bodies before today. (Oh, and Watson is actually a girl – you can tell because, unlike this picture, he doesn’t have a moustache.)
I like to think it was actually Watson who ordered the hit. He is the big fish, after all.
I first noticed something was amiss when I saw Gimli chasing Frodo. Frodo is the smallest fish in the tank, a neon tetra, and had maintained his health by keeping out of everyone’s way. (Frodo is of indeterminate gender – is anyone surprised?) But Gimli’s thirst for blood was unquenchable.
I immediately removed Frodo from the main tank, and put him in with Gandalf, our Siamese fighting fish. Fighting fish will attack anyone with decorative fins (as will guppies), hence his solitude. He was a bit grumpy about sharing his space, and chased after Frodo a little, but isn’t nearly as vicious as Gimli. Frodo is neither a challenger nor a handy snack, so he is allowed to stick around.
And so an uneasy peace returned to the household.
Next time, I should name my fish after family members.
Different Folks
CJ and I have a lot in common, which is handy. But every so often one or both of us realises how different we are.
Guess what these books are?
That’s the books CJ is “currently reading” from the library. Which is to say, there are more library books by the front door ready to be taken back – and there are other books CJ is currently reading. I read one book at a time – maybe two, in unusual circumstances.
When we married, CJ owned about four hundred books* and two hundred DVDs. I owned about half a dozen books (having relied on the library system for many years), and a similar number of DVDs.
There are other differences between us, too.
Our TV set top box has just died. Fortunately, it was bought by C “buy reputable brands and pay extra for an extended warranty” J, rather than Louise “if you can’t fix it with gaffa tape, live without” Curtis – so it’s covered by warranty.
Insert your own conclusion here.
*not the only reason I married him
The Foldaway Office
I’ve linked to Brass Bolts before. It always has the most gorgeous pictures. The most recent article is on the steampunk office. My personal favourite is this one, for reasons that I think are perfectly obvious:
How to get published
Rachelle Gardner is an American Christian literary agent with a great blog. She wrote a post on how to get published, which is an excellent summary of the American system.
Australia is similar to the USA, except you don’t necessarily need an agent to get published (some choose to get an agent after having an offer for publication – agents are at their most useful when dealing with contracts), and the place to look for impartial advice is the Australian Society of Authors.
