Tag Archives: whining

Juggling, juggling…

It seems like a lot of what I’m doing lately is muttering about being hit with a bunch of stuff going on. Well, I guess it’s pretty true. Some of it is good stuff. I’ve got a couple of side gigs going with my old school district–one is performing diagnostic academic assessments to cover for a teacher who left midyear. That takes up a week out of the month, but I’m back in the groove and feeling good about it. The other side gig is teaching online PE and Health at an alternative school setting for three half days a week. I’m learning new methodologies and figuring out stuff. That’s fun.

But it takes energy away from writing. Sigh.

And then the son has had some health issues, and that has involved more time in PDX. I’m having problems being creative there, and some of it is just energy drain from figuring out how to manage the work, plus not being aggressive about carving out my writing space.

Then the horse is showing bruising on her toes. It doesn’t show from her movement, which is good, but it’s worrisome. We’re now limited to walk-trot work as a result.

Ah well. On the way back from Portland yesterday, we took a new road from Umatilla to Athena. I got to see some of the landscape of Beyond Honor and think about it a little bit, as well as have some soul-searching conversations with the husband about some things I’ve been turning over in my brain.

Part of the issue is that I just don’t have it in me to burn the candle at both ends for my art. I remember the days when I did that–getting up at 4:30 am to write before leaving the house at 6 to get to work by 7. I’d edit stuff at lunch, then come home and work some more at night. I kept that up for about four years, until the work started falling apart because of the economy. While I’m grateful for that era, because it taught me what I could and couldn’t do when faced with a deadline–I’m now reluctant to put myself through it for what minimal reward I got for those years of hard work. Yeah, I sold work. But nothing big happened. Lightning stubbornly avoided striking me, except for a couple of consolation prizes. I know folks who did the same thing and got lots of return for it. Awards, book sales, big contracts.

Me? Not much.

If it sounds like I’m in a down mood about the writing and the production, well, yeah, I am. I don’t see many breaks on the horizon, and when I try to promote, it just doesn’t seem to come out right.

March. Arrrgh. I’m sure things will look better in the morning.

But damn, it would be nice to get a breakthrough on the writing. The teaching side gigs are a new way to approach the work, but…it’s not really where my heart is. I could probably build up a consulting practice if I chose to put the work into it, but for what? Who really benefits? I’m satisfied with what I’m doing now, and yeah, if I could find about this level of work on a predictable basis, I’d go for it.

However…if the writing ever kicked up the equivalent reward, I’d drop the teaching side gigs in a heartbeat.

I’m just getting more and more cynical about it ever happening, absent a lot of investment of cash into workshops and other networking opportunities, and not even then. My track record for such things is depressively unproductive. For whatever reason I seem to be connection-blind.

I dunno. Just one of those nights when I’m questioning and frustrated. Oh well. It will pass. I know these moods.

Just wish…I don’t know.

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December at Farpoint

Winding down after another day at Renovation/Remodeling World, Enterprise Version. Hey, we had mountains this morning, and then the fog moved in. But it was a high fog, and temps warmed above freezing, so with ski base layers and other stuff I could move around freely. We are within striking distance of getting the basement free of dust and stuff (old coal dust….we still have the old Fairbanks-Morse coal stoker in the old coal bin, and pulled out about ten pounds of coal. But still. Coal dust. Must go.).

Tried to write this morning but with the urgency of various errands to run around the County, including a 20 mile drive to Wallowa to pick up insulation, I got maybe about 300 words in. Doesn’t have the flow of the words I lost the other day, but oh well. Words got put down. Then it was drive down to Wallowa in the Dakota to pick up what I thought would be insulation rolls…but turned out to be batts. 30 packages of batts. 4 at a time in the Dakota. Luckily, I was able to figure out a way to keep from having to drive so far so many times and we got all 30 packages to the house. Then, after further Adventures in Basement Cleaning, we met with the contractor for Phase II (floors, porch and more windows). After that, between the two of us, we hoisted those 30 packages to the attic, for further work. Not me doing that, fortunately…just the hubby. But we got an oil delivery done, got the insulation on site, and are now down to mopping the basement. Getting there.

Meanwhile, I keep searching online for more information about that Fairbanks-Morse coal stoker and getting nowhere. It’s definitely a 1920s-1940s thing. Burgundy and cream, and when the tongue of the stoker was buried under junk, we thought it was possibly a Coca Cola cooler. Nope. It would be nice to find out if it’s worth anything, but unless there’s major $$$$$ involved, I’m not pulling it out of that corner now.

Since we don’t have TV service here, we went out to watch the Ducks game (seriously, this is not a place where rabbit ears or anything short of a subscription will get you even basic TV). Good grief, the team I grew up with snatching defeat from the jaws of victory is now winning and is #2 in the country. Huh.

And now the publisher drama has escalated. Apparently they are “redefining their image” to be family friendly. Not sure what that means yet. Hoping that means they will be willing to release the fantasy novel that I absolutely don’t think will a.) meet their criteria and b.) is not something I want to revise to meet that criteria. Drama continues. Of course it all comes to a head when I’m out of town and have iffy Internet. Isn’t that the way it works? I can hardly wait to get reliable Internet access here. Right now I’m limited to cell phone connectivity, and that’s iffy. Tonight is an exception because I have access to regular Internet.

Thinking thinky thoughts about where I need to go as an independent writer. Somehow, I have to get past my usual trend of catching the wave just as it’s broken and not earning a good ride because of bad timing. Somehow, I’ve gotta figure out a way to balance family and myself so that I can catch that break at just the right time.

My gut tells me this next year may be crucial. But dear God, what obstacles lie in my way? So freaking tired of freaking obstacles, while watching others seem to glide on through with no problems. When will it be my turn?

Ah well. A brief moment of angst. Sooner or later it will happen…or not, as the case may be. It didn’t happen with horses, much as I wanted it, because I realized what I needed to do far too many years after I had the physical capabilities to do it. The recession and those fucking education reformers exploded my hopes and dreams for making a difference in special education work (my perception is that we’re going to have to fight to regain where we were in the late 90s, pre-No Child Left Behind). Damnit, one of these days I’ve gotta find something that works.

Or maybe not. Maybe I’m doomed to the same curse as my ancestors….coming to the end of my days with nothing more than a small ripple of effect on the world, my stories barely heard, my voice effectively silenced, despite years of raging and fighting and arguing against being silenced. Thirty years ago I was being silenced because I was young and cute and blond. Now…it’s because I’m old and female.

Damn it.

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Getting on with it

Part of the reason for writing this post is to get myself over the hump of my last few weeks at work. I counted down the days today and tomorrow is Day 30 with less than seven weeks to go; okay, now I will let myself count down the days on the board rather than let them silently slip through my fingers.

Not that I will be in the classroom this week. This week is Round Two of reading tests, so I will be in the computer lab instead, wrestling with the computers. Because of course today had computer drama. My work laptop does not talk to any printer but my personal confidential printer. Even when I ran the other drivers, it didn’t want to talk to it. Sigh. That presents a problem when you are printing out passages and needing to manage them in test site confidentiality. Nonetheless, that problem got solved. A minor glitch, but one that still caused some issues.

There are other things going on that I won’t talk about, but suffice it to say that not all is paradise in Narnia. In fact, things appear to be…well…sigh. Deep sigh. I had hoped….

Isn’t there a proverb somewhere out there about hope and foolishness? Or the foolishness of hope? I remember how the unease came over me when I fielded a summer call from work while driving through Illinois. I excused the unease, of course. Wrote it off to experiencing big changes. But what I didn’t realize was the effect of those changes.

Not that I could have done anything.

Anyway. Time to get on with it, to stop letting the pains of body and soul drag at me and slow me down. Time to do what it takes to survive these thirty days. Seven weeks.

I can do this.

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Ouch. A grumble.

I’m a hurtin’ cowgirl this morning. No, I’ve not fallen or anything like that–rather, the family history of aches and pains is catching up with me. The rheumatiz. The arthritis. Overuse syndromes. Tendonitis. Yuck.

There are various causes for the aches and pains. Not fibromyalgia; already ruled out. Myofascial pain syndrome was diagnosed years ago, during another winter of aches like this past one. A past inflamed bursa in one foot now flares up when I’ve been on my feet too long at work. Then there are different overuse syndromes in places ranging from thumbs to shoulders to knees, etc, etc, etc.

No advice needed regarding managing it, please. I’ve been through this dance for many years and I have the management kind of figured out. I can’t take NSAIDS due to the effect on my gut and it’s not bad enough for steroids or other arthritis meds. Acupuncture helps with immediate trauma but not the long-term stuff. I already get body work done, and I’m not willing to spend lots of $$ chasing probable remedies.

Part of the problem is a cascade of fatigue-pain-backing off from stretching/workouts that help manage the pain and fatigue. When I’m tired, I have to back off from doing my stretches (which keep the pain at bay). I end up doing stuff that triggers the overuse syndromes otherwise, and sometimes it happens anyway. The pain keeps me from stretching, and it interferes with sleep. Nasty cycle.

The 80 mile daily round-trip commute doesn’t help things, either. This is the second year that I’ve developed tendonitis in my thumbs that we can attribute to the daily drive. The immediate trigger was something else, but the driving doesn’t help. Ah well, after June 13 it won’t be an issue.

Meanwhile, this spring break, I plan to get back into stretching and working out. I’ll have time to rest, as well as work on the writing and other stuff that needs to get done. Take the time to get this stuff under control and prepare for the last long slog.

I can do this. But man, it sure does ache.


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Grr. I hate this story.

So it appears that, for a novella, the I hate this pile of absolute, stinking dreck mode wants to hit about 5000 words in. Interesting.

Basically, it’s only been the last year or so that I’ve been playing with drafting and writing novellas. The pacing is–different. By now, when it comes to a full-blown novel of about 100,000 words, I’ve got a certain comfort level as to where what plot element is going to go when, and just about how many words I want to develop a particular scene sequence in, and just when the blahs strike. But this is the third novella-type project I’ve developed, and I’m only now seeing how and where and why I struggle with it. Trying to find just enough complexity without overloading the plot is the big challenge.

I’m also writing a whimsical sort of quasi-young adult-themed story here as well, involving magic and sewing and coming-of-age-against-odds plot tropes. It’s out of my usual element, but it’s a story I want to tell. I developed the idea from another story that got rejected, so it’s also a redesign project. I’ve done that type of blow it up, redesign it, and recast the tale sort of writing before. Just not at this length.

So it’s a learning curve, but because I’ve been wrestling with Andrews Ranch, I realized where the problem spot is. At this point the goal is to press on through, get the words down, insert brackets bemoaning a particularly infodumpy and clunky section to rewrite later, and plan on extensive rewrites. The story is twisting and changing as it comes out, and it’s damnably unruly right now.

Feh. Doesn’t mean it’s an easy process.

A complicating factor is that I took on some additional contract work at the Day Jobbe. It’s nice to have, but very intense and exhausting. I leave early on those days and don’t get many words in before I go, and when I return, I’m usually so wiped out I can’t write. Ah well, it’s half over. I’m glad for it, but–it adds to the distraction for this work.

So goeth the writing life. I have other things to write so this needs to get done in first draft. Then I can work on something else and get perspective on this one.

Still, it’s definitely a spell where I’m at grrr–I hate this story mode.


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Well, that was a weekend

Those of you who know me personally are aware that I don’t have a lot of tolerance for high temperatures, especially humid high temps. I’ve done a lot of what’s recommended to help, but the bottom line is still this–I’m a lousy candidate for muggy, warm survival situations. Give me snow and ice any day instead, or else dry heat with cool evening temps. Hydration, electrolytes–no matter what, all of that is temporary. At some point, I succumb to the effects of heat exhaustion if I go through too many days of high heat without any cool relief. Come the big global warming, you’ll find me as high up on a mountainside as I can stand to be, probably seeking the last glacier for relief. If climate change turns to global cooling instead, I’ll be a happy girl.

Heat problems happened this past Friday. The temps hit the mid-90s on Wednesday, even on the Mountain, followed by two days where it was almost as hot. And muggy. Even worse in my south-facing classroom, where I couldn’t really open my door because of the noise and distraction from younger kids at recess for most of the afternoon.

Wednesday and Thursday were survivable, though the warnings from the ol’ bod started popping up on Friday morning with roiling gut, achy muscles, and general fatigue. But on Friday afternoon, as the room temps climbed toward 80+ degrees, I was struggling. I opened the door as soon as I could, but even that gave me and the kids little relief. I was simply grateful that my classes weren’t larger.

Still, I felt awful as I left work. I’d planned to go to the barn and ride Mocha, but realized that might not be too good an idea. I went home, self-medicated for the body aches with a couple of drinks after a good dinner…and ended up hurling it all back up. Fairly predictable, and it’s something that has happened in the past, even without the alcohol. It didn’t help that the house was hot because we’d had a contractor in to repair some dry wall, so the house had to be open to air out the smell while the mud dried. Even with ice packs on my neck I felt miserable and sick.

Saturday was pretty much a lost cause. I slept until noon, drank water mixed with sugar and salt to help my gut absorb it, but it wasn’t until 4 pm–about 24 hours after leaving that hot, muggy room–that I started feeling remotely human. Shortly after that I started writing, and got in about 1500 words. By Sunday I was sufficiently recovered, though tired, enough to clean up the room that had gone through dry wall repairs and move everything back, plus do lesson planning and write a little bit.

At least this is probably it for hot weather around here this year. Next spring, even if it is hot, won’t be so bad because of the angle of the sun. It’s only horrible in the fall (thank you so much Nasty Past Administrator who had the trees that blocked that sun cut down).

(And for those of you who’d offer advice, suggest ice pack head coverings, ice pack bandannas and the like–nope. All forbidden by dress codes for students which means I can’t do them either. And fans get subject to other issues of accessibility plus they don’t do that much for air movement. This is just a kvetching post, not a solicitation for advice.)

It wasn’t a completely lost weekend, for which I am grateful. Needless to say, I’m welcoming the coolness and wet today. It’ll still take a few days for the system to completely be happy post-heat, but like my rescue chrysanthemums that kept springing bigger and bigger the more I watered them this weekend, I’m coming back from the heat.

Winter is coming–and I’m one who’s looking forward to it.

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So that was a long weekend

Besides going to the Blues Festival, I managed to write 7200 words on a short piece–one of the Netwalk Foundations segments. It will be going up next week. And now I absolutely have to stop writing long pieces for what’s supposed to be a short snippet worldbuilding promo, not full-on short stories. Period. I’ll do that after the last Daughters piece.

Still, I managed to get some good ideas in place for what the conflict will be in what was Netwalking Mars and will now be Netwalking Space. Because, well, pacing doesn’t work for Mars, but the Moon and space stations and near-earth-orbit asteroids and killer drone satellites from God-Knows-What’s-Out-There do work. Boy howdy, do they ever work. I also figured some things out about Netwalk’s Children, but those pieces still need to come together. These long stories at least are serving a function–they’re helping me work on some of the main story concepts, while writing scenes that probably won’t be in any of the books, but are turning points nonetheless.

Meanwhile, Blues Festival was a lot of pleasant music, and I managed to pull off some exobrain stuff that actually works. I found a bus tracker app for my iPhone which worked right nicely for what we needed it to do. Then I was able to use my iPhone as a personal hotspot, write on my tablet (with detachable keyboard), and upload the day’s work to Dropbox, come home, download it on the main computer, and work some more. Worked smooth as can be. Yeehaw.

Plus I also figured out the Facebook app on my iPhone, and read everything I’ve downloaded in my Kindle. Okay, that took less time than I thought it would. I can see that if I ever get a job again where I can commute by bus, my e-book reading investments will go up. Not that such a thing is ever likely to happen (big sigh). Not unless I can find something that isn’t a teaching job, I think, and right now any job prospect looks pretty damn dim. I still want to get away from the 80+ mile commute, but based on the results of the last teacher hiring season–bleh. So not happening this year. Or next year, really, because I just don’t see the employment and economic situation improving. Bleh, bleh, bleh. Let’s just say that job world is a pit of despair and leave things at that.

At least on the horse front everything is going reasonably well. Miss Mocha has taken to nickering at me when I go out to ride her nearly every day. Her coat shines like it should this year. Now, if I could only fix those damn brittle hooves without resorting to yucky nasty soaks. It’s not that the hoof wall is particularly dry, it’s that the wall is thin, whether she’s barefoot or shod. At least when she’s barefoot she builds up a thicker sole and is less ouchy than she is in shoes (seriously, horse? Ouching across gravel with shoes on? Really?). She gets a biotin supplement (Trifecta) but we still have cracks and chips up the wazoo, mustang roll or no mustang roll, shoes or no shoes.

This year it’s pretty bad, but I keep wondering about the weird coat from last summer/fall and how it may have impacted her hoof growth. Still haven’t figured out why that weird coat growth happened, but nonetheless, despite no changes in husbandry, no changes in health, she had a hair coat that just didn’t grow in right last fall and winter. I keep looking at her hooves and I swear I can see the difference about an inch down with better, firmer hoof wall. I suppose that means we’ll have a few more months or so of dealing with that hoof wall.

Anyway, we’re having good works right now. Back in the curb, my thumb’s healed up so I can manage the neck rein like I should. I’m watching now for the first signs that we’ll need hock injections. So far, just the beginning hint that the time might come in August, but nothing for certain yet.

And that’s it for today.

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It’s…been a while. Obviously.

No, I’ve not forgotten about the blog.  It has just been a long and weird time. What with the quiet, stealthy launch of Netwalker Uprising (available on Createspace, Amazon, Barnes and Noble, and Smashwords) and the underwhelming response so far, and, well, Life Stuff…there’s not been a lot of blog action. Plus I’m carrying around a lot of frustration and such-like, even in the midst of some hopeful glimmers.

Amongst other things, I had a possible exciting opportunity connected to the Day Jobbe career present itself but, due to lack of sufficient support from the family, mainly because it would require a significant relocation–I had to back off from it. I’m still working through the anger and sadness of that situation. My decision was probably for the best but…I’m still extremely unhappy about it. That closes a door to something I had hoped would happen about now, something I’d dreamed of for years–and it’s gone. Another dream dead, joining the piles of hopes and dreams I’ve had to bury over the years in the name of family choices.

The lack of response to Uprising also makes me think this is another dream that is going to die. Granted, I’ve perhaps not pushed it as hard as I should have, but when I think of those who were excited about it earlier, but who clearly haven’t followed through…sigh.  Lack of promotion or lack of interest? I’m not sure which. I love the cover, I think the story’s a strong one, but still…crickets. Chirping. Nothing. Oh well, I own the rights to the damn thing and that’s probably the smartest thing I’ve done. There are other prospects I’m considering in connection to this world but it will take time.

One positive thing which has happened is that I’m in the midst of exploring some positive options and developing some projects which might fly. The depressed pragmatist in me says this dream too will get killed. But the hopeful optimist points out that, like with the package I pulled together for the Day Jobbe-related opportunity, even if this prospect doesn’t work out, I now have viable marketing packages for three writing projects that I will not need to modify too much to send out elsewhere.

But…I am also extremely angry at my government’s leadership and a President who seems determined to shaft people my age and younger.  My parents and my much older siblings had and have decent retirements. It is not looking like I will have much of a retirement, if any, ahead of me. My spouse might, since he’s just old enough to slip past the worst of it, but it’s unlikely as there are circumstances that will entangle both of us and drag us down. Yeah, I know I blithely assumed this would be the case when I was younger. But facing that reality is pretty damned stark at this point. I knew the poisoned cup would get around to me. That knowledge doesn’t ease my resentment, now that I’m facing it, especially when I read chirpy accounts from various retirees who will not face what I am going to face.

I want a President with the cojones to tell the current Republican leadership to bugger off and quit starving the beast, we’re taking care of our people. But he’s been bought and paid for. I knew this in 2008, but I had hopes that my worst fears were wrong. Don’t get me wrong, I’ll take the sop that the ACA threw us, but most of it is about screwing the 99% over in the long run. What really angers me is that I’ve seen this trend developing since the 80s, hell, I even wrote about pieces of it in the 90s for the Metrozine, but…I never tried to parlay it into something bigger.  See dreams died, dreams buried for that one.  There were reasons for not following up. Now I wish I had, and damn the consequences. Maybe things would have been better for more people if I had.

And part of the problem is that I have been extremely lousy at the sort of self-promotion that would advance my writing, that would advance my Day Jobbe career, that would advance me in a lot of ways. I have always been a girl who’s wanted to put my head down, do the work, and not fuss about promoting it. Guess who gets screwed with that attitude. In this modern era, it’s more important to blow your own horn than actually, y’know, do the work, and that ticks me off.


Not all is grumpy. Some good things that I can’t talk about have happened at the Day Jobbe, not anything that will personally advance my career but things that confirm for me, deep in my heart, that my particular approach to sped teaching is the right one for this group of kids. I’m growing and developing there, and that makes me quietly happy even in the midst of things that make me angry and despairing. Part of teaching is that the teacher needs to be learning from the students and boy, has this ever been a year where I’ve learned from the kids.

I had a nice con at Norwescon, despite unrelated drama, and had much-needed interaction with my favorite tribes of writer people. I came home with a little dragon pet, Little Draco, who’ll get his own little blog at some point (no, I’m not normally a dragon person, but I have two dragon bracelets and Little Draco, who sits by me while I write and goes on my stick shift when I drive to work. Clearly they called to me.  Why, I don’t know. I’ve only written one very sarcastic dragon story).

I’m also quietly happy about the other projects because hopefully they’ll pay off. If not where they are now, then somewhere else.

I’m happy about the package I put together for the Day Jobbe opportunity. I am humbled and honored by the praise I got and realize that what I do does matter to someone besides me.

And the ski boot issue may have finally gotten resolved, just in time for the end of the season (sigh).

So there are good things amongst the shadows.  It’s just hard to see the glimmers of light through the curtains of darkness. And with that, it’s back to work, before I leave for the Day Jobbe.

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Ugh. Somehow I expected better with weather heat transitions

So I thought that losing all this weight would help me deal with sudden transitions in PNW temperatures during the summer.


Yesterday we had a rapid swap from cool and damp to sunny, humid and warm (80s Fahrenheit).  I had plans, including taking in a yoga class at a new studio, working on the novel, and other things.  I took DS to the doctor’s office to start up the new medication (Humira).  We came home, I realized it was too late to get started at a new yoga place, so I ate lunch and began work on novel revisions.  My office is in the back of the house, which gets hotter during the day than the front.  Despite all of my preventatives, it got warmer.

I finished the rewrite section, then started walking around the neighborhood to do my errands.  Halfway through, I started feeling sick.  Ruh-roh.  Came home, did chores, and then collapsed, feeling shaky and sick, my gut cramping and showing all the other symptoms of heat problems.  Damn.

It doesn’t appear to have lasted very long.  I did the smart thing, remained hydrated throughout, and simply faded onto the bed and read a book.  Well, two books.  Today, the lingering result is a little bit of fatigue and a little bit of gut spasm.  Fairly typical.

But this is dang annoying.  I’ve never been good at quick weather transition changes from cold to hot.  In the past this difficulty might have been attributed to weight.  But considering I’m pretty much at where someone of my age and height should be (by one calculation I’m probably at 7.1% body fat with a BMI of 20.9), that’s not a factor now.  So the issues run deeper than that.

Part of the problem is that I am such a stereotypical Northern white girl in body type that it isn’t funny.  Born strawberry blonde, now bottle redhead.  Burn easily, stay pale compared even to other white folk.  Much over an hour in direct sunlight early in a hot summer, and I start feeling shaky, upset gut, and light-headed.  Even later in the summer I have to pace my exercise and seek the shade.  Needless to say, I’ve never been a sun worshiper.  For me the sun really is a bright hurty thing.

It doesn’t work that way in winter.  I can caper all over the slopes on a bright sunny ski day in temperatures below freezing and, as long as I’m properly layered up, I do fine.  As long as the temps stay below 50 degrees F I’m pretty good–heck, I’m good even up to the low 70s.  But 80 degrees F and above?


Humidity is also a factor, as are allergies.  I do better in hot and dry (though not in Las Vegas three digit temps, BTDT.  No.  Freaking.  Way.  Even with AC).  Hiking in Tucson on a warm winter day brought on the beginnings of heat issues and humidity and allergies weren’t raging then.

Grr.  It’s annoying.  Clearly I’m a creature of the Pacific Northwest, especially the wet side.  Looking at a temperature map of the past spring, what area’s been below normal for temps and above for wet?  Yep.

Oh well.  Eventually we’ll get past the see-saw temperatures and settle into a warm pattern.  After a week or so my body will adapt and I can resume an active life without worry, as long as I wear a hat, take frequent breaks in the shade, and don’t sit out in direct sunlight.  It’s just freaking annoying that I can’t use weight loss as a solution.

Of course it wouldn’t be this easy.  Of course.

And, of course, I own a horse who loves this hot weather.  Damn.

(And, please, I’m not really needing advice.  This is a grumble, not a request for advice.  I’ve tried a lot of things, and I still can’t get past the initial reaction to heat.  We do have AC in this house, temperamental as the damn thing is.  I stay hydrated.  I’m careful with what I eat, though in retrospect I suspect I ate too much fatty food yesterday which contributed to my issues.  Still, this is a regular pattern and trust me, I’ve tried a lot of stuff.)

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The best-laid plans….

I started feeling blah yesterday.  It wasn’t for any obvious reason other than the typical February doldrums.  No reason to feel down about Valentine’s Day, no reason to feel down about work stuff because I was in the same place I’ve always been every mid-February–piled on higher and deeper with work.  And of course I had too much to do outside of the day jobbe, but again, that’s February for you.  What else is new?

Well, I got a call from DS that there were some house issues going on.  Deep sigh.  Got home, figured out the gutters needed to be cleaned, and DH might very well be late getting home.  So I took a deep breath, pulled out the extending ladder, and started working on gutters.

Our house is a one-story, thankfully.  BUT.  It’s a long one-story house, shaped somewhat like a L.  Gutter cleaning in the best of situations takes a good forty-five minutes, and this was a winter evening.  Post-sleet.  Post-several days of hard winds.  We don’t get leaves here as much as we do needles from the various Doug firs near the house…and boy, were those gutters full.

The good news was that I got the gutters clean.  And I realized that I had a nasty cold sore brewing which had contributed to the overall feeling of malaise I was experiencing.  So I had reasons.  But still….bleh.

I will be so glad when February’s gone.

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