It hasn’t stopped raining all day. Generally, I rather like rainy days but I prefer them when I can stay home, be lazy, listen to the rain and snuggle with the dogs. Unfortunately, today was not one of those days and, instead, I had to venture out into the wet landscape to go to work as usual.
The pups don’t like rainy days. It’s actually quite funny to see them. They get so excited when they get up in the mornings and I let them outside. They run out the back door and then…they stop. You can almost hear their little legs grinding to a halt as they realize it’s raining.
The unfortunate part is that they generally turn around and come back inside. This is fine if they’ve been out recently but when they just wake up after a night’s sleep, generally you’d think they had to go outside.
Even if they do, their desire to stay dry apparently overrules a full bladder. Since they’re completely housebroken and that they’re pretty smart, I used to assume that if they really needed to go, they’d go. Unfortunately, I discovered that this was the case only they decided to go indoors after I went to work.
This only happened once. Since then, I’ve found ways to get them to go outside. The meanest way I have is to trick them. It works well, I must admit. It’s pretty simple: I have two doors that lead to the back garden. They are in the same room, the Tuscan sunroom I redecorated earlier this year. The back doors face one another on opposite walls. One leads out to the patio. The other leads to the side of the house. On a normal day, I open up the door that leads to the side of the house and the pups run out.
On rainy days when they refuse to go out, I simply open up the other door. I step out onto the patio which has a slight overhang that keeps me dry. My loyal little pups follow, curious to see what I’m doing. Then, when they’re out, I quickly go back inside, shutting the door behind me. Meanwhile, I’ve left the other back door open. This means that they must go outside to get back into the house which inevitably leads to them realizing they might as well go to the bathroom since they’re already wet.
Yes, this is a mean trick. However, when I’m in a hurry and I have to get to work and I can’t coax them out any other way, it’s the best method to ensure they go outside. Also, they don’t seem to mind and come to greet me when they come back inside, trying to rub their little wet bodies against my legs- a small price to pay for my slightly cruel trick.
My nicer, kinder method to getting them to go outside is to simply go out with them. If it’s not raining too hard, I step outside for a minute. They follow. Then I go back under the overhang so I stay dry. They’re ok if they know I’m out there. If this doesn’t work, I have been known to stand out in the rain with an umbrella. They like it a lot more if I hold the umbrella over them too but, let’s face it, that’s just a little too indulgent. They seem content to be in the rain if they know I’m out there too.
If it’s not raining too hard, they don’t mind going out. It’s only when they get soaked that they mind. Of course, this is all dependent on their mood. There are times when they run out in the rain anyway. It seems that once they’re soaked, they figure that it doesn’t matter if they stay outside- they’re already wet. They tend to stay out for a while in this case. The bad part is that they’re soaked when they come in and if I’m not quick enough with the towel, they divebomb the carpet, rolling with glee as they get the beads of water off themselves.
Today was a day when they didn’t want to go out. In the morning, I had to resort to my cruel trickery. At lunch, I stood out there with them. This evening, well, I left the door open enough so that when the rain slowed and they really had to go out, they could go.
The only downside is that like young children, the dogs get bored if they’re stuck inside. Rory will lie on the floor and stare at me. When I look at her, she barks at me as if to say, “HUMAN! AMUSE ME! NOW!” Sookie, meanwhile, has given up and decided to resort to her favourite activity- sleeping. When I decide that playing with Rory on the floor is the best way to amuse her, Sookie automatically sprints up to join in. She does NOT like to miss out on fun. Usually, all I have to do is grab a squeaky toy and play tug-of-war with Rory and bam! Sookie is suddenly there, wanting to play too. Eventually, I try to sneak away and let the two play tug-of-war but this doesn’t last long and before I know it, Rory is woofing at me again.
It’s a vicious cycle. Last year, I resorted to those toys that are supposed to occupy dogs for a while- you stuff treats inside and the dogs are supposed to figure out how to release the treats. Unfortunately, my dachshunds tag-team and figuring it out takes half the time it should because one holds it down and the other sticks her tongue inside, forcing the treats out.
I suppose I should be happy that I have smart dogs. The problem is that they’re not quite smart enough that I can sit them down with a book or jigsaw puzzle.
Still, while they might get bored when it’s rainy, their presence ensures that I never do. Besides, when they do come inside and they’ve dried themselves on the carpet, it is rather pleasant to have them snuggle up beside me even though I know it’s 50% love and 50% need to warm up/dry off by using me as a human towel.
Besides, I think I owe them for tricking them into going outside. I always feel a little guilty about that.
Happy Wednesday and have a great Thanksgiving holiday!
Showing posts with label Rainy Days. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Rainy Days. Show all posts
Tuesday, November 22, 2011
Tuesday, October 18, 2011
Beef Stew Kinds of Days
This is definitely a blah day as far as days go. It’s the type of day which has been grey and gloomy with the promise of rain but the rain hasn’t actually arrived yet. The weather keeps telling us it’s going to arrive but we’re in the nether area where the sun has abandoned us and the rain is yet to fall.
It’s really what I like to call a beef stew kind of day which is why I’m having beef stew for dinner.
Beef stew days are gloomy days where nothing really fabulous happens and it seems like everyone’s under their own little dark cloud. In our office, we’re having a wee bit of stress regarding finding candidates- we have the jobs but no one to fill them- so everyone’s a little bit tense. Also, it’s still close to the beginning of the week which means people are still in a bit of a post-weekend funk.
Beef stew days are days where the idea of going home, curling up on the couch with your cuddly object of choice (mine are my dachshund pups- Sookie and Rory but yours might be a cat, person or stuffed animal depending on your preference), putting on a favourite film or TV show and eating a big bowl of beef stew.
Unless, of course, you’re a vegetarian and you don’t eat beef so then you might want something like macaroni and cheese. Or tomato soup.
Unless of course you’re a vegan and you don’t eat dairy so you might choose to eat a bowl of watery-er tomato soup (because, let’s face it, it’s WAY better with real milk) or you might eat, uh, a bowl of…lentils? Rice? Sorry….I respect vegans for their dietary choices but I don’t think I’m mentally capable of being one and, honestly, have no desire to so thus, I’m not as familiar with vegan comfort foods as I could be.
Anyway, you get my point. Today is a comfort food type of day. I still prefer to call it a beef stew kind of day. You can substitute your comfort food of choice re: the above babbling.
I like beef stew. I didn’t when I was younger. In fact, I was quite opposed to all ‘gravy dinners’. Just ask my poor mother who worked hard to make sure I had something on the plate I liked. ‘Gravy dinners’ to me, as a child in England, were things like beef casserole, liver and bacon (which, by the way, is still a big ‘yuck’ to me now) and mince and gravy (I don’t think there’s an American equivalent of this but essentially it’s hamburger that is simmered in a thick beef gravy and served with either mashed potatoes (traditional) or noodles (I think that’s my family’s German twist on it). I hated mince. I liked the noodles. My grandmother would make her version but she’d make it a little different and I loved it. My mother may still hold a grudge about that.
Regardless, I did not like gravy dinners as a child. I preferred dinners with chips (french fries), baked potatoes or anything fried. Also, I preferred ‘non dinners’ such as beans on toast, bacon sandwiches or bread and cheese. It wasn’t that I refused to eat them because otherwise I’d have been hungry. I just would pick at them. Until we got a microwave, I’d have to eat mashed potatoes which I only recently have started liking, if you can believe that. I used to use the mashed potato in which to bury the unwanted components of my meal. I used to try to make it look like I simultaneously had eaten some of my mashed potato and also that I hadn’t buried pieces of liver in it. I know liver is good for you but the texture was and is vile to me. Also, it smelled funny. Then again, I used to think lasagna smelled like vomit and now I’m a huge fan of anything like that so…things do change as a child.
Anyhow, I don’t think my mashed potato reverse-excavations were really that successful. I’m pretty sure my mother knew that I was hiding my food. When we did get a microwave, my mother would kindly make me a baked potato instead of the mashed so I would, at least, have something on the dinner plate that I liked. Yes, I am from a generations where microwaves were actually once a new technology and yes, I know this makes me sound old.
I disliked gravy dinners a lot. Including beef stew which, really, was the same as beef casserole. It was just cooked in a different dish.
The, as I’ve mentioned before, somewhere in my late teens, my tastebuds changed. Either that or as a constantly-hungry college student/summer intern, I realized that eating something was better than being hungry and I started eating different things.
Now, I’m a foodie and I am far more open. I even eat gravy dinners now. I often make mincemeat and gravy with noodles on cooler days. That’s a good comfort food. I even make beef stew as I did for tonight. I serve it on my terms- i.e. no mashed potatoes with it. Instead, I prefer a nice piece of crusty bread. It’s actually quite healthy too because of the large amount of veggies in it. It was simmering in the crockpot all day, ready for me to come home to on this gloomy, grey day. It’s a nice, thick, bowl of comfort that’s easily made and left to its own devices as it simmers its way to readiness.
It’s the perfect antidote to a blah day where not much happens and even the rain is dithering on whether it wants to come down or not.
Yep, this has definitely been a beef stew sort of day.
Happy Wednesday!
It’s really what I like to call a beef stew kind of day which is why I’m having beef stew for dinner.
Beef stew days are gloomy days where nothing really fabulous happens and it seems like everyone’s under their own little dark cloud. In our office, we’re having a wee bit of stress regarding finding candidates- we have the jobs but no one to fill them- so everyone’s a little bit tense. Also, it’s still close to the beginning of the week which means people are still in a bit of a post-weekend funk.
Beef stew days are days where the idea of going home, curling up on the couch with your cuddly object of choice (mine are my dachshund pups- Sookie and Rory but yours might be a cat, person or stuffed animal depending on your preference), putting on a favourite film or TV show and eating a big bowl of beef stew.
Unless, of course, you’re a vegetarian and you don’t eat beef so then you might want something like macaroni and cheese. Or tomato soup.
Unless of course you’re a vegan and you don’t eat dairy so you might choose to eat a bowl of watery-er tomato soup (because, let’s face it, it’s WAY better with real milk) or you might eat, uh, a bowl of…lentils? Rice? Sorry….I respect vegans for their dietary choices but I don’t think I’m mentally capable of being one and, honestly, have no desire to so thus, I’m not as familiar with vegan comfort foods as I could be.
Anyway, you get my point. Today is a comfort food type of day. I still prefer to call it a beef stew kind of day. You can substitute your comfort food of choice re: the above babbling.
I like beef stew. I didn’t when I was younger. In fact, I was quite opposed to all ‘gravy dinners’. Just ask my poor mother who worked hard to make sure I had something on the plate I liked. ‘Gravy dinners’ to me, as a child in England, were things like beef casserole, liver and bacon (which, by the way, is still a big ‘yuck’ to me now) and mince and gravy (I don’t think there’s an American equivalent of this but essentially it’s hamburger that is simmered in a thick beef gravy and served with either mashed potatoes (traditional) or noodles (I think that’s my family’s German twist on it). I hated mince. I liked the noodles. My grandmother would make her version but she’d make it a little different and I loved it. My mother may still hold a grudge about that.
Regardless, I did not like gravy dinners as a child. I preferred dinners with chips (french fries), baked potatoes or anything fried. Also, I preferred ‘non dinners’ such as beans on toast, bacon sandwiches or bread and cheese. It wasn’t that I refused to eat them because otherwise I’d have been hungry. I just would pick at them. Until we got a microwave, I’d have to eat mashed potatoes which I only recently have started liking, if you can believe that. I used to use the mashed potato in which to bury the unwanted components of my meal. I used to try to make it look like I simultaneously had eaten some of my mashed potato and also that I hadn’t buried pieces of liver in it. I know liver is good for you but the texture was and is vile to me. Also, it smelled funny. Then again, I used to think lasagna smelled like vomit and now I’m a huge fan of anything like that so…things do change as a child.
Anyhow, I don’t think my mashed potato reverse-excavations were really that successful. I’m pretty sure my mother knew that I was hiding my food. When we did get a microwave, my mother would kindly make me a baked potato instead of the mashed so I would, at least, have something on the dinner plate that I liked. Yes, I am from a generations where microwaves were actually once a new technology and yes, I know this makes me sound old.
I disliked gravy dinners a lot. Including beef stew which, really, was the same as beef casserole. It was just cooked in a different dish.
The, as I’ve mentioned before, somewhere in my late teens, my tastebuds changed. Either that or as a constantly-hungry college student/summer intern, I realized that eating something was better than being hungry and I started eating different things.
Now, I’m a foodie and I am far more open. I even eat gravy dinners now. I often make mincemeat and gravy with noodles on cooler days. That’s a good comfort food. I even make beef stew as I did for tonight. I serve it on my terms- i.e. no mashed potatoes with it. Instead, I prefer a nice piece of crusty bread. It’s actually quite healthy too because of the large amount of veggies in it. It was simmering in the crockpot all day, ready for me to come home to on this gloomy, grey day. It’s a nice, thick, bowl of comfort that’s easily made and left to its own devices as it simmers its way to readiness.
It’s the perfect antidote to a blah day where not much happens and even the rain is dithering on whether it wants to come down or not.
Yep, this has definitely been a beef stew sort of day.
Happy Wednesday!
Sunday, May 15, 2011
Rainy Days and New Shoes...
I'm hoping I actually get to publish my blog today. I wrote one on Friday and tried in vain to publish it but, alas, my blogging site was down all day.
I'm trying again tonight. Hopefully, I'll have more luck.
It's one of the Sunday evenings where I can't believe that the weekend is over. It feels like it was just beginning on Friday when I came home, kicked off my shoes and enjoyed some down time with the dogs.
Now, I've finally finished cleaning my house, am finishing up the laundry and I feel like I've barely had time to do half the things on my mental list.
Ah well, that's the nature of weekends. Unfortunately, this was another rainy weekend. It's becoming a little frustrating that since spring began, we've had maybe one weekend where it didn't rain and that was right at the very beginning. It's a nuisance for us gardeners. I currently have a forest of weeds in what I was planning to make into my vegetable garden and it's simply too wet to get out there and do anything about it. In addition, I have a patio rug and furniture that I've yet to set out because we haven't had more than two non-rainy days together in weeks and I have an unused firepit that I bought on sale for $35 just sitting in the box.
In short, I'm completely sick of rain. I know I'm not the only one. My parents' have had rain too and my mother is starting to get frustrated that she can't get outside to work on the weeds and do some planting.
Still, each weekend I have a little seed of hope that this will be a nice one, this will be the weekend I will Get Things Done Outside.
I'd also settle for finally getting to lay my Tuscan vinyl tile in my redecorated room but, alas, I can't have rain for that either since it's the passageway to the pups getting outside and them walking in and out with wet and muddy feet on my attempts to tile would not work.
So, I wait and I shop. This weekend, at least, I shopped. I finally feel satisfied that I have a decent selection of summer sandals. The problem I found is that when I lived in California, I could wear casual footwear to work, even flip-flops. So, I built up a lovely collection of flip-flops. Then, I moved to Ohio and worked for a very casual software company where I could wear flip-flops. Now, it's my third summer back and I have a new job where I can't wear flip-flops. My sandal collection is quite sad. I had a go-to pair of sensible but stylish sandals that I bought at K-Mart over ten years ago. They finally died at the end of last summer with the straps coming detatched and the soles falling off. The only back-ups I had were a pair of sandals I bought from the Naturalizer store in a mall that went out of business over ten years ago. I think I bought the sandals a few years before that.
So, given that a pair of black sandals is a pretty necessary staple in a business-casual wardrobe, I went on the hunt. I also decided a pair of white ones would be useful as would a natural coloured pair that could go with either casual capris or a nice skirt.
I was successful in my shoe shopping. It took a while and after finding my black sandals, I was having trouble with the other pairs. When I lived in L.A., my roommate/good friend was always my shoe-buying companion. We both liked shoes. We both liked to shop. Whenever I was looking for something very specific, it was always my friend who spotted them in the muddle of shoes. So, when my luck was down on this shopping trip...I called her. Lo and behold, her shoe-karma works, even from 2000 miles away. Literally, within ten minutes, I had found the perfect shoes for my needs and they were all on sale. In the end, I managed to get four multi-useful pairs of shoes for a whopping $80. I was pleased.
There's nothing like a successful shoe-buying trip to make you feel like a rainy day isn't such a bad thing. As for the rest of my weekend, I spent it cleaning avidly and organizing. I finally decided it was time for a purge o' the lotions.
I think most women will know what I mean. Lotions and body sprays and other 'girlie' products are a universally acceptable gift. They're fun to have. They're fun to give. Thus, most of us, over the years, build up a collection. In my case, it's a mix of lotions and scents that were either gifts or I bought myself at Bath and Body works.
The thing is, over the years, they go a little nasty. Thus, there comes a time when you have to do a purging o' the lotions and go through your collection to see how long you've actually had some of them. In my case, many of them I've had for, uh, maybe ten years and, well, it was time.
Sometimes, something as simple as a good purge can make a rainy day feel productive and, in my case, that's exactly right.
Thus, I found ways to spend the rainy day. The pups have contentedly been working on the chew treats I had stored for them on rainy days. I find if Rory has a project, such as a filled chewy bone, it stops her little tantrums of boredom and keeps her busy.
Now, the rainy day is a rainy evening and Monday draws slowly closer. Maybe it was because last week, I had a long weekend but this time around, I'd be more than happy to take another Monday off. That would be a grand plan but, alas, I must go to work. Work pays the bills and helps me buy shoes on my rainy days off.
It's a vicious cycle but it's one I can live with because, well, I like being able to buy new shoes on rainy days.
Happy Monday and thanks, as always, for reading!
I'm trying again tonight. Hopefully, I'll have more luck.
It's one of the Sunday evenings where I can't believe that the weekend is over. It feels like it was just beginning on Friday when I came home, kicked off my shoes and enjoyed some down time with the dogs.
Now, I've finally finished cleaning my house, am finishing up the laundry and I feel like I've barely had time to do half the things on my mental list.
Ah well, that's the nature of weekends. Unfortunately, this was another rainy weekend. It's becoming a little frustrating that since spring began, we've had maybe one weekend where it didn't rain and that was right at the very beginning. It's a nuisance for us gardeners. I currently have a forest of weeds in what I was planning to make into my vegetable garden and it's simply too wet to get out there and do anything about it. In addition, I have a patio rug and furniture that I've yet to set out because we haven't had more than two non-rainy days together in weeks and I have an unused firepit that I bought on sale for $35 just sitting in the box.
In short, I'm completely sick of rain. I know I'm not the only one. My parents' have had rain too and my mother is starting to get frustrated that she can't get outside to work on the weeds and do some planting.
Still, each weekend I have a little seed of hope that this will be a nice one, this will be the weekend I will Get Things Done Outside.
I'd also settle for finally getting to lay my Tuscan vinyl tile in my redecorated room but, alas, I can't have rain for that either since it's the passageway to the pups getting outside and them walking in and out with wet and muddy feet on my attempts to tile would not work.
So, I wait and I shop. This weekend, at least, I shopped. I finally feel satisfied that I have a decent selection of summer sandals. The problem I found is that when I lived in California, I could wear casual footwear to work, even flip-flops. So, I built up a lovely collection of flip-flops. Then, I moved to Ohio and worked for a very casual software company where I could wear flip-flops. Now, it's my third summer back and I have a new job where I can't wear flip-flops. My sandal collection is quite sad. I had a go-to pair of sensible but stylish sandals that I bought at K-Mart over ten years ago. They finally died at the end of last summer with the straps coming detatched and the soles falling off. The only back-ups I had were a pair of sandals I bought from the Naturalizer store in a mall that went out of business over ten years ago. I think I bought the sandals a few years before that.
So, given that a pair of black sandals is a pretty necessary staple in a business-casual wardrobe, I went on the hunt. I also decided a pair of white ones would be useful as would a natural coloured pair that could go with either casual capris or a nice skirt.
I was successful in my shoe shopping. It took a while and after finding my black sandals, I was having trouble with the other pairs. When I lived in L.A., my roommate/good friend was always my shoe-buying companion. We both liked shoes. We both liked to shop. Whenever I was looking for something very specific, it was always my friend who spotted them in the muddle of shoes. So, when my luck was down on this shopping trip...I called her. Lo and behold, her shoe-karma works, even from 2000 miles away. Literally, within ten minutes, I had found the perfect shoes for my needs and they were all on sale. In the end, I managed to get four multi-useful pairs of shoes for a whopping $80. I was pleased.
There's nothing like a successful shoe-buying trip to make you feel like a rainy day isn't such a bad thing. As for the rest of my weekend, I spent it cleaning avidly and organizing. I finally decided it was time for a purge o' the lotions.
I think most women will know what I mean. Lotions and body sprays and other 'girlie' products are a universally acceptable gift. They're fun to have. They're fun to give. Thus, most of us, over the years, build up a collection. In my case, it's a mix of lotions and scents that were either gifts or I bought myself at Bath and Body works.
The thing is, over the years, they go a little nasty. Thus, there comes a time when you have to do a purging o' the lotions and go through your collection to see how long you've actually had some of them. In my case, many of them I've had for, uh, maybe ten years and, well, it was time.
Sometimes, something as simple as a good purge can make a rainy day feel productive and, in my case, that's exactly right.
Thus, I found ways to spend the rainy day. The pups have contentedly been working on the chew treats I had stored for them on rainy days. I find if Rory has a project, such as a filled chewy bone, it stops her little tantrums of boredom and keeps her busy.
Now, the rainy day is a rainy evening and Monday draws slowly closer. Maybe it was because last week, I had a long weekend but this time around, I'd be more than happy to take another Monday off. That would be a grand plan but, alas, I must go to work. Work pays the bills and helps me buy shoes on my rainy days off.
It's a vicious cycle but it's one I can live with because, well, I like being able to buy new shoes on rainy days.
Happy Monday and thanks, as always, for reading!
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
A Perfect Rainy Night...
It's a soggy night out there tonight. It's been raining non-stop since about 10 a.m. and the daytime feels like it never really arrived.
I don't mind one bit. I'm a fan of precipitation. I'd much rather it rained or even snowed than for it to just look gloomy and grey. It's been so dry this summer/fall that the rain is very welcome. It's a perfect rainy day too. I have dinner cooking in the crock pot and the house is warm and cosy.
The puppies don't like it much, of course. They go out, get soaked and then proceed to do weird, wild dives on the carpet, on the couch, on ever visible surface in an attempt to dry themselves off. If I was a neat freak, this might be a problem but it's just water and, well, they're puppies. I can't exactly make them sit still.
It's the perfect night for cuddling up and enjoying the sound of the rain. I'm trying to be good this week and get some writing done. I've been in a slump lately. I entered The Reluctant Demon in the Writer's Digest Self Published awards and I didn't even get an honourable mention. I confess, I've been a bit down about that. The sales have been going pretty well considering I haven't done any publicity. I've sold 40 electronic copies in the past month. This may seem small but that's not bad going for an indie writer who hasn't done any marketing.
It just bothers me that I'm bothered so much about some stupid awards. It shouldn't matter. It just does.
Still, I've decided it's not worth being so sad/annoyed about that I should let it stop me from writing. So this week, I've decided that I'm going to try to finish my novel by the end of November. I'm ready to move on. It's fun to write the adventures of someone in Hell but I'd also like to write other things too.
So, tonight will be a writing night. I hope the pups don't mind too much. Their usual response to my writing is to ignore me while they play together and then when they're ready to curl up on the couch for the evening, they yip at me to come and join them. Sometimes, they'll come in and lie in the doorway, staring at me with those big sad eyes. It's easy to want to give in to eyes like that. Sometimes I do, sometimes I don't. If I ignore them for long enough, they trot off, heads down and sit on the couch all alone until I join them.
This time of year is very strange because the days suddenly feel so much shorter. I'm sure the puppies are still bewildered by the change that Daylight Savings Time has brought about. It's dark so early now and they miss out of the daylight because that's when I have to go to work and they go in their crate. I'm experimenting with leaving them out for half a day to see if they can be trusted without supervision. I work a little later now than I used to and if I have to run errands after work, I feel cruel for keeping them crated when it's getting dark. I'm hoping they adjust to being freed from their crate for part of the day so that I can have a little more freedom myself.
On nights like this though, there's nothing more freeing than being home, in your pajamas, listening to the rain fall as the smell of comfort food perfumes the air with a puppy cuddled up on each side of me.
I've missed the rain. I'm glad it's back.
Happy Wednesday.
I don't mind one bit. I'm a fan of precipitation. I'd much rather it rained or even snowed than for it to just look gloomy and grey. It's been so dry this summer/fall that the rain is very welcome. It's a perfect rainy day too. I have dinner cooking in the crock pot and the house is warm and cosy.
The puppies don't like it much, of course. They go out, get soaked and then proceed to do weird, wild dives on the carpet, on the couch, on ever visible surface in an attempt to dry themselves off. If I was a neat freak, this might be a problem but it's just water and, well, they're puppies. I can't exactly make them sit still.
It's the perfect night for cuddling up and enjoying the sound of the rain. I'm trying to be good this week and get some writing done. I've been in a slump lately. I entered The Reluctant Demon in the Writer's Digest Self Published awards and I didn't even get an honourable mention. I confess, I've been a bit down about that. The sales have been going pretty well considering I haven't done any publicity. I've sold 40 electronic copies in the past month. This may seem small but that's not bad going for an indie writer who hasn't done any marketing.
It just bothers me that I'm bothered so much about some stupid awards. It shouldn't matter. It just does.
Still, I've decided it's not worth being so sad/annoyed about that I should let it stop me from writing. So this week, I've decided that I'm going to try to finish my novel by the end of November. I'm ready to move on. It's fun to write the adventures of someone in Hell but I'd also like to write other things too.
So, tonight will be a writing night. I hope the pups don't mind too much. Their usual response to my writing is to ignore me while they play together and then when they're ready to curl up on the couch for the evening, they yip at me to come and join them. Sometimes, they'll come in and lie in the doorway, staring at me with those big sad eyes. It's easy to want to give in to eyes like that. Sometimes I do, sometimes I don't. If I ignore them for long enough, they trot off, heads down and sit on the couch all alone until I join them.
This time of year is very strange because the days suddenly feel so much shorter. I'm sure the puppies are still bewildered by the change that Daylight Savings Time has brought about. It's dark so early now and they miss out of the daylight because that's when I have to go to work and they go in their crate. I'm experimenting with leaving them out for half a day to see if they can be trusted without supervision. I work a little later now than I used to and if I have to run errands after work, I feel cruel for keeping them crated when it's getting dark. I'm hoping they adjust to being freed from their crate for part of the day so that I can have a little more freedom myself.
On nights like this though, there's nothing more freeing than being home, in your pajamas, listening to the rain fall as the smell of comfort food perfumes the air with a puppy cuddled up on each side of me.
I've missed the rain. I'm glad it's back.
Happy Wednesday.
Thursday, May 14, 2009
The Gift of a Rainy Day
Before I write today's blog, I'd like to thank Nathan Bransford for responding to yesterday's blog about "Writing as Identity". It's always nice to know that people are reading the words you write and I do actually agree with him after rereading my blog: Our opinions are not so different after all, just different vantage points, I suppose.
Moving on. It's a really rainy day out there today. It's been thunderstorming on and off since yesterday. It's a very Midwestern spring day. Even down here in my basement cubicle, I can hear the heavy rain beating down and making me glad to be inside. It's supposed to be like this for the next few days.
I love days like this. I think it harkens back to the fact that I was born and raised in the UK where rain happens as often as it's sunny. When I moved to Indiana, it also rained a lot. Thus, when I moved to Los Angeles and I had too many ham sandwich days thatI realized how much I did enjoy rain. Rainy days like this are the best because if you look at the weather on Google, it shows rain for the next few days. This means it will keep raining and I won't be disappointed because the sun will come out.
That probably sounds a little strange. Imagine that. What I mean is that when it's a rainy day, I like the idea of a rainy night in which I can go home from work, make something comforting and rainy-dayesque for dinner and then curl up with a book or good TV show, listening to the rain beat down. Better yet, it's good writing weather which means I can sit at my PC and hear the rain pouring down and mixing with the music I have playing. There's nothing more disappointing than planning an evening like that and then, when you get home, the rain has stopped and the sun is trying to come out from behind the clouds, thin and weedy but still managing to brighten up the world and stop the rainy day.
I don't hate evenings like that. Sometimes after a couple of rainy days, they're rather nice. In those cases the sun isn't greedily trying to steal the thunder from the rainy day but, instead, is making a guest appearance to promote the sunny day that lies ahead tomorrow. It's welcome then. We can't have all rainy days.
I think today I'm safe. I think the rain will continue and I'll be able to enjoy it through at least the next couple of days. I'm hoping to squeeze in a little writing tonight. Of course, given my penchant for writing darker stuff when it rains, perhaps I should wait. I'm trying to write something a little happier. Well...maybe not happier but a little less "world of the dead" like Sleep or less gritty like St. Jimmy or even less brother vs. brother like Rainlight.
That's the thing. I'd love to come up with something nice and safe, like chastely brooding vampires who sparkle in the sunlight. The problem is I like the other kind of vampires better, the ones who drink human blood, hide in dark alleyways and always have a witty comeback. I like the sensual dark side of traditional vampire, rather than the current popular version.
I suppose I should stick with what I enjoy. Besides, I'm crap at trying to keep things on a happy, uncomplicated path. I try that and then I ask myself, "ooh, what if..." and then the nice sunny path takes a detour in the dark shadowy woods and it begins to rain and...
...You get the picture. Hence the fact I enjoy the rain as much as I enjoy sun. I'm a firm believer in needing the shadows to emphasize the light and vice versa.
Thus, I shall enjoy this lovely rain day, letting myself get wet as I go home so I can shower and throw on my lazy clothes and curl up with a hot cup of tea. There's nothing better sometimes. It's a renewing sort of day, the world around me closing down for a while so that when the sun comes out, it knows it's appreciated.
Happy Thursday.
Thus, I shall enjoy this lovely rain day, letting myself get wet as I go home so I can shower and throw on my lazy clothes and curl up with a hot cup of tea. There's nothing better sometimes. It's a renewing sort of day, the world around me closing down for a while so that when the sun comes out, it knows it's appreciated.
Happy Thursday.
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