Morning Glories of the Corn

For reasons unknown, the random morning glories are flourishing and blooming more than the ones I painstakingly planted. These same unknown reasons are likely responsible for the lack of blooms on all the vining flowers, and for the complete lack of female blossoms on the pumpkins and squash. I learned about male and female pumpkin blossoms and hand pollination here , but I can't work with something that isn't there. There are quite a few buds still to open, but this late in the season, it's unlikely that there will be pumpkins. Even if by some miracle pumpkins appear, they will most likely be eaten by squirrels. And the corn, it's about as high as an elephant's ankle. But it's attractively festooned with morning glories.

For Book Club, (first rule of book club, don't talk about book club...) we're reading Eat, Pray, Love. So far, I like it, although I don't understand the author's penchant for spending her nights weeping and sleeping on floors. If I'm going to be miserable, I prefer to be physically comfortable whilst being so.

I do understand her fascination with Italy and the Italian language; and yes, I was interested to learn that Ciao! comes from sciào vostro, an expression used in intimate conversation, an expression that means "I am your slave". Of course, I can't see myself ever saying or hearing sciào vostro , but I do like learning new things. No matter how apparently useless they might be. Actually, uselessness rather adds to the appeal.

Although, I suppose nothing is useless to a novelist. I could possibly work sciào vostro into the current work in progress, but perhaps I'll save it for NaNo 2010 : Morning Glories of the Corn. I have no idea what it's about. I have 82 days to figure that out. Ciao!

For the Beauty of the Earth

We've lived in our house for nine summers. For nine summers, I didn't know the name of the forty-foot tall tree on the other side of the fence. Every spring, it produced frgrant little pink blossoms, but nothing else. The other day I went to check on the garden and found tiny golden fruits on the ground. Maybe the squirrels brought them. Another tiny fruit hit the ground. I looked up. The tree is full of apricots. Tiny, sweet, tasty apricots.
I don't know why the tree decided to produce fruit this year, after being barren for so long. Maybe the vibrancy of our garden is contagious. The backyard beds are thriving as never before.
The park is incredibly lush too; this morning we came across a patch of sunflowers, a currant bush covered in tart red fruit, spurred snapdragons, sweetpeas, myriad wildflowers and a stand of orange daylilies. We also received a scolding from a beaver, but that's another story.
Bees, dragonflies and butterflies are prolific this summer too; I'm not the only person to notice. The backyard is filled with birds. In a world where so much is so wrong, this little corner is blossoming.

O Frabjous Day!

There is something about holding the actual book that is so much more real than looking at the ebook pdf or the endless Word document. Seeing my name in print on the shiny cover is seductive. It makes me think of possibilities and reminds me of childhood dreams abandoned long ago.
I signed up for NaNoWriMo on a whim. (Thanks, Jenn!) Characters who had been living a half-life in my head came rushing out onto the pages. They got on my nerves sometimes, when they'd do unplanned things, wander off, appear out of nowhere, or change genders or species. The goal of writing 50,000 words in 30 was just crazy enough to be exhilarating.
I didn't know about the 'prize' when I started. One of the Nanoites told me about it at a write-in. Six months seemed like plenty of time to rewrite the book into something worth printing. It might have been, if I had been as focused as I was during the month of November. But for assorted reasons, many of them having to do with laziness, procrastination and unemployment, most of the rewriting happened in the last thirty days. I may be a bit of an adrenaline junkie. Instead of jumping out of planes or off of bridges, I write against a crazy deadline.
There's still a lot of rewriting to be done. Scenes need to be fleshed out, characters need to be developed, and I'm sure that there are some gaping plot holes waiting to be filled. But right now, I feel good. There's a 300 page book in my hands, and I wrote it.