Accidental Early Starts...DirecTV and Other Weekendness

This has been another of those weekends that has just flown by. It was one where I had few plans other than to stay home on Saturday morning and wait for the DirecTV man to come. Since it was time to renew my contract, I called them up to cancel with a secret hope they'd lure me to stay by offering me some free goodies. Since I bought an HDTV after I'd subscribed to my original service, I was hoping for a free HDTV upgrade. Lo and behold, my threat of leaving their service guaranteed me a free HDTV receiver and free service for 24 months.

Thus, that was my plan for Saturday morning- to stay home and wait for Mr. DirecTV to come. My window of time was 8 a.m. to 12 p.m. I was pretty sure they wouldn't be there at 8 a.m. but, just in case, I planned on getting up by 7:30 a.m. to be ready. Well, that was a fine idea. I set my alarm for 7 a.m. so I could doze for 30 minutes. When it did go off at 7 a.m., I changed the alarm so it'd go off in another 30 minutes. At least I thought I had.

I dozed. Then my phone rang. It was an automated message from DirecTV reminding me that I had someone coming at 8 a.m. I glanced at the clock- it was almost 8:15 a.m.! I flew out of bed and got dressed quickly. I didn't fancy the DirecTV man coming while I was still in my pajamas.

I let the pups out and ran around and cleared up. Then, finally, I sat down. I glanced at the clock in my living room. I blinked. It appeared to say it was not quite eight a.m.

Well, it turned out that Silly Captain Monkeypants had accidentally adjusted the time on her clock rather than the alarm and my dozing which I thought had lasted an hour had in actuality only been about five minutes of dozing. Yes, i had been up since 7:10 a.m.

Mr. DirecTV came at 9:30 a.m. He had a bit of trouble with my old dish. Apparently there was a hornet's nest up there and he was deathly allergic so he didn't want to take it away like he was supposed to. Instead, he put a new dish up and left the old one so now I have two dishes. I think when the weather cools and the wasps die off, I may have them come and remove it just because I really don't want two dishes.

The installation of HDTV took quite a while. By the time he left, I was quite glad. He was a nice enough technician but he had been working outside in the heat and he was a little stinky. Also, he put those plastic footie things over his shoes so he didn't mess up my carpet and he ended up wearing right through the plastic so his shoes were only covered at the top. I didn't care but i thought it was a little pointless wearing the footie things. Also, the dogs were penned up in the kitchen/Tuscan room area and they don't like strangers in the house. Sookie likes to have a good woof. I call it her "STRANGER DANGER" bark.

I finally freed the dogs around noon. I immediately headed off to a local farmer's market. I'd made the mistake of spending the morning reading Bon Appetit and it had a ton of recipes for fresh veggies, particularly tomatoes so I really, really wanted some fresh tomatoes.

In the end, my Saturday ended up flying by and it was Sunday. Today, I spent most of the day getting "Emmy Goes to Hell" ready to be published as an e-book. It's a lot of work because you have to be very, very specific regarding format. The format for e-books is pretty much the complete opposite of print books so it's all rather tedious.

I perservered and the book is in the final approval status by my publisher. Once it gets approved, Emmy will be on sale for the low price of $2.99 on every electronic device out there. It's also available from Amazon as a hard copy, just in case you don't own a Kindle, Nook, etc. And yes, that was another shameless plug.

All in all, it's been a good weekend so far. The girls and I are currently enjoying a thunderstorm that brought some wonderful, much-needed rain. It's been pouring for a while and I can already see that my parched garden is drinking it up and appreciating every drop. Even when you water with a hose, it's never the same as organic rain. I expect my vegetables to grow a little more quickly for a while.

I love weekends like this where I have no real plans. I only really had the plan of waiting for DirecTV and possibly seeing "Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 2" again. I didn't end up seeing Harry but that was intentional. I do want to see it again quite badly but I decided that if I wait another week, I'll appreciate more again because it won't be quite so fresh.

For the rest of the weekend, I plan of spending some time with the neglected pups. They hate it when I sit at my desktop and work because I'm ignoring them and despite her best efforts, Sookie is just not a lapdog. I love having her on my lap but the length of a dachshund is not really conducive to comfort or convenience while trying to simutaneously type on a keyboard.

I also plan to go outside in a few minutes and spend a little time dancing in the rain because it's been so long since it rained and it's just so pleasant to feel those drops falling down and cooling everything down. I think that sounds like a lovely way to wind up a weekend, don't you?

Thanks, as always for reading. I hope you had a great weekend. Happy Monday!

Monogamous Reading and Writing

I haven’t really blogged much about writing lately which is slightly ironic since the original purpose of my blog was to talk about writing.

The truth is, I haven’t actually been writing much lately. This is a combination of wanting to take a break. I wrote ten novels in 8 years and I felt like it’d be nice to take some time off. So I did.

Also, I finished my last novel in January and it’s taken a while to deal with that. Since I published The Reluctant Demon, I’ve had several people tell me that it wasn’t edited as well as it could have been and there were typos in it. This is slightly embarrassing, I admit. However, since I just found a couple of typos in the book I’m reading, A Storm of Swords by George R.R. Martin that’s currently in the top ten best selling books list at the moment, I don’t feel so bad.

However, with my sequel to The Reluctant Demon, I wanted to take more time to edit and make sure it was as polished as it could have been. This is one of my excuses for not having written much lately.

Editing takes time. I’m not a fan of it. My normal process is to finish a book, go back and edit and then leave it for a few weeks/months and then edit again. It’s hard to edit something when you’ve been staring at it. It’s also hard to edit something you know so well. I find that my eyes tend to miss a lot of typos or punctuation mistakes.

This time, I decided to have others help me with the editing. I enlisted the aid of a good friend who is a ‘grammar’ queen. She was very helpful but I did discover when I got the edited manuscript back that while she had found a lot of the typos and given me a lot of constructive criticism, she’d also missed quite a few errors. My assumption is that she got sidetracked by the story and didn’t catch everything.

I was still grateful because she found a lot more stuff than I had. Still, it meant I had to go through and re-edit. It was easier this time since I hadn’t read the book in a few months. I found a lot of typos, punctuation errors and even some continuity problems.

Still, I didn’t think it was quite ready so I decided to run it through a final filter, my friend Saz. She is one of those very organized writers who is excellent at punctuation and detail. I sent her the book. She was kind enough to read it and let me know of other errors/typos she’d found.

When I got it back, I made the changes and, finally, it felt like it was done. This whole process pretty much took from January through June.

During this time, I thought about writing something new. I’ve been percolating an idea in my head but I seriously don’t feel like it’s ready to write yet. Also, the idea of writing something while trying to get Emmy ready to publish just didn’t seem like a good idea. I’m one of those people who simply can only read one book at once. By that, I don’t mean that I’m holding a book in each hand and trying to read both books at the same time. I mean that if I’m reading one book, I don’t like putting it down and picking up something else until I’ve finished the first book.

I just don’t like to do it. I am a decidedly monogamous reader and if I read two books simultaneously, it feels almost like I’m ‘cheating’ on the other book. Weird, I know, but it’s true. Also, I like sitting down and getting absorbed in the fictional world behind the pages and if I’m reading a different book, I have to jump between worlds. I like to read one, get absorbed into that world until I’m done and then move on.

You get the idea. This is why I have the same mentality when it comes to writing. I can’t write two books at the same time. I need to focus my energy and passion on one book and then move on. I can sometimes work on other things like short stories but then again, I’m ok with reading a magazine and a book at the same time. They’re like apples and oranges.

So, since I intend to publish Emmy Goes to Hell, I didn’t feel comfortable starting something new until Emmy was off my plate and completely done.

Well, Emmy is finally done. It should be up for sale on Amazon.com in the next week as well as through online retailers. The last step is to get it up for e-readers like the Kindle and Nook. This is not as easy as it sounds as it involves rather a lot of formatting changes in order to be converted into the many and varied formats for each type of e-reader.

I’ll be glad to be done with Emmy. It was fun to write but I’m ready for something new and different. Once the e-reader version is available, I’ll finally be able to put the book aside and move on. It’s taken a while but I’m pleased with the result. It’ll be nice to get back to actual writing again rather than the nitty gritty of publishing. Of course, there’s the marketing but…well….that’s not the same. That’s not cheating on my new book.

So, aside from this being a blog about writing, it’s a shameless plug for Emmy Goes to Hell. Please buy my book. It’s quite funny, quite dark and, as always, just wee bit twisted. I like it more than The Reluctant Demon because there’s a little more to it. Neither book is ever going to be my magnum opus but I think they’re fun reads.

Now it’s done, I can move on and write something new. I’m not quite sure what that will be but it probably won’t involve demons this time around. I’ll keep you posted.

Thanks, as always for reading!

Happy Thursday!

To Sleep...Perchance to Dream

Have you ever had a dream that’s so vivid and clear that, when you wake up, you’re disorientated for a brief moment and find yourself wondering which is the real world?

I’m sure you have. I’m sure, at some point, everyone has a dream like this. After all, if you watch the movie “Inception,” that’s pretty much the entire premise.

It’s amazing the landscapes our slumbering minds can create. We get to go places in our dreams that we’d never be able to go in reality. Reality is twisted and distorted and everything is possible.

I had one of those dreams last night. I won’t bore you with the details because our dreams are never as exciting to others as they are to us. I think it’s because while we’re dreaming, we feel like it’s real and, when we awaken, we still have the sense that something happened, even if it was just the makings of our subconscious mind.

The hard part about dreams is that they slip away from us. We can try to hold on to them but, over time, though we remember the main component of what happened, we don’t remember the tiny details that made it so vivid that we woke up feeling strangely exhilarated and as if we’d actually experienced them.

I try to write down dreams like this. I do it as soon as I can after waking so I can remember as much as I possibly can before it fades away, a distant whisper of something we dreamed but never as alive as it was upon waking.

The interesting thing is to go back and read about those dreams a few years later. I actually had a dream journal where I tried to capture the essence of the most vivid of my dreams. I read it recently and rereading them, I’m often amazed at the things my sleeping brain devised. I might remember having the dream but reading the details amazes me.

The one I had last night was like that. To some people, it would be alarming. To me, it was fascinating. Essentially (and without the too boring details), it involved an apocalypse, a Beast, me selling my soul to Satan in order to become a powerful demon who was immortal.

The thing I remember most is the detail of the dream. Even now, I can pinpoint the moment in the dream where I made the choice to sell my soul. It sounds weird and twisted but I’m fascinated that my subconscious was able to make it so realistic and actual. There was panic in the dream, mass chaos and lots of fear. Then there was an otherworldliness to the Hell my brain created and the exhilaration of feeling power and control.

(Note to people who know me: I promise I’m not contemplating a change in faith or becoming a satan worshipper. My brain is just a bit odd when I sleep. And when I’m awake. But that’s another story).

Granted, if you’re familiar with my book, The Reluctant Demon, demons and Hell aren’t exactly a stretch of my imagination. Since I just finished the sequel, Emmy Goes To Hell, it’s not even a surprise that I can visualize Hell since that’s entirely what composes the framework of that book.

However, the Hell of my subconscious was far scarier and, dare I say it, than the Hell my sleeping brain concocted. The demon I became was nothing like the demons I made up in my book. There were processes in my dream Hell that were surprisingly logical: I had to get baptized into the name of Satan, eat some form of offal and have dinner with Satan himself.

Naturally, as a writer, I’m quite fascinated. It’s like my brain wanted to write a new story, something darker and creepier than the comedic effort I just composed. If I had to analyze it, it’s probably due to the fact that I wrote my demon books to try something lighter and new but I’ve missed the dark and twistier tone I usually use. This was my brain’s attempt to reconcile what I actually did with what I subconsciously wanted to do.

This is not to say I don’t like the books I wrote. I do. I think they inject a little darkness into the chick-lit genre while still keeping a somewhat light tone. My heroine has trials and tribulations but she’s intrepid and determined and is never really in any danger. It would be a different book if she didn’t make it out of Hell but got stuck there forever. It definitely wouldn’t be a romantic comedy, would it?

It’s just that, well, danger is exciting, isn’t it? It’s thrilling and it makes things interesting as long as it ends well.

I think my next book needs to have a little more danger and darkness. I think my dream was my mind’s way of reminding me that while it’s fun to create fluffier things, what I really enjoy is a dark and twisty tale where my heart pounds a little and I never quite know if my hero/heroine will make it out intact.

Whatever the reason, I have to admit, I was disappointed to wake up this morning, even if it was to a puppy frantically trying to wake me up so I’d let her go outside to do her business. I felt a strange let down because I would never find out the end of my dream-tale. Dreams are not like DVR’s where you can resume the spot in the TV show where you left off and they’re not like books where you can bookmark a page and jump right back into the story.

Instead, dreams are an amazing place that’s always different and you never, ever know where you’ll end up when you lay down to sleep.

You just go along for the ride.

Happy Friday!

A Squirrel in a Bucket....

This has been one of those weekends that has gone by quickly because it's just been busy. It's the kind of busy that's good though- where I get things done but still get to relax. Not all of it has been planned busyness. Sometimes that just...happens.

Saturday, for example, I decided that I'd have a relaxing morning with the puppies. I had been woken up early by Wife of Dog Whisperer yelling at her dog. I'm talking 5 a.m.-early. When we got up around 8 a.m., I let the puppies out. Then I saw Wife of Dog Whisperer running around outside in her pink pajamas. Her very pink, large pajamas. It was a cold morning and I couldn't figure out why she was running around with no shoes and coat on. I ended up getting dressed and investigating but I couldn't figure it out. It was peculiar.

I read for a while. I've been plodding through A.S. Byatt's The Children's Book. I didn't like it very much when I started but it's one of those books you feel compelled to finish to see if anything would happen. Well, it took forever and I can safely say that not much really happened at all. Instead, there were pages and pages of minute detail about everything. There were politics. There was social commentary. Yet...not much happened. I was hoping I'd start to care about the characters but what ended up happening is I couldn't remember who was who and all the children just blurred together. Still, I was determined to finish it.

I didn't finish it on Saturday. Instead, I decided to go and see "Paranormal Activity 2" since the first one had inspired The Reluctant Demon and I thought I might get some more ideas. It wasn't a bad movie, if you liked the first one. It was clever how it tied in with the original. However, it was a lot less scary because it was sloppy. For example, most of the initial 'spookiness' is captured through views from individual cameras all over the house. It was very distracting that, night after night, the kitchen camera managed to capture the exact same view- that of the kitchen island with a cup on it and a bowl of apples. Some days, there were bananas in the apple bowl. Other days, there weren't any apples. Yet, every night, there were apples, no bananas and the same cup. I think they were reusing the same image. It may not seem like much but when you're watching a film that is hoping to shock you with sudden, unpredictable things, small details like that mug are distracting. Also, when one of the characters is dragged away by the demon, she's bitten by it too. I'm sorry but even though I'm sure it's terrifying to have a demon in your house that's dragging you down the stairs, for a demon, that was a pretty wimpy bite. I mean, come on- can't the demon have pointy teeth that ripped through flesh or something instead of a human-like bite mark?

I'm overthinking this. This is why I make up silly paranormal romantic comedies about demons rather than try to be scary because it's easy to overthink things and then the scariness vanishes.

Anyway, I digress. So I came home from the movie and let the puppies out. Then they puppies began to bark. Then they began to whine. It's the type of whining they do when there's a bunny or squirrel almost within reach and they can just about taste it. I went out to investigate. I looked around and saw nothing. Then I realized that it wasn't in the yard next door but there was a squirrel laying under Possibly-Joe's fence and it was only two feet away from the pups. Fortunately, there was a fence between it and my puppies but they wanted it and they wanted it bad. They wanted it so badly that Rory literally attempted to chew through the chainlink fence to get to it. I'm just happy she has normal teeth and not super-strong steel teeth or something.

Then, as I was contemplating whether the squirrel was stuck or it was just sitting there, Wife of Dog Whisperer came out to inform me that the squirrel had fallen from a tree and her dogs had almost got it so she had put it on a rake and put it over the fence. Unfortunately, it had attempted to crawl back into the yard. The result was it being stuck under Possibly-Joe's fence within smelling range of two dachshunds. Wife of Dog Whisperer shrugged and said there wasn't much we could do. I, however, disagreed. I mean, the poor rodent was clearly dying. I did not want a dying squirrel anywhere close to the puppies because it was torture for them. They REALLY want a squirrel. I also didn't fancy a dead squirrel there either because...well....ew!

So, I took it upon myself to solve the problem. I shut the pups indoors and went about using a shovel, a bucket and a rake handle. This was no easy feet. The chain link fence is four-feet high. The squirrel was on the other side of it. I managed to get it out from where it seemed to be trapped but getting it onto the shovel was no easy feat. Fortunately, the squirrel still seemed to have a will to live and it helped me out by using it's claws to cling to the shovel. Thus, I hefted it and the shovel over the fence and gently attempted to drop the squirrel in the bucket. The squirrels will to live remained and it would NOT let go of the shovel. I literally had to ply its claws off to let it go.

Thus I had a squirrel in a bucket. It was still alive. I didn't know what to do with it. Finally, I decided that since I was taking the puppies over to the woods for a walk anyway, taking a squirrel in a bucket would be a good idea. Thus, I ended up depositing the poor squirrel- which was still alive- in the woods on a pile of leaves. I have no doubt it was going to die but at least it could die somewhere comfortable.

The rest of Saturday was not quite so exciting though I got my pumpkin carved. Sunday was also pretty quiet although I got a nice phone call from an old friend inviting me to an 'old timer's reunion' at one of my old workplaces.

Am I an old-timer??? I shudder at the thought. Still, she's a good friend and it might be fun to see some of my old coworkers since it was a job at a hospital that I actually liked.

The only other unplanned excitement was that the doorbell rang this evening. This may not seem exciting but my doorbell only rings when I hit the button. The puppies went nuts. Turns out it was Dog Whisperer himself accompanied by Son of Dog Whisperer. He's a boy scout now. Son of Dog Whisperer, I mean...not Dog Whisperer. Dog Whisperer is too old to be a boy scout. Anyway, he's selling popcorn. I bought some because I'm one of those people who is horribly crippled by guilt if I'm directly asked by a child selling cookies, magazines, popcorn or wrapping paper and I say no. So I don't say no. I didn't say no this time. Now I'm going to have an enourmous tub of popping corn that cost me $10. It's a good cause. I just don't eat that much popcorn. I may have to share.

So, that's been our rather odd weekend. It hasn't been bad. The only thing I feel bad about really is that I've been promising Sookie and Rory that one day, they'd have their very own squirrel. I even went looking for trees to plant last weekend so they could have their very own squirrel tree. Then, when I had the opportunity to give them one, I didn't. Instead, I put it in a bucket and let it go in the woods. I know they knew what i was doing and they were not happy with me.

Oh well. I'm sure there'll be other squirrels. Just not in a bucket...I hope.

Happy Monday

No Good Crying Over Spilled Tea....

There are days that are just destined to be days where you really should either say, "do over!" or you should just stay in bed, under the covers.

I know I seem to say something of this sort fairly frequently but I'm not talking about days where it's hard to get out of the cosy cocoon of a warm bed or days where work just kicks you when you're down. I'm talking about the sort of days where you really just shouldn't touch anything.

My day began fine until I left the house. I had my tea in my travel mug. It was raining. It was the sort of rain that was heavy in spots, light in others. As I pulled out on the main road from my street and started to drive, someone pulled out of a parking lot without looking. I had to brake quite hard to avoid him. Fortunately, having just had my brakes fixed, I was able to stop with no repercussions.

When I got to work, I discovered that our alarm was down. I couldn't get in. Usually I'm the first one in the office but today, I recognized the truck of our technical support person who's also in charge of the alarms. I knocked on the door to no avail. It was raining. I finally decided to drive around to the front of the building to see if that was open.

This may seem lazy but I'd worn heels today since we had visitors in the building. Also, it was raining hard and I didn't feel like getting my heels stuck in mud while I got rather wet.

Just as I was about to pull out of the parking lot to get to the front of the building, our technical support person came and opened the door, propping it open. Groaning, I backed up and re-parked in the spot I'd abandoned. As I got out of my car, my tea mug lid came loose and spilled spicy black chai all down my very white shirt. I groaned. When I got inside, I tried to scrub it but a rather ugly brown splotch remained.

My morning passed in a tangled web of muddle. Everything I tried to test to make sure it was working broke. This is good because I'm doing my job but when you end up breaking everything you're supposed to test and things are getting fixed, you end up chasing your tail and tripping over your legs.

I finally went to lunch. It wasn't until I got inside my house, I realized my wristlet was missing. My wristlet is a cross between a wallet and a purse and it holds every bit of valuable stuff I have as in driver's license debit/credit cards, green card, etc. I searched my car, nothing. I searched the route I'd taken when I'd come in. Nothing.

I hoped beyond hope in my haze of muddle, I'd just left it at work. When I got to the office I searched for it. Nothing. I began to worry. My coworker said she'd seen me leave with it but she also thought one of my other coworkers may have had it when she'd come looking for me over lunch. I went to her office. She wasn't there and her office-mate didn't think she'd picked it up.

Thanks to the aid of two of my favourite coworkers, we searched my car and still didn't find it. I was trying not to panic. In the end, I decided the only thing to do to settle my mind was to go back home and search again.

I rushed home. I finally found it. Today was trash day. The wrist strap had come undone as I'd been hoisting my rubbish bins over the fence after they'd been emptied. It was lying on the ground. Since it was brown, it blended in with the dirty concrete. My heart rushed to my mouth as relief flooded in.

I got back to work. The afternoon should have passed well after a successful outcome of that near-scare but I have to confess, I was in a funk.

I'd been in a funk all day. It's all because I published my book in every electronic reader format possible and am selling it for $1.99. So far, no one's bought it. I know I just need to be more patient but even with my Viva La Revolution of Self Publishing! attitude, it's sometimes a little depressing how hard I have to work to get people to buy my book.

And I'm not even talking about the general public. I'm talking about friends and people I know. My closest friends have bought it because they're my closest friends and that's what they do. Yet when I step back, I admit, I get a little depressed that I haven't been able to persuade more than a mere fraction of my facebook 'friends' to buy it.

I know. I'm an idealist. I can't help but think that if it was a reverse situation and someone I knew had published a book, I'd buy it, just to help out. To say, "I know him/her!" It's the same reason I watch some bad movies or bad TV: Because some of the actors in the shows/movies are people I went to school with and it's nice to see them doing well with their life, even if the movies/TV shows aren't particularly good.

In my funk, I tend to over analyze. I get a little disappointed sometimes. When I moved out to L.A. nine years ago, I did so with the promise from a former boss/friend that her sister who was involved in Hollywood would help me with my screenwriting career. I moved out there, tried to contact my bosses sister and...nothing. I contacted my boss and after several attempts I realized that it was an empty promise. I tried not to take it personally but it was hard.

Nowadays, it's different. I have a couple of friends who know people in the publishing industry or they do PR but for whatever reason, they can't help me. I know they have their reasons but on days like this, I start to feel sorry for myself and wonder why all the writing books that talk about the importance of networking don't tell you that the majority of people with whom you try to network can't or won't help out.

It's one of the reasons I'm so jaded at times. My closest brush with getting somewhere was having a class with a Hollywood producer when I first moved to L.A. He liked the idea for my script and gave me ideas on how to fix it. I did and, as he requested, I queried his company with my script. I never heard another word.

It's been like that a few times in my life. It's one of the reasons I like the power of self-publishing. It's not about getting your work published because it's not fit for a real publisher as I still keep reading online, it's about no one else giving you a chance so you make your own chances. You have to "create your own luck," as Jack from Titanic says in the movie.

But sometimes, particularly days like this, I feel beaten down by 'creating my own luck.' I just want things to be easy when, in actuality, it's not supposed to be easy.

And yet if I just tipped the glass the other way, my day could be seen from a whole other point of view: My brakes were fixed, therefore I didn't get hit. I found my wallet. My tea didn't ruin my shirt. I still have a book published, even if it's not getting read by as many people as I'd like.

I suppose it's all about perspective. If I take a step back and realize some of the challenges that my friends are facing every day: sick parents, rheumatoid arthritis, sick spouses, no jobs...I really do feel guilty for whining. In the grand scheme of things, things can always, always be worse.

But on days like this, they feel like that could also be just a little bit better.

Still, tomorrow is another day and it's a Friday at that. That's cause for celebration in itself.

Happy Friday!

Crippled by a Thunderstorm

It was a really, really hot day today. I know I said that yesterday but today had to have been the hottest day we've had all summer. It was supposedly 96 degrees but felt like 112 degrees with the humidity. I can attest to the fact that there was definitely some nasty humidity out there.

We also had what our local weathermen like to call, a "pop up thunderstorm." This means that the sun suddenly goes away, the clouds roll in, the wind picks up and the thunder starts to rumble. Today's storm lasted about 15 minutes. It was long enough to take the power out at work.

Being that we're a software company and most our of products are web-based, there's not a whole lot we can do when the power goes out. Most people in our area have laptops. I do not. This usually means that I have to twiddle my thumbs while everyone who has a battery backup can keep working.

That didn't happen today since the internet was down and so were the phones. It essentially translated into about an hour of twiddling our thumbs until my boss decided it was close enough to the end of the day that we should just leave, especially since it didn't look like our power company was going to get to us in time.

Normally, this would be a moment of, "yay! I get to go home early." Unfortunately, in my case, he made the decision at the time I normally leave for the day so it wasn't so much a reward in my case as the end of a normal working day.

Still, there's something nice about sitting in the semi-darkness with your coworkers with nothing to do. It would have been darker if our emergency lights hadn't kicked on but it was still pretty dark in our area. We all ended up sitting around chatting because there wasn't much else to do. Without our computers, we're slightly crippled.

Of course, while we were sitting around, waiting for the power to come back on, we did realize something. The power was out which meant our phones were off. This may not seem like a realization as much as a "duh!" moment but it really was. You see, we've recently been practicing our office 'emergency drills.' In our case, this means a fire and a tornado drill. For the fire, we meet outside, the tornado, we head to the basement.

When we have a real tornado, the policy is that our HR manager will inform everyone that we all have to get to safety over our intercom system.

Our intercom system is our telephones.

When a tornado comes through, chances are, the power won't work. Thus, our phones won't work. The only way we'd know if there was going to be a tornado is if our HR manager ran around yelling and we all managed to hear her.

Of course, this is also in addition to the fact that the basement to which we must flee in refuge requires a key to get into it. We still only have one key for the basement and it's still on the HR Manager's key chain.

I think the conclusion we all came to was that if there's a tornado, we really hope we're not in the office. Otherwise, we might be in trouble.

Still, all in all, the power outage made things fun. I found it amusing that enough people in the office have read my book that my demon gets blamed for things like power outages. If you don't know what I'm talking about, read my book. It's now available in most electronic formats, including the iPad. You can also order a hardcopy through Amazon or through my website.

Yes, that's a shameless plug.

The best part of the whole thing was that even though my neighbourhood is close to the office, we still had power and it appeared to not even have gone out. Of course, by the time I got home, the storm was over and the humidity was even heavier.

I'm really hoping for another storm, to cool the air. Is it so wrong I sort of hope it happens again tomorrow while we're at work and takes the power out?

That's probably a little greedy, really but it does make for an interesting day. And sometimes, we just need those.

Happy Wednesday

Reflections of a Life at Work...

Today started as another stormy day with the sky so dark, it didn't feel like daylight at all. When the rain came, it came down with torrential force. It cleared up eventually but now it's starting to cloud up again and Mr. Weatherman told us that we should expect more storms.

I don't mind a good storm. I find them therapeutic. At the moment, especially at work, I could use therapeutic. It's one of those times in which I'm trying to be zen but each day presents yet another challenge and I have to remind myself of my mantra: "It's only a job, it's only a job."

It is only a job but it's disgusting how much of a bearing our jobs have on our lives. Sometimes it's just impossible to convince yourself it's only a job. After all, for me, at least, I work 40 hours a week. I get 12 days off a year. If you want to be mathematical about it, at 40 hours a week, for 52 weeks a year, that's a total of 2080 working hours. Take away the 12 days off I get, at eight hours a day times 12, that's 96 hours of vacation/sick time. That leaves 1984 hours per year in which I work.

Yes, I used numbers. Scary, I know. But when you stop to think about it, 1984 hours per year is a lot. That's a lot of time to be spending with coworkers and bosses who drive you a little crazy each day. It's no wonder that sometimes its easy to lose perspective as to the fact that it's just a job.

For me, now I have puppies to come home to, it does make work easier. It doesn't make it better but it gives me an escape. I come home for lunch each day and that hour is the best hour of my day. I get to hug my puppies, eat my lunch and escape from my office. Even on the worst days, I've found that this hour can make any day better.

It's all largely due to the puppies who, in spite of their penchant to dig up flowers, rip up paper, eat my books and chew my shoes, are too easily forgiven. They're currently staring up at me as if to say, "hey, lady, why aren't you paying attention to us."

Of course, on the downside, this makes it incredibly hard to write. I tried to get some time in tonight. I got some writing done. I'm working on the sequel to The Reluctant Demon which, I've probably mentioned, is tentatively entitled, Emmy Goes to Hell. I'm stealing a little from Dante and his nine circles of Hell. Oddly, the sixth circle, the first level in which is considered "Lower Hell" bears a striking resemblance to 'Emmy's' office.

I know I'll have to be careful because it's easy to get sued for libel these days. I'm being careful. However, this time around, Emmy's office in Hell often, conincidentally, resembles mine at times. Strange how that happened. I did make the concession that coffee would be worse in Hell though, in truth, I'd challenge that in real life. Sometimes the coffee in our office is so vile, it's like someone sprinkled coffee in a jug of chlorine and called it 'fresh coffee.'

The fun of being a writer is that you can draw from real life without stealing completely. You can use your observations to be creative. It's one of the joys of my life. I try hard not to be passive agressive in my writing though, to call out friends and foes who I feel have let me down or upset me. I know people who have done that and it never ends well. Instead, I try to add a sardonic layer to my writing in which I gently poke fun at people without being malicious. For example, my heroine in "The Reluctant Demon" calls one of the managers "Voldemort" because, to her, he bears a striking resemblance to the Ralph Fiennes version from the Harry Potter movies. Let's just say that I might have projected one of my own thoughts from one of our own managers there.

By that, I wasn't being mean. I just observed that, to me, this manager did look like Voldemort. Of course, now some of my coworkers have read my book, I have had them giggle that they never thought about the manager like that but I "am so right!"

Oops.

But there's a strange pleasure in that. It means people are really reading my book and remembering small details like that. Ok, it does make it easier if you know it's written by me and you work with me and know that there is a manager who looks like Voldemort. Of course, you probably wouldn't have noticed that until "Emmy" pointed it out in The Reluctant Demon. Still, people noticed and it's fun to have them act shocked but amused at the observation.

Whoever it was that said, "The Pen is Mightier Than the Sword," was definitely right. I have to confess that it gives me a lovely feeling of power over my sometimes miserable work situation to know that no matter how much I'm made to feel like Harry Potter, I can retailiate in fiction. It's therapeutic and it makes for some great writing; nothing is more powerful for writing than a bad experience that riles you up so much you have to do something about it. Me...I choose words. I write in a furious frenzy on days like this. If words could throw up dust as I typed them up, my 'office' would be so cloudy, you wouldn't be able to see me.

It's one of the reasons I do love being a writer, even if things on that front don't always go as smoothly as I'd like. There is a benefit to writing, even if it's not in the form of recognition and sales. It's days like this that remind me, once again, why writing is my chosen form of expression and no matter how much I threaten to quit, I couldn't. It's my coping mechanism and everyone needs one of those.

Unless you're a puppy and your coping mechanism is digging up flowers.

Thanks for reading! Happy Thurday!

Reflections on Writing...And Other Stuff...

This week feels like it's moving very, very slowly. Perhaps it's because work isn't as busy but it seems like Friday is definitely taking its own sweet time in coming.

Still, the weather has brightened up and that definitely makes a huge difference. Tonight, for the first time in several days, the puppies and I got to spend some time outside this evening. I decided to start weeding a particularly weed-infested area of my garden. I meant to spend half an hour doing it but I ended up spending an hour and a half. On the plus side, the ground is looking good. On the downside, my hands are a bit cramped from the effort.

I did take the girls for a walk tonight and for the first time since we started walking almost nightly, they both walked well. I'm hoping this is a sign of things to come although it could have been a fluke. Sookie doesn't like the walks as much as Rory but I've discovered if I carry her through the door, she seems ok. She has a phobia about walking through the door. Of course, I did accidentally shut her tail in it last week so that probably does a lot to explain that. I think I felt worse about it than she did. I felt like a terrible mummy to her for doing it but she recovered nicely.

I also found out that the newspaper in my parent's down- my former 'hometown' published the interview they did with me last week about my book. It's not much but it's the first step in my efforts to do my own publicity. I wanted them to publish a blurb, they wanted an interview. It's a tiny little newspaper, not particularly journalistically brilliant, but it feels rather nice that I'm in there as a 'local author.'

My book sales are not going that badly. Although I have discovered that on Amazon, there are quite a few copies of my book available for sale 'used.' Given that I have my sales figures, I'm finding this curious. Part of me is a little offended that someone is trying to earn a profit off my book that's higher than my royalty payment but part of me is actually a little flattered that someone is going to the trouble to do so. Slowly, but surely, I'm starting to sell copies. I'm starting to get mostly good reviews and each one makes me feel like a real author.

It doesn't take much, I suppose. But each tiny thing is a step forward, no matter how small a step.

As I said the other day, it helps when you get rejections to know that you've got something out there. I got another rejection tonight for a story I submitted to an anthology. I didn't think it would bother me but it did, a little. I try not to look at the mounting stack of email rejections I've accumulated over the years and feel like I've failed somehow. I've always heard that everyone gets rejections at first. It's been a while now and all I have is rejections. I try not to listen to that little evil voice in my head that says, "you only have a novel published because you did it yourself." It's hard to ignore it sometimes because sometimes it gets meaner and says, "you can't really write, you know. You're just not good enough."

Thoughts like this are dangerous. I don't think they're true but they're an echo of the self-doubt that's so easy to feel when you constantly hear 'no' instead of one, simple 'yes.'

Still, I always said I only wanted to write to entertain and people seem to like my book so somewhere, I might be doing something right. It's nice to see yourself in print, at the very least. It happened first when I was nine and I wrote a story called "How the Sheep Got its Fleece." I wrote it after we got back from a choir concert in about ten minutes. My teacher liked it so much she typed it up and laminated it for everyone to read.

It was a thrill, especially for a nine-year-old who'd originally scribbled the story in royal blue Beryl pen ink in a blue covered lined exercise book. I felt like a writer then. I feel like a writer now, even if I'm not getting as much writing done as I'd like. The puppies are being a little difficult. They're mostly housebroken but if I ignore them and try to write, they decide to 'punish' me by going to the bathroom on the carpets I shampooed this weekend. I know it's their way of telling me I should be paying attention to them, I just don't know how to stop it. If anyone has advice, I'd greatly appreciate it.

Still, I am getting ideas all the time on my book and sometimes, that's just as good as writing it. When I do get it finished, I think it's going to be good...or, at least I hope so.

In the meantime, I do need to start doing more publicity for my book. I need to outsell the person who's selling copies of my book used, at least. I'm not in it for the money but I'd like to at least get what I'm due for the copies I'm selling.

I suppose when you find yours work being sold by a third party, it means you're doing something right, right?

Happy Thursday!

A Bouquet of Pencils...

What is it about Mondays that is so thouroughly exhausting? I'm sure it has something to do with the fact that the past two days were the weekend and thus, they were fun. Just as you finally get relaxed, it's Sunday night and by Monday morning, you have to start all over again.

This particular Monday wasn't exhausting for any reason. It just was. I had far too much fun with the puppies this weekend and going back to work and having to crate them back up was hard. I knew they didn't want to be shut up just as I didn't want to be confined to my cubicle.

Nevertheless, it's part of the routine that is the reality of life. It's not all bad. By Wednesday, Monday will seem like a distant blur and the reward of Friday will lie ahead.

I signed two books today. I find myself asking if the requester is serious. I don't think I've quite accepted the fact that I'm an actual 'author' now. I have a book. People want me to sign it. Better yet, people really seem to be enjoying it- which is the whole reason I published it in the first place. There's nothing more rewarding than someone telling me how much fun it was and how they couldn't put it down- and that's now happened enough times that I've stopped thinking people are being kind.

It's just strange to sign the books. I think I need to get a decent pen. Currently, I've been signing them in a cheap-ish ballpoint pen that I pilfered from my company. Well, honestly, I didn't even pilfer it. Our company likes to give out pens. When they change design as they seem to frequently, they divvy up the pens to the employees. Thus, I have a cup full of ballpoint pens which write fine but...not well, if that makes sense.

To be honest, I prefer pencil anyway. I have a little cup with almost two dozen pencils in it. I call it my "Bouquet of Pencils". It makes me happy but I can't explain why. It gives me satisfaction to look at my pencil bouquet and choose the one I want to use. Maybe it's a regression thing; when I was a kid, I wanted no more than to cast aside childish pencil and move onto a more permanent pen. These days, I just like pencils. It's hard to explain the things that really make us happy in such a simple way though, isn't it?

So, between my bouquet of pencils, being asked to 'autograph' two books and having two little puppies to come home to, my Monday could have been far worse. These days, I try not to dwell on work like I used to because there's simply no point. I still dislike the politics of it all and there are many practices I despise but, well, as I've learned to say to myself whenever I feel slightly paranoid...it's just a job. It pays the bills, it feeds my puppies and it lets me splurge on Mario Batali cookware once in a while. When you have a Rory and a Sookie to come home to, even some of the worst days seem a little better as soon as I toss a tennis ball in the back garden and watch their little legs work to outrace the other.

As I always say, it's all about the simple things in life: puppies, pencils and Spring days...even on Mondays.

Happy Tuesday!

The Inevitability of Mondays...

It's been a very English sort of Sunday out there today. When I say English, I mean in the sense of a traditional English Spring day. It starts out grey and then rains. Then, out of nowhere the dark gloom of the clouds break and the blue sky above is revealed, the sun streaming down making the water shine on the grass, illuminated.

Then the sky closes and the rain comes again.

All day, it's been like this. Currently, the rain is coming down hard but it's oddly bright outside. It's not terribly cold but the rain brings a chill. The daffodils are ducking away from the heavy drops. It really does make me feel like I'm in England for a few seconds.

It's the time on a Sunday that I dislike. It's mid-evening. The day is done, the night not quite here. Yet it's the time in which the realization that the weekend is quickly fading away hits and you know that no matter what you do between now and tomorrow morning, there's no escaping the inevitability of Monday.

I'm not a fan of Mondays, as you probably know if you read my blog. I am, however, a fan of weekends. This one, while mostly uneventful, has been very nice in its pure laziness and escape from routine.

On Friday morning, the puppies woke me at 5:30 a.m. I ended up decided to just get up and go to work early; since we had a scheduled lunch with my boss, I knew that if I got to work by 7 a.m., I could still got to lunch and still have time to swing by home and let the puppies out.

It seemed a good idea in theory. In reality, by 4 p.m., I was ready to go home to bed.

I spent Friday evening watching reruns of Top Chef: Masters on my DVR and watching the puppies run. By 9:30 p.m., those puppies were exhausted. They promptly crawled onto my lap and passed out. It was blissfully peaceful. We all slept hard on Friday night.

Saturday was nice too. I spent the day with the puppies, only leaving to run to Jungle Jim's (thanks for still having quail eggs!) and the attached pet store. I was a little worried that the Beneful I was feeding them was not agreeing so I splurged on some more 'natural' food that cost more but was supposed to be better on their digestive system. The only bad part is that they don't seem to like it. I think they'll get used to it though.

I did manage to seek out some human company. I had a very pleasant evening playing Harry Potter Clue with my friend and her son and then going out for a spectacularly delicious dinner than included lamb patties, sauteed spinach and pumpkin cheesecake for dessert.

I'd say it was a good day.

Unfortunately, I can't boast that my Sunday was fantasically productive. Ok, so I did clean, I did do laundry and I even managed to make my first ever batch of ratatouille which was rather delicious, if I do say so myself. I just didn't get terribly far with the writing I planned on doing. I'm working on a 'challenge' with a friend of mine who is also a writer. We're going to use the same premise but since we're wildly different types of writers, see what we come up with. I did manage to get a good thousand words written, I'm just not sure if I like it or not.

Nevertheless, I tried and, to me, that's something on a rainy Sunday. On the plus side, I did get some wonderful feedback and a review from friends who read my book. That's enough to make me feel fabulous. I've said it before and I'll say it again: Having good friends who are willing to pay for your book AND give you a review/comments is a valuable thing indeed. I thank you all. You're making me feel like a real writer. I even signed my first book on Friday. It felt...weird...

...but good.

Now, the Sunday evening light is fading and the rain is coming down slowly and steadily. The puppies are in their bed, curled up for warmth after playing in the rain. As for me, I plan on spending my last hours of this weekend's freedom, watching TV and being glad for the warmth of two little dachshund puppies, curled up beside me.

Sometimes, life is good. Even when the next day is a Monday.

Happy Monday!

Celebrating Triumphs through Facebook....

I've been distracted by puppies lately. I've realized I'm in danger of becoming one of those people, the ones who gush and show pictures every time someone asks me how the puppies are.

I never thought I'd be like that. I thought I'd have a dog or dogs for companionship and while I loved them, they would just be my dogs. I think I might have been a bit unrealistic about that.

Instead, I think I'm becoming one of those insufferable pet parents. If someone asks me how the puppies are, I always have a story, how cute they are, how clever Sookie was because I finally got her to go to the bathroom on the puppy pad I put in the corner or how sweet Rory is because when she's scared, she runs straight to me for protection, letting me know that she knows who her mummy is.

Even when I type that, I feel a bit like Hagrid from Harry Potter. The big, scary man was a big softie when it came to animals and I think that might just be me and the puppies. I can't got to a shop with a pet section without seeing if they have any good squeaky toys because those girls, they love their squeaky toys.

I don't think there's anything wrong with being a good pet parent. I just have to be careful not to make the puppies the only thing in my life.

Take for example, last week. My book was published and up for sale on Amazon.com. I sold my first copy.

That's huge, really. Yet, I let it pass by without taking in the fact that I am now a published author. It's been a dream of mine for a while and it finally came true.

That's something I think I should stop and enjoy, really, don't you think?

The nice thing is that thanks to Facebook, I have a little pep squad, some friends who ordered the book the minute I told them it was available. There was no hesitation, no "I'll do it later," or "I'll wait until I get paid." No, they put it straight in their Amazon.com cart and it's already being shipped. That's also something to celebrate.

It's nice to have friends like that. Some of them are close friends, others are simply friends I went to high school with and found on Facebook. Some are in the U.S., some in the U.K. It's a strange, humbling thing to realize that people believe in me that much that they don't stop and wonder if it's worth the money, they just buy it.

It also goes to show how much a part of our lives Facebook is these days. I don't go a day where I don't at least check people's statuses on my phone, to make sure they're all ok and there's no catastrophes at hand and to see what everyone's up to at that moment.

It's ironic, really. People say technology is forcing us apart, making us reliant on computers and gadgets and less on each other. To some extent, that's true. It's easier to do things online than go do it in person. It does cut down on our interpersonal interactions.

But I don't think it's forcing us apart. For me, Facebook has become almost a virtual scrapbook of my life. My first very best friend in England is my friend on Facebook and even though we haven't seen each other for years, I can see her children's photos, her husband, her parents. I have friends from my first days in the U.S., friends that I enjoyed in high school but didn't think I'd see again once we graduated. I have other friends from high school who I wanted to see again but we all went our separate ways. I have close friends who I email outside of facebook or talk to on the phone. I have friends from my many jobs...

You get the idea....for me, Facebook is a way of pulling the social history of my life together and laying it out for me to see how my life has evolved. These are people who all knew me at different stages of my life, from my evolution of being a slightly scruffy little bookworm to becoming someone who actually writes books.

As a writer and as a human, I have to say, Facebook is a great invention. I don't use it the way many people do- I have yet to ask ANYONE for a cow or a barn in Farmville and I intend to keep it that way- but I love that it lets me connect with my many friends.

As a published writer, it's a wonderful way for me to realize how kind people are. They're taking a chance on me as a writer and as a friend and it's a pretty darn good feeling.

So, for anyone who knows me, has bought my book or is my Facebook friend, I thank you kindly for your confidence and belief in me. That means an awful lot to me.

And, also, if you want to see any puppy pictures, just let me know.

Just kidding. Mostly.

Happy Tuesday!

Eventful Spring Days....

It was another Spring-like day today. The first crocuses in my garden are blooming, one purple, one white, one yellow. I planted a ton of them because i love to see them spring up out of the faded green, yellowish grass, up from the leaf-covered dirt and surprise us with their chipper-colours. My daffodils will follow and then I can truly say Spring is here.

While I love winter, I'm ready for a change. I'm ready to start thinking about my garden, being about to walk the puppies without needing a coat, finding ways to explore the outdoors. It's supposed to be nice all week, which should make even more flowers bloom.

This is turning into an eventful week. For one thing, there are puppies. Each day is a new adventure with them. Tonight, it was bath night.

My experience with dogs and baths is that, generally, they don't like them. Then they get angry with you and either try to make you as wet as they are or they run around, rolling in the grass, trying to dry off and then proceed to let you know they are NOT happy with you.

Well, my puppies clearly hadn't had a bath yet. They cried in the sink as I washed them. Then I wrapped them in a warm towel. They cried. They ran around whimpering for some time. Then when I was done bathing them, I had to wrap them in the towel and cuddle with them. Then they followed me, crying. So I put them in their bed wrapped in an old sweater and they finally stopped crying.

Ironically, it wasn't cold. I think they just hated the bath experience rather a lot. I can't blame them. I suppose if I were a tiny puppy, someone showering me with warm water would be a little traumatizing.

Then when they were dry enough, I let them run around outside since it was a balmy spring day. Well, as soon as they got out there, my neighbour unleashed his hounds (or rat terriers, at least). They immediately barked. My puppies gave a fight and yipped back but then the neighbours on the other side of the Dog Whisperer let his dogs out and they crashed through the fence into the Dog Whisperer's yard. All of a sudden, the three dogs became six and my tiny puppies trembled while the two men laughed.

I, personally, don't think it's cute though, in their defense, they did try to scoop up their dogs. My puppies were both fascinated and terrified.

I'm not sure what we're going to do about this. I only hope that either my puppies can bark back or the neighbours stop letting the dogs out whenever they see me outside. We can only hope.

Then, of course, to top it all off, I get a call from my friend and fellow writer. My book is now for sale on Amazon. I've already sold a few copies. It's a good feeling. I can now say, "I'm a published author."

In all honesty, it hasn't sunk in. I feel like I should do something to celebrate. Then again, having two puppies is a pretty good way of celebrating. They're currently sleeping after running around like maniacs all evening. I plan on waking them up before bed, to spend that last spurt of energy before they crash for the night.

In the meantime, while they sleep, I get a chance to blog. I can check my email and look up stuff that I've been meaning to do for a while. It's a nice sort of peace.

For now, I'll take that when I can!

Happy Wednesday!

By the way, if you want to check out my book, click here:

Whirlwind Weekends....

This was one of those weekends that just flew by. I don't even know where the time went. I don't even feel like I did that much but somehow I manage to eat up two days of time without really knowing where they went.

Now it's back to work tomorrow to begin another week. Things at work haven't been too terribly lately. I can't say I'm dancing through the daisies as though I were in the Sound of Music but, for the most part, I haven't visualized using my yoga strap for anything other than relaxing.

And I did have a good weekend even if it flew by too quickly. I managed to get my book formatted and uploaded and a cover designed- front, back and spine- so that it can start being sold on Amazon.com. It's funny, a few books ago, I was very against self-publishing. It always has such a stigma attached to it- an idea that "You can't get published and the only choice you have is to do it yourself."

That's how I felt up until a couple of months ago. Then I wrote The Reluctant Demon. It's the first mainstream book I've really written. It's humourous. It has a female protagonist. I hate to sound arrogant but I'm pretty sure it's written well. And to top it all off, it's a timely subject: A woman falls in love with a supernatural creature. Ok, so, right now, the craze is still vampires but demons aren't that far off....just watch a few episodes of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. I still couldn't get an agent to give me the time of day.

I think in my mind, the power has shifted. A few years ago, writers were reliant on agents and publishing companies. Now, the publishing industry is faltering- the small companies have been swallowed by the bigger companies and there's really not many places for new, unpublished writers to go.

So, now, instead of feeling like I'm selling out by publishing myself, I can't help but feel this rush of power. It's in my hands. Granted, I won't have the media campaigns that the popular novels get but it means I can get people to read my stuff. And, in truth, that's all I want. I don't want the money...I just want to be read. I think, at heart, that's what most of us writers want.

I suppose that means I had a good, productive weekend, even if it did fly by. I also got to go to Jungle Jim's which, as you probably know if you read this regularly, always makes a day better. This time, I absolutely, positively have to laud Jungle Jim's. They made my insane obsessive Foodie dreams come true: They had fresh quail eggs.

I know, I know, this may not seem like a huge deal but as I mentioned a few blogs ago, quail eggs had become a quest. I see them on the Food Network all the time and all I wanted to do was try them. Jungle Jim's carries them in a canned form but not in the fresh, bespeckled beauty I always see on TV. In all my trips to Jungle Jim's, I've never found them fresh. And then, when I least expected it, as I was leaving the produce section to move on to the international aisles, there they were, right next to the balut eggs.

As a side note, they usually don't have balut, either. It's one of those, uh, delicacies that has always fascinated me, rather like seeing the sheeps, cow and pigs heads they often carry at Jungle Jim's. For those of you that don't know, balut is a fertilized duck (or chicken) egg with a nearly-developed embryo inside that is boiled and eaten in the shell. It's very popular in the Phillippines. I've never been able to bring myself to try one though I have watched my Filipino friends eat them. I think if I'd been brought up to eat them, it wouldn't bother me but, well, I wasn't and my British palate isn't quite brave enough to try them. If you can't quite comprehend why this might be a little, um, un-palatable, just Google it to look for pictures. You might get it then.

Even if I wasn't about to buy any, I was impressed that Jungle Jim's had some in stock.

Not as impressed as the quail eggs though. I snatched a package up- gently, of course. I confess, I, um, sort of hugged them a little in my excited. Then, as I walked around the rest of the store, I kept my hand on them to a) keep them safe so they didn't get broken in transit and b) to make sure no one stole them. Since they had a plethora of them, I'm quite sure that no one would have stole them but in my haze of excitement at actually finding them, I wasn't about to take any chances.

Also, they had my cipollini onions that I haven't been able to find. Fresh, small, cipollini onions....I think it's safe to say, Jungle Jim's is the best grocery store...ever. As of this moment, there's no longer anything I've seen on the Food Network that I haven't been able to find at Jungle Jim's.

It's odd the things that make a weekend good....quail eggs, self-publishing and a long, leisurely walk around a grocery store. I suppose it's good when the small things in life can make me happy.

Or they make me weird....or, at least, odd....Nevertheless, I cooked my first quail eggs today....

Delicious.

Happy Monday!