Once again, here we go with less a full-course blog meal, and more a series of vaguely unsatisfying bloglet nibblins, like some grotesque shareable you’d order at Applebee’s that would give you vicious 3AM diarrhea. Also, my favorite Lord of the Rings character was Bloglet Nibblins, half-hobbit, half-orc, all sex machine.
I figured out some business with my middle grade book. In case you didn’t see, ahem ahem, Little Brown bought my MG novel, Dust & Grim, and I’m in the midst of edits on that book, and I rewrote the first act and wasn’t feeling it — but I figured out how to move forward on it in a way that’s satisfying. It’s weird because my BRAINTHINK comes slower at this moment in time — it’s like, the thought I need to find is in the back of the cabinet, but instead of just reaching in and plucking it off the shelf, I have to first push through a wall of pudding. The wall of pudding is gloppy and forbidding in that I cannot see what’s beyond it, so I gotta do a lotta fumbling around.
This mind pudding effect is not kept to just fiction. I get it all the time now. I sat down after lunch today, plonking myself in front of the computer, and I had a list of things I needed to do, and then the moment I sat, that list was gone. Simply inaccessible. I just sat there, slack-jawed, like, I have shit to do, I’m sure of it, buuuuuuuut. (I talk more about this phenomenon with Jared Rizzi on his new podcast, if you care to listen.) So instead I went outside and stood underneath a snow of crabapple blossoms. Oddly, it helped, and I figured out several things I needed to do.
One of the things is about rewilding our property. Found a good native plants place not far away that will deliver, and I’m picking some nice natives to start to go in around the front and back yards, either to replace junk that’s there now or to simply slot in alongside stuff to start competing. The goal is to get more birds and butterflies and buggables and such. Maybe summon a hobo or two, enticed by fragrant flowers, and then we can butcher the ol’ hobos and — I’ve said too much. I don’t want to share my hobo recipes, because then you’ll all start hoarding hobos, and I won’t be able to get any.
Hey so I found a new bird. Er, I didn’t discover a brand new bird, but rather, one that is new to me — one who roamed idly into view as I was standing there. So here I present, the yellow-rumped warbler. SONGBIRD OF THE GILDED BUTT. I’m really quite fond of that photo.
I have a bread problem. I real damn bread problem. So you remember how I did the obvious thing and cultivated a sourdough starter? Yeah, I’ve baked with it every day since. I’ve made two loaves with just starter, then another “noir” loaf with chocolate and walnuts, and with the discard I made rolls, and I made waffles. The rolls were sublime, truly some of the greatest I have ever eatenthe waffles I usually make. The waffles were… fine, not great, totally edible but inferior to , which are murderiferously good. Then I bought two 10-lb bags of flour (soft wheat and hard bolted wheat) from a local mill and seriously, I have a problem. That problem is bread. And probably diabetes, soon? Can you grow meat from a sourdough starter? Or Impossible Burgers? (Oh, these are the rolls, btw.)
I guess a meat shortage might be a thing? We get most of our meat from local providers, which is nice in that a) I’m supporting people near me and b) they’re not big factory farms subject to the problems those have. Not to say “small farmers” are automagically better people or better places, but on a whole I find they are, if only because you can go there, and see the operation, and talk to the farmers. We did try when this all started to buy a freezer and hahahaha that was fucking stupid. In mid-March, the earliest we could get one delivered was April 28th, and you’ll note that April 28th has come and gone. Our new delivery date is June 15th, so, yeah. Somewhere there’s like, one guy with a thousand freezers he’s using to keep all his toilet paper cold. The fucker.
Also, Pepcid? So someone said that famotidine cures The Cove, The Rona, The Vid, and now people are hoarding that even though the off-chance of it working means you’d need to have it delivered to you via IV, which is not what you buy from Target, you dicks. I could use my heartburn meds just for heartburn. Anxiety heightens heartburn. And heartburn heightens anxiety! Fun.
My anxiety is quieter, though, these days. That feels weird, but I think it’s smug. Self-righteous. “See, I told you this shit would happen,” it says, rocking back on its heels like a too-proud child. “Don’t worry, I’ll be back later. For now, just pickle in the world I told you would arrive.”
Some injuries are funny. I’m sorry, it’s just true. For instance, this thread where I asked last night, hey, what’s your weirdest or most embarrassing injury? It’s got 3,000 responses and hooooooly shit.
Wanderers in paperback. Boom, you just got suckered into reading a sales pitch. You fools. Ahem. No, seriously, Wanderers? It’s coming out in paperback this month. Aaaaand I don’t know if that’s gonna work or not, because print is weird right now? But if you’re so inclined to grab a copy, your local indie store would surely welcome that business. So would Doylestown Books, where you can pre-order it. Comes out May 19th. Tell your friends! And your vague acquaintances!
We’re okay here. Again, lucky and privileged and mostly fine. A lot of floating. Distance learning is hard — everything feels like homework for the kid, because now, everything is homework, and his bedroom is his classroom, and that just sucks. It’s nobody’s fault. Everybody’s doing their best. But it’s definitely an act of jogging on a fractured leg, and everyone pretending that, nope, you’re just supposed to run like that, it’s fine, the herky-jerky gait is normal, keep running, it won’t hurt, ow, ow, ow. We got toilet paper. We went from none to a lot in short order? We have food, though what’s available week to week is erratic and odd. I’m trying to cook healthy meals, but veggies have been the real hard one to get — we’re trying Misfits Market for the next month until the CSA we subscribed to kicks into gear. These are all very privileged problems, I know. Just the same, things are weird, and the industry in which I work is going through some paroxysms, and as the country’s economy wavers, so too do theoretically luxury items like books and… well, just grabbing onto the cliff’s edge as tight as I can, is all. As I imagine most of us are doing. I think that’s it. I’m out. Here are dogs.