Shameless Plug

I've been waiting to hear from my editor to see if they are going to buy my third book. The deadline was back in October. Nothing. Several follow up phone calls, emails, rescheduling and...still nothing. I'm trying to be patient; this isn't unheard of in print publishing.

And honestly, I think I get why the decision may be particularly hard. On the one hand, it's a really good book. Probably the best of the three. On the other hand...the first two books aren't selling very well. Sales for the first one falling off may have been anticipated. But sales for the second have never been good. Mind you, I know why. Because of the situation I was in when the second one came out, I wasn't able to market it well at the time. Sales have always shown that. *sigh* Industry standard is that it would be very difficult to market it in mainstream venues at this late date. So, I'm marketing it here. And over at Facebook. And twitter. And anywhere else I can think of.

So go ahead, click here or here or, yes, even here. Buy books! Leave comments! You know you want to... :)

And thanks. It's time to do whatever necessary.

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee ~ and about $10.00 will get you two really great books.

Anticipation

This morning, I was sitting at the airport with Lithus and I saw someone reading the Sunday paper. Specifically, the Sunday comics. The sight made me smile. Admittedly, I don't think I've had a newspaper subscription in well over ten years, but the realization that the colored Sunday comics still exist made me very happy. I remember waiting for them and the joy that came with stretching out on the floor with the Sunday comics (I always saved Peanuts for last).

Without sounding like someone's grandmother, I do wonder if Timber's generation, let alone the generations after, have anything they anticipate. Sunday comics, Saturday morning cartoons, Christmas and other television specials. You didn't have to get too old before realizing that the countdown to those things and that warm burn of anticipation was just as good (if not better) than the explosion of the event itself. Even the disappointment that came when you missed something just taught you that much more how valuable the event was.

Right now, I think we are in a place where there doesn't have to be much anticipation. Want to watch How The Grinch Stole Christmas in June? No problem. Rent it or download it or plug in your dvd or blueray. Missed it on television? Trust me, no problem; it'll be on a dozen more times this season. Saturday morning cartoons are on all the time. Sunday comics can be found online any day.

Again, this isn't to be grumpy or curmudgeonly. This isn't a treatise on how much better life was when I was a youngin'. This really just is asking the question: I wonder if there's anything left to anticipate when everything we could want is available all the time. I hope there is. I hope I'm missing something. I hope Timber knows that warm burn and not just the explosion. And if this is the burp in the moment where there isn't anything, not really, then I hope Timber's generation is smart enough to change things up again. Because anticipation is worthwhile, too.

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

69? Really? Cool.

Contrary to reasonable expectation, this post is not about sex. It's about colleges and college rankings. The US News and World Report has come out with its college and university ranking. With My Heart looking at schools, I decided to check the list.

My alma mater, Northeastern University, is ranked 69th. Now, I always knew that, for my program, it fluctuated back and forth between number one and number two in the county (with Sam Houston State University in Huntsville, Texas, if you're interested). And I knew it was a solid school for a handful of other programs, as well. But nationally ranked...? I have to say, I'm surprised.

Sixty-ninth is just below WPI. It's tied with UConn and Virginia Tech. It's above American University, for crying out loud.

Honestly, I have stopped talking about having a degree in criminal justice because, thanks to DeVry and ITT Tech, a CJ degree has the respectability of a draw the pirate and you could be a real artist. But I am proud to say I have a pre-law degree with a concentration in international human rights law.  Guess I'll start adding from Northeastern University to that.

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

Missing Politics

Over the last several weeks, I've had friends comment on the fact that Pobble Thoughts has been notably a-political. Admittedly, this has never been a political blog, but they popped up every now and again, especially when there have been events of note. And there have definitely been events of note recently.

I have been keeping track. I have been reading, researching, learning. I have been as aware as I've ever been. I've even been composing in my head. Posts on

* events in the Middle East
* the union protests in this country
* the similarities between events in the Middle East and the union protests in this country
* the use of the word deserve
* the closing of schools and the laying off of teachers
* the rape and subsequent victim blaming of an 11 year old girl
* and so many, many other topics...

But I'm also still very, very angry. Not a healthy, motivating anger, either. That I would embrace. No, I'm angry in an unhealthy, affect my relationships, make me a nasty person and change my personality angry. Not to mention incoherently angry, which doesn't please me at all. I like being coherent, erudite even. These days, I'm just a spewer, blathering out shit that only makes sense while it's still in my brain but falls apart once it comes out of my mouth, making my stance on something seem trite, superficial, and unclear. Writing about events and issues that increase that anger, especially when others are doing it better, more eloquently, coherently, and with far less flailing and gnashing of teeth, than I can...well, that I will leave aside. It's one thing to rant and rave to my friends, take a deep breath, and move on. It's another to put it here, where it will live forever, this incoherent angry blathering.

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

International Women's Day

You know someone's gonna start whining because there's no International's Men's Day. *sigh*



Those are Pobble Thoughts ~ with some help from Judi Dench and Daniel Craig. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

Fur Rondy Mini Post

This is me:

 With a cat...

 Running Reindeer...

 And a very cold Lithus.

Want to know more? Go here. :)

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

Birthday Wishes

If you've run from Oobleck or heard a who,
If you've become friends with Thing 1 or Thing 2;
If you know the beauty of truffula trees,
If you know the alphabet stops not with zees;
If you've ever headed to Solla Sollew,
If you've run the circus, or even the zoo;
If you know exactly how lucky you are,
If your belly laughs at the need of a star;
If you ever saw it on Mulberry Street,
If green eggs and ham is your favorite treat;
If you've ever befriended a big-hearted moose,
Give thanks for your childhood ~ and Dr. Seuss.

Those are thankful Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

222

When my dad first died, I marked a lot of time. I wasn't suicidal or anything. Even then, I knew there were too many adventures to have to even think like that. Plus, it would be the greatest insult to his memory and his parenting. But I did mark a lot of time, living for the time I would die and get to see him again.

Even once the grief changed and I stopped marking time, started actually living for living again, I often said that, given a relatively sound mind and body, I wouldn't want to live past my mid-to-late 80s because I didn't want to go without seeing my dad any longer than that.

Last night, Lithus and I got to talking about vampires (don't ask). It dawned on me that, while I would miss my dad deeply, if I were with Lithus, I would be want to be immortal. It's a silly, unrealistic thing to even consider. And it made me smile anyway.

Guess I married the right guy two years ago.

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

Take 2

I'm a bit of a procrastinator. At the time I published yesterday's post, I still hadn't gotten Lithus a Valentine's Day card yet. Yeah...He, however, had presented me with flowers. And a poem. Yep. A poem. *Pobble dissolves into a puddle* Written by him, from his heart.

At the grocery store yesterday afternoon, there were several of us, looking at the cards. We got to chatting, the way strangers do, and bemoaning the fact that we had put off getting cards for our significant others until the last minute. Putting back yet another really bad card, I muttered "I got a poem." The woman next to me asked "Really?" "Yeah," I nodded. "How is one of these supposed to compete with a poem????" She shook her head. "You really can't." We laughed. I'm please to say I managed to do all right anyway. But let it be a lesson to you ~ you really can't compete with a poem.





My Flowers




Game hen, asparagus and couscous

  And yes, we ate in front of the television last night but here's why...


Casablanca in the background :)

 And last, but never least, my dear Lithus.

This isn't even how he was dressed for last night. This was just for going out the other day, rocking the Sean Jean on a random Friday to run errands. But he's gorgeous and I wanted to share. :)

Those are romantic, mushy, here's looking at you kid, Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

Valentine's Day

Yes, yes, yes, I know. It's a commercialized, artificial holiday, created by Hallmark and other evil corporations.

So what?

See, I don't care. I love it. Always have.

Now that I'm with Lithus? Good grief, I'm positively mushy. We each have things that make the day important. For me, it's flowers. No roses, thank you very much, but flowers. For him, it's a romantic dinner. Today, he showed up with an amazing bouquet, wild and messy and gorgeous. Tonight, I'm preparing Cornish game hen, with couscous and asparagus. And, of course, chocolate. :)

So to all of you, if you love Valentine's Day, or loathe it. If you celebrate it with a partner, or friends... Happy Valentine's Day. May your day be filled with chocolate and romance.

Those are mushy, romantic Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you yummy chocolates.

Weekend Ramblings

I have been busy and flat out since mid last week. I have nothing to show for it and nothing to point to and say "that's what I was doing" but today is the first day I've stopped. I'm okay with this.


Freaked out a little bit today. Never cross the streams. One of the followers of Pauline tweeted about a site and a specific post that an IRL friend has talked about frequently. And it's not a viral video, but a somewhat obscure site and post. Seriously, people, don't cross the streams.


Lithus is flying a gig for NASA over the next couple days. It's "rocket collection." Please note, it's not "missle collection." They were very clear about this. Rocket.


He will be based out of Fairbanks. The good news is that Fairbanks has warmed up to 11 degrees during the day, so the temperature won't be crazy cold for him.


Two new pairs of jeans, my cool boots from the previous post, and new lipsticks. I'm not sure if it speaks well about my character how happy these little things continue to make me ~ or if it means I'm a little pathetic. Regardless, I continue to be deliriously happy.


Hm...what should've been the first in this list, perhaps...we are, once again, as of today, grandparents. As my step-daughter put it "tell Pobble she's officially a grandmother; I know she'll love that." At least it's already been established that I don't hold babies.


Looking at pictures from my Heart's visit, we held a lot of food. Mind you, it was really big food and worthy of holding. Just check out the pizza (and the two amazing men I got to spend my week with, of course).

Still, we held a lot of food. I'll see if I can get him to send me pictures he took on his camera for a more event-based, less food-holding-based post.


Was flipping back and forth between the Super Bowl and the Puppy Bowl ~ until the puppies all decided they were tired of entertaining the non-football people and just lay down. Plus, there were no dachhunds. What is the point of showing adoptable puppies if there are no dacschunds?


Egypt...Yeah. Others have said it better and more eloquently so I'll leave it at: Egypt. *sigh*

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

I Tried...

I tried to adapt to living in Alaska. I wore flat boots. I wore appropriate clothing. I was waterproof and sturdy...and hated every damn minute of it.

Today, I'm wearing this coat:

 And these boots:

Good Lord, but I'm happy.

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

The Birthday Trip

A few months before My Heart turned six, I found a trip to New York City to see The Lion King on Broadway. We could afford it and Crow said I could take him and the birthday trip was born. Over the years, we've done Disney twice, NYC twice, Boston twice, Everett, Vancouver, and now Anchorage. Twice I simply couldn't afford anything. Once Crow booked something else for him the same week he was supposed to come to me. And once there was a Wii instead of a trip, at his request. Otherwise, my Heart's birthday trip is pretty much a given.

Because he is older, this year was a little different. We hung out. We played a lot of cribbage and watched even more netflix. My Heart had schoolwork to do every single day. We hit coffeeshops, went for walks, and did exciting things like laundry and grocery shopping. It's easier to do ordinary life things now that he's older. I didn't have to schedule the hell out of the week, ensuring that every single moment was interesting. He's old enough now to read a book, noodle on his computer, whatever. But there wasn't a lot of boredom, because we talked and laughed and kept ourselves entertained.

Because he is older, this year was...bittersweet. He's eighteen now. The birthday trip is no longer a given, after this year. Next year, he heads for college and a life that has its own schedule and new priorities. As I told him at the airport yesterday morning, hanging out with your aunt and uncle, no matter how beloved they are, probably won't be as important ~ and honestly, shouldn't be.

But as I waited for him to walk through security, I couldn't help but remember the way I had once had to brace myself for the impact of his little body running full speed to me once he saw me. Playing games in airports; trying new foods; getting to have sugar for breakfast and dessert for lunch; big band music; tea at the Ritz; invisible aliens; pictures of pigeons; seeing cities for the first time; planes, trains and automobiles... Eighteen years of memories and birthday trips and Aunt Mame time.

It's hard to see him grow up, let him go, know that this was probably the last birthday trip of its kind. The good news, though, is that, as Lithus put it on the way home from taking my Heart to the airport to go home, we have quite an unusual relationship. It may have been the last birthday trip of its kind. It's far from the last trip. We will have other adventures together. More importantly, though, he'll have adventures on his own and with his own friends and the family he creates. And I'll take credit for teaching him the world is for having adventures in. Because really...what amazing adventures await him...

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

To Be Sung

My Heart, my Heart, my Heart
Is here in town.
My Heart, my Heart, my Heart
Is here in town.
My Heart, my Heart, my Heart
Is here in toooooooowwwwwwwwwnnnnnnn....

My Heart is here in town!
Yay!

And I am a very happy aunt.

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

The Morning Dilemma

I'm getting too hot.
I just can't stay cold.
May be a sniffle;
Or I may be old.

What is the reason?
What could be the cause?
Perhaps it's a bug,
Or just menopause.

Too young for hot flashes?
I wish it was true.
The question becomes,
"Would I rather the flu?"

Hot bath or a cold pack;
It's quite a dilemma.
For now, pass the ice,
And put me on simmer.

With apologies to all the real poets out there in the world.

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

A Sadness

From the age of nine through high school, I walked in and out of three homes in my hometown as easily and as readily as I walked in and out of my own home. Truth be told, I think I could show up at all three of those houses tomorrow, ring the bell, walk in without waiting, and be welcomed. That's just how it was.

The Dad Person in one of those houses has died. I'm not sure I've seen him since my own father's funeral. I don't think I have. It doesn't matter.

Tonight, I am nine again, and having one of my first sleepovers in his t.v. room with his youngest daughter and another girl whose house I would eventually make another home. I am thirteen and have just gotten hurt in the theatre and his hugs are big enough to make me feel better and calm me down. I am fifteen and heading off to Philadelphia and he is at my going away party. And on and on and on...until I am twenty-seven and my father is dead and this other Dad Person is in our kitchen.

I am the youngest of the four daughters the two families have so, perhaps, it is the time that these phone calls and emails will start coming. But I don't want them to. And I don't want him to have been the first. It is, though, and he was.

Which makes me sad.

Those are Pobble Thoughts.

Twitter-ish Tweety

Oooo...there were blisters under the bandages. I wanted to take a picture but Lithus said no. Actually, Lithus didn't say anything. Just looked at me with that look. So no pictures. Ah well. All's better now, although Lithus says they felt like burns when the doctor first removed them. And no infection or anything. But still...oooooo. And ick.

Finally got in contact with my editor and my pub house. Her hoping to get the October deadline book read by the end of November was far too optimistic. She's now hoping to get it read in February. This is how it works. My first piece of advice to aspiring authors is finish the book. My second piece is have a ton of patience. Because you know what? It's not a no. She might not have said yes, but she hasn't said no. And I'll take that.

Pain meds continue to look really fun.

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

Twittery Tweet-ish

Have added muscle relaxants to the pain meds. He's resting better now ~ although perhaps he's just stoned out of his mind.

Sleep deprevation is an interesting phenomenon.

His pain meds include laudanum. Yep, laudanum. Apparently, they still make it. And yes, it still works. Especially when in combination with a muscle relaxant.

Of everything he's on, the one thing I'm concerned he'll become addicted to is the ice pack.

AFK

Away From Keyboard

See this studly man flexing his new tattoo for the camera? Yeah, he's not actually flexing. He's humoring me. And that's not actually a new tattoo. Check it out.

It's the word "yes." In sharpie pen.


As in, "Yes, doctor, this is the shoulder you are supposed to be cutting into and operating on." What I find interesting is that the handwriting is not mine, nor is it Lithus's. It's the doctor's. At the pre-op appointment, he marks the joint himself.


Back when Lithus was in Spain, he slipped stepping off the helicopter. A twist here, a missing handle there and, ta-dah, here we are! Rotator cuff surgery. All will be well, of course. However, after having been posting every single day for over a month, I realized I very well might just...not be here. *Poof* Plus, it's a fun chance to show off my dear Lithus. :)


Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee ~ but not after midnight or before 11:00 a.m.

Wrap Up

What an amazing holiday season it's been this year. Given that it started with Lithus out of town for Thanksgiving, I admit I'm surprised and pleased. I wouldn't have expected it to be so wonderful. While I am sorry to see them end, I am also looking forward to seeing what 2011 brings.


Because 2010 was certainly an interesting experience. We started in Connecticut, under the Lovely Cats's stairs. Then came a hot minute thinking we had a job in New Orleans, before Nevada and Crow's house ~ and my heart's bedroom, God love him. Then *boom* we're in Alaska, still living out of boxes, still living on the road, but in such a very different way.


So bring on 2011. There's an adventure around the next corner; let's go find it together, shall we?


Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.