Books, Things

8:55pm: Burnout
I am so burned out recently. Combination of winter doldrums, personal shtuff, and my increasingly difficult job gets me down. I was off on Monday, taking some necessary days off Thursday and Friday. Oh, the volumes I can write.

Such drama.
So unimportant.
These are the ways of things, I guess.

In these cold and dark times, what do I do? Garden dreaming-roses, orchids, mini-sinningias. I write voluminous lists of plants I'm going to get (maybe, possibly) this coming spring-I've lost a good deal of my masdevallias due to lack of care (read: neglect) of these difficult plants. Nothing too expensive that can't be replaced but it hurts, monetarily.

I'm taking George to have his little operation on Friday-poor guy. I go through mental convulsions every time I have to bring any of my cats to the vet-as if I'm bring Mar, Mist, Gnome or Mirin for that final, sad, sad visit all over again.

Later.

11:18pm: Holiday Fun (or not)
Time as usual seems to be going faster as the years go by.

The other day, Seth and I were talking about our evolving tastes in music and food. He has a huge library of cd's, far more than my odd 2,000 more or less. Can't say we agree on all tastes in what interests us, but I've been dipping into his stuff a great deal. Nirvana. Stone Temple Pilots. Pearl Jam. Foo Fighters. Eddie Vedder solo work. I still really enjoy my Scandinavian folk with it's beautiful, irregular rhythms, the stuff out of the Baltic sea and the Balkans. Fringe music, independent-what have you. More eventually.

4:00am: Mirin (1992)
Mirin, Mar, Gnome and Mist.

Mirin's the last to go. Farewell, farewell. I write this at 4am, am too incoherent to say much.

Too many tears.

I love you sweetheart.

7:00pm: Welcome, little kitty monster
After Gnomey passed away, I was terribly despondent. Nearly every kitten and cat that I saw I wanted. Purebreds were too expensive by far.
A coworker of Seth's cat had kittens. He called me when I was away for the day and was all excited about this little furball. We picked him up July 5.

So far he's wormed his little fuzzybutt into my heart. He's quite a handful...it's been quite a while since the house has echoed to the sound of little cat feet. He attacks Spalding mercilessly. Mirin stares at him in amazed shock and wants nothing to do with this interloper.

His eyes have lightened slightly since this shot, he's also growing fast. He emits tiny little trills and squeaks, so far no meow.

Welcome to the house, fuzzy.

10:49pm: Soon, Darkness
It seems time goes faster, every year. This summer was spent doing as I usually do-waste time, working too many hours, fumbling through life, try to figure out the cosmic significance of what ever. And of course, reading. Reading.

Reading.

I almost wrote this awful sort of prose poem comparing time to milkweed floss, spinning in the winds of years passing. Sane heads prevailed.


The most significant thing that happened this week? Stung by a hornet. I've not been stung in years and years. Mister Hornet was found, under my shirt, crawling around most befuddled. He was taken most certainly into a wadded tissue, and tossed into the trashbin. I got stung 1ce in the upper right arm. It hurt for days and days.

Waaah.

The summer is over, alas. Next week is Labor Day. 'Tseems we should start singing the Internationale or something like that. But then again, we can also listen to Billy Bragg's version of the same with his bit of humor and irreverent wit. 3 day weekend, next week. Can I stand the excitement?

Pro'ly not. I'll implode, squishily.

Ah well.

4:54am: Patio, 8/9/2007
Witty conversation with Seth

'You ever going to stop buying plants?'
'You know, it's like breathing'

4:08am: Eggies
'David, what you cooking for dinner'
'What YOU cooking for dinner'
'Eggies?''
'Eggie wegs, with toast lumpets!'
Ahah!

9:35pm: Old cranky fuzzy.
First really hot Day this year, after a week of overwork and bad sleep. Didn't do much in the last couple of days, worked on Saturday am, visited the parents. Planted more stuff over there than I did here. Haven't gotten rain in a long time. Must be that global warming that the 'Publicans like to say simply doesn't exist. Jackasses.

The black locust trees are in flower-smells like cheap dimestore perfume, very sweet. They're becoming a serious pest. There's a tree not far from my window; at night that scent is simply everywhere. I can forgive the trees for the wonderful honey bees produce from the white flowers.

Still no kitty to replace Gnome Mirin's getting very cranky and is very thin. Old cranky fuzzy.

He calls for me. Muh-wOOOOOAH! I must obey.

2:21am: Friday Night
I'm doing the slow dance with Mother Insomnia and Mother Dyspepsia. Such a life I have, nu?

Truly the week from hell. I'd taken off Monday-just couldn't take the thought of going to work with the [still painful] loss of Gnome still gnashing its teeth in my consciousness. Seth and I did some shopping, went to a kitty shelter in Port Jefferson. He wasn't impressed by any of the full grown cats and the 1/2 grown kittens they had, though a sweet white-and-calico girl caught my eye. She had a great personality and seemed super friendly, giving me head rubbies and smoochies through the cage bars.

But it's too early to look. I have to give myself some time to work out the anger and grief.

I'm going to go to the little shelter in Northport this weekend. Even holding the kitties seems to lessen my grief.
Spalding and Mirin help.

Masdevallia Snowcone pic attached. Newly opened. Very different looking orchid

8:31pm: Sunday Night
I'm not dealing too well with this grief.

Mist died in 2003. Mar died on my birthday in 2003.
Now I lose Gnome?

I go on occasional crying jags. Don't know how I'm going to deal - but deal I must. Mirin seems to know something's seriously wrong-Spalding comes and lies in my arms and tells me by purring how much he truly loves me.

Seth went out - I can't ask him to sit with me all the time. He's off for the week. Wish I were. Don't know how I'm going to deal with the stress this week with this added heart wrenching sorrow.

Maybe I should go to sleep early.

Endless the sorrow, countless the tears

1:29pm: Gnome
Oh, my little kitten.

I had to put her to sleep today. I'm still numb.

"Just this side of heaven is a place called Rainbow Bridge.

When an animal dies that has been especially close to
someone here, that pet goes to Rainbow Bridge. There are
meadows and hills for all of our special friends so they
can run and play together. There is plenty of food, water
and sunshine, and our friends are warm and comfortable.

All the animals who had been ill and old are restored to
health and vigor. Those who were hurt or maimed are made
whole and strong again, just as we remember them in our
dreams of days and times gone by. The animals are happy and
content, except for one small thing; they each miss someone
very special to them, who had to be left behind.

They all run and play together, but the day comes when one
suddenly stops and looks into the distance. His bright eyes
are intent. His eager body quivers. Suddenly he begins to
run from the group, flying over the green grass, his legs
carrying him faster and faster.

You have been spotted, and when you and your special friend
finally meet, you cling together in joyous reunion, never to
be parted again. The happy kisses rain upon your face; your
hands again caress the beloved head, and you look once more
into the trusting eyes of your pet, so long gone from your
life but never absent from your heart.

Then you cross Rainbow Bridge together..."

I'll miss her forever. Slutcat. Bitey. Irritating Biting Thing. Sweet little fuzzy girl. Such a wonder she was.

At least I wasn't alone. Nor was she. Vets are thieves.

10:11pm: Another exciting day ...
In my own personal melodrama.

I did take 1/2 day off, just couldn't stand the 12th circle of hell anymore. (Yes I know, nowhere mentioned in Dante's classic, but I invented it, so there! It's the last resting place of insurance claims adjusters, tax examiners and frustrated artists.)

Snow's melting outside. Crocuses and Irises everywhere.

Tomorrow, O/T. Home by 10am, the whole weekend with the Shmoops. Whoooooohoo

Good heavens, 2ce in a week? Will this be a habit?

More later. Possibly

2:39am: It's 2:30-something in the AM
Ye gods, another night of dancing with Mother Insomnia

Gnome decided to wake me up again. She did her usual shrieking until I got out of bed. Mirin decided to join in. Spalding ran around doing Spalder things. Evil kitties. Did they have food? yup. Water? All four bowls are full of H20. Oh, I see. They wanted human warm thing to pay them attention.

To which, I answer 'Hah'.

I might play hooky tomorrow and take a 1/2 day off. Remember, the mantra. 'I love my job'

Starting to order stuff for the Spring garden. Begonias (3 types), a couple of gesneriads (4 types of Achimenes, Chirita Diane Marie (which I'd killed before), Columnea erythrophaea (which I'd also killed). Soon everything will be green outside. Good-I hate this winter shite.

Noticed another flower stem on Masdevallia Snow Cone-this will be the third in development. I'm appalingly interested in Masdevallias suddenly, guess it's one of those plants that orchidists eventually evolve (or devolve) to-the first 2 flowers dropped off within a couple of days of getting it from Parkside Orchids in PA (along with 2 leaves), now the plant loves the conditions. Warm growers-good. Cool growers-bad.

I was drooling over M. glandulosa and M. tonduzii and the hybrid Confetti. Little plants-big flowers. That's good.

Off to bed. Again.

4:39am: I never update
The job continues to eat my mind.

Still reading, still growing orchids and stuff.

One day I'll fill this with witty prose, dazzling pictures and comments about my erstwhile exciting life. As if.

More, later.

9:27am: An update of sorts
Haven't really updated this in a long while--since July it looks like. Books keep me busy, work kills my mind.

My best buddy Seth was in the Hospital for diabetes related cellulitis-very bad. Very Very Bad. He's better now, making my life an adventure in who knows what. But-well, we've been together for over 7 years now so it's the long stretch.

More later.

1:45am: So much to read, so little time
Tanith Lee: Metallic Love, Venus Preserved. Metallic Love is the continuation (if not really a sequel) to 1982's The Silver Metal Lover. Beautifully written as always. Venus Preserved is the 4th novel in a series starting with Faces Under Water, continuing onward to Saint Fire and A Bed of Earth, all having to do with a fantastic alternate Venice. Harder edged than Metallic Love, with her elegant, understated ironic style that's a true delight.

Rhys Hughes: A New Universal History of Infamy. Incredibly funny and incredibly odd, these satires and literary oddities are both literary tributes and satires of the style of Jorge Borges' Universal History of Infamy. He also includes in this collection some spoofs of fellow authors (Jeff Vandermeer, Tom Lebbon) deliberately written as if Borges had written them. You begin to wonder who he is poking fun at while trying not to laugh too hard.

Anna Tambour: Spotted Lily. Poor country girl (from the Australian outback) makes a deal with the devil so she can become a published author. Not the usual Faustian bargain.

Sean McMullen: Glass Dragons. Second book in his Moonworld's Saga. High drama and low comedy with good characters, good plot and good world building skills.

Patricia McKillipp: Od Magic. I've been a big fan of hers since The Forgotten Beasts of Eld in the mid-70's. Harder edged than most of her books, good sense of humor, exquisite writing style.

Steve Aylett: Lint. Very funny and odd fake biography of a fictitious author. Full of witty critic-speak which, of course, is itself part of the rich and witty humor.

I also picked up Joe Lansdale collection Bumper Crop. Good, horrific stories with a sharp (pun intended) moral sense and clear, rich writing style. He's a new author to me.

5:02am: Again! I write!
Continuing the thread...

To understand a person, see what they like to read. Here's an updated list of my treasured books and similar ephemera. Most of these books are available through Amazon

Peter S. Beagle
The Last Unicorn
Giant Bones

Lin Carter
The Star Magicians
The Giant of World's End
Outworlder

Susanna Clarke: Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell: A Novel

Lord Dunsany
The King of Elfland's Daughter
Time and the Gods (collection)

Neil Gaiman
American Gods
Stardust

Greer Ilene Gilman
Moonwise
A Crowd of Bone (novella),
Jack Daw's Pack (short story)

Geary Gravel
The Alchemists
The Pathfinders

Nina Kiriki Hoffman
The Thread that Binds the Bones
The Red Heart of Memories
A Fistful of Sky
A Red Heart of Memories

Barry Hughart
The Bridge of Birds
The Story of the Stone
Eight Skilled Gentlemen

James Killus: The Book of Shadows

Ian MacLeod
The Light Ages
The House of Storms

Patricia McKillip
Riddle-Master (The Riddle-Master of Hed, Heir of Sea and Fire, Harpist in the Wind)
The Forgotten Beasts of Eld
In the Forests of Serre

A. Merritt
The Ship of Ishtar
The Face in the Abyss
The Moon Pool
The Women of the Woods (novella)
The People of the Pit (short story)

Dan Simmons
Hyperion
The Fall of Hyperion
The Rise of Endymion

Sheri Tepper
Raising the Stones
Jinian Star Eye
Beauty
The Revenants

Jack Vance
The Dying Earth
Emphyrio
Alastor

Jeff Vandermeer
City of Saints and Madmen
Veniss Underground
The Thackery T. Lambshead Pocket Guide to Eccentric and Discredited Diseases

Paula Volsky
The Luck of Relian Kru
The Grand Ellipse
Illusion

Terry Windling: The Wood Wife

Paul Witcover: Waking Beauty

12:13pm: It begins!
A simple beginning.

Today, more gardening tasks: basil is growing still in community pots. Have to divide a pot of amaryllis that I started about 1 1/2 years ago.
One of the Haemanthus decided to rot out, damnit. Gerbera daisies in pots are great looking, may move them around to larger pots.

Reading: Al Sarrantonio's Flights

Huge collection of stories, with some of the best (as well as some of the most commercial) writers out there. I'm a huge fan of Nina Kiriki Hoffman-her novel The Thread that Binds the Bones well earned its Bram Stoker award-and her short tale Relations truly is wonderful. Elizabeth Lynn's The Silver Dragon, luminous and truly exquisitely told, is another standout. Read it, it's worth the $.