Buck the system; I want chocolate milk

It came from this tin.

A friend of mine shared a story how she had horrible childhood memories of school milk. To this day, she cannot drink milk, no matter how fresh and cold, because of her enforced experience.

I, too, received milk every day at school. Unlike my friend's, ours was safely refrigerated. Still, plain milk was never my favourite. It was an all-or-nothing kind of situation. If we chose to open our half-pint carton of milk, we had to drink the whole thing. We couldn't just open it, have a few sips and be done. We had the option to not drink, but that meant we had nothing at all to drink.

Once a week we got chocolate milk. We didn't know what day of the week it would be, but guaranteed that it would happen. Oh, how I loved chocolate milk! I would have cheerfully drunk all my milk every day if it was chocolate.

Then one day in Fifth Grade, I got an idea. What if I brought in my own chocolate milk powder? So I did. I got an old empty McCormick's spice tin, disguised it with a cover so it wasn't obvious, and filled it with chocolate milk powder. It was small enough to fit in my pocket. I brought this to school with me every day. Whenever it was a plain milk day, this tin would come with me to lunch and I'd tip a few spoonfuls in my milk carton, shake it up, and enjoy chocolate milk every single day.

Things One Can't Do with Only One Working Thumb

Actually, his hand looks an awful lot like this,
for the splint he has to wear makes his thumb stick out.

Last month His Grace suffered a hand injury that put his right thumb out of commission for a Very Long Time. This has been a challenge for him, for he is very much a right-handed man (unlike my good self, who is rather ambidextrous).

Thus, His Grace has been quite challenged. As he goes about adjusting to his new life, he regularly encounters things he cannot do because he does not have two thumbs.

You'd be surprised at what one can't do when one doesn't have a working thumb.

Now, some things aren't completely impossible, but sure are rather difficult when one attempts it with only one functional thumb.

This is the list of things His Grace can't do (or finds very difficult) without two working thumbs:

• Tie his shoelaces 
• Button up shirts (Guess who'd been helping him get dressed in the mornings.)
• Completely towel off after a shower
• Pull on thick socks
• Drive a manual vehicle
• Use the pepper grinder
• Remove an omelette from the pan.
• Cut Roma tomatoes or onions
• Certain sexual positions
• Type on a keyboard
• Play the entirety of Für Elise (and not just the noodly part everyone knows)
• Cut a piece of paper with scissors
• Read a hardbound book
• Climb a rope

No doubt we will add to this list as time rolls on.

Things His Grace can't do because it's his right hand:

• Left cuff button
• Fence
• Drive my car (the indicators are on the wrong side for him)
• Sign legal documents

All hail Sir Lefty.

____________________________________________
Okay, with Für Elise, His Grace can't play it even when he has two fully-functional thumbs.

Casketry

Yeah, I think I'd be okay with this,
as long as I get to choose the tree.

Imma gonna get my Goth self out of the closet (where I tend to keep her most of the time) and we're gonna  have a pleasant little chat about burial caskets.

See, death doesn't scare me. (I hope you also come to a place where it doesn't scare you either.) Because of this, I have been able to openly speak to my multitudinous offspring regarding my wishes for my funeral, et cetera.

I have only two solid wishes:

1. Play my music at my funeral. 
2. Do not feel you must spend much money on my funeral in order to show grief. Bury me in an old cardboard box if you want. I'm okay with that. I'd much rather you spend the money on yourself to make your lives happier. Keep things on the cheap because I'll be dead and won't care.

My daughters, with their own wry senses of humour, wholeheartedly embraced this idea. I've never been one much for adhering to others idea of "tradition". Therefore, if something slightly different comes along, I'm game to consider it.

Now, actual cardboard coffins are more expensive than the bog-standard pine box, it turns out. Seeing that price is the main factor, whatever coffin is the cheapest is good enough for me.

Then last week on Mr Money Mustache, I came across Nature's Casket.  What a cool idea!

Pine beetle infestations can be ruinous to the lumber industry. The beetles infest the wood, introduce a fungus that weakens the wood, and kill the tree. The resultant wood can't be used because its structural soundness is compromised. You can't use beetle-kill wood to build anything you wish to last more than a couple of years.

So, what can you build that only needs to last as long as the funeral and interment?  A casket of course! A casket only has to last a few days until it's buried, then it's welcome to return to nature. What an excellent use of this otherwise-useless wood?

Pine borers are a present pest in WA, so if I could get my hands on some pine borer wood, that'll do fine for building a casket here. 

Another option the daughters considered was a burial pod.  The Italian company Capsula Mundi offers burial pods, with a tree planted over the pod. They liked this idea, and I might be okay if they bent rule #2 for this option.

"What kind of tree do you want, Mum?" they asked me.

A fruit tree, definitely.  Apricot would be best, as it has a taproot, but if that is discouraged, I want a cherry tree.  Otherwise, any fruit or nut tree will do.

Dear 2020 Convention Committees: Timing sucks.

(...and don't think you're off the hook yet, High School Reunion Committee...)

A handful of years ago I wanted to go to my 25th high school reunion in Salt Lake City. As I live on the opposite side of the planet, to do such a thing would take a few years of saving and planning.  So save I did, and I worked on the planning.

Part of the planning was figuring out when the reunion would be. The year was easy enough to nail down, but the other details were more difficult in coming forth. At this time, not enough people were socially connected enough to make tracking down info easy.

I finally got a hold of the reunion committee, only to learn that there wasn't going to be a 25th HS reunion.

What? Who on earth thought that was a good idea?

Obviously, enough of the local muggles who thought that a reunion every ten years was sufficient, as they saw each other enough during the rest of the year not to bother. They all voted on it, not realising that the next reunion was supposed to be a significant one, and I'd been planning to attend for years.

REALLY?  You know I live in Australia, right? And I'm not the only overseas alumnus. (Obviously, the local yokels don't plan ahead like I do. Yes, I lay plans years in advance. What? It's a perfectly sensible thing to do.)

Feeling a bit put out at the provincial-ness of my fellow high school students, I used the money instead to go to WorldCon, which happened to be held in Australia that year.  A good time was had by all, and I did get to meet a whole lotta my peers that I previously only knew online.  Sooo wanted to attend another WorldCon, or its sisters.

Alas, life got in the way and I had to live it.

Nevertheless, I've been planning for the past ten years to attend my next high school reunion. Have already started saving.  Have started negotiating times. (I prefer early July, so I can bring my daughters during their winter school break, but they committee's considering early August. Again, the provincial thinking. They think everyone will be too busy on 4th July. Really? One... day.... and you can't plan a reunion within a two-week period?)  Have started everything I need to do, and hope I get things that aren't too far out of my way.

Then I received the news that WorldCon will be in New Zealand. In August.

At first, I thought that if the Reunion Committee didn't plan the reunion the same weekend as the con, I might be able to swing by EnZed on the way home. It's doable, and far out enough I might be able to budget for it... presuming the Reunion Committee can get something locked in before the airfares go up. (By the way, that's a six month window. I doubt they know that.)

Then, I learn that Romance Writers of Australia are holding their convention that year... in Perth.  

In August.

*sigh*.

Okay, If the Reunion Committee can manage to get the reunion settled in July (or early-early August), maybe I can then swing by New Zealand for WorldCon on the way home, then arrive in Perth just in time for RWA.  Party hard, and network like nuts.

*deep breath*  Today I learned that World Fantasy Convention will be held in Salt Lake City.  In November.  I've always wanted to go to a WorldFant, because that's my jam. 

If I didn't have everything else going on that year, I would have booked my tickets to Salt Lake and totally have gone. As it is, I don't know if I can. That really sucks. 

So yeah. All you convention committees, who have gone out of your way to arrange your convention schedules to fit my life...  Actually, you're not too bad. I appreciate all the hard work you've done to help further my career and allow me to attend conventions at a minimal cost to me. If it had been 2019 or 2021, I would have been all over that like baby oil on a bodice-ripper.

But as for those organising my 30th high school reunion?  You've got one chance to get things right. Kindly lift your eyes beyond your own scrub oak-strewn back yard, start thinking about life outside the Valley and consider that there are those of us who really, REALLY want to come to the reunion, who are sacrificing much (oh, sooo much!!) to reconnect with you.

I would really like if the reunion was sometime during the first half of July. Otherwise, late October/Early November looks good too.

August... really not a good time for me. Especially if you plan some tepid little picnic at some park and nothing else.

Back to School

In Australia, the school year begins in February (or late-late January). I'm not worried about my daughters as they're old hands at this. It feels like they've been going to school their whole lives.

Instead, I'm reminiscing on my eldest daughter's first day at high school.

She got into a excellent specialist school about an hour's train ride away. I think I was more nervous than she was! I went to school in a foreign country where I walked to school every day. And here I was tossing my firstborn onto the public transport system to send her off in the wide, wily world.

She was gonna be doing this every day. Without her momma.

Okay, that first day I went with her. Being the organised creature I was, I immediately spotted any other student with the same uniform she had.... granted, this wasn't until the half-way transfer. Our train was woefully short of her fellow schoolies, but there were plenty of other students going to other schools. (Perth is very much a commuter town, with lots of students going to specialist or private schools well outside their suburb. This pleases my meritocratic soul.)

Yes, my baby had to make a transfer from one train to the other. By herself. Every day.

Except for today, as I was going with her. Fortunately, the train we hopped to was the school special. It serviced four schools along its route, dropping off the Apples, the Mellies and so on, as they came to their schools.

This bus was crammed with plenty of students for my daughter's school, along with their parents doing the same thing as me.

Best thing to do: network with these other students, as chances are they'd be commuting every day together. Not that I'd have to worry. I learn from a few people that during the commute, the students all watched each other's backs. Also, the trains had extra guards to protect the students as they travelled.

When we got to school, I dropped of my diminutive daughter and asked her if she wanted me to pick her up after school and ride the trains home with her.

"No, I've got this."

And later that day, when I picked her up from the train station, I discovered that she did.

_______________________________
Her Grace is gonna enjoy the First Day of School sendoff, as there's not many of them left.

More state of the union

When I am quiet online, it is because I am busy in real life.

My latest newsletter went out a few weeks ago. If you haven't signed up for the Quarterly Newsletter, you missed out on some stuff I don't mention on the blog.

The Day Job is so-so, and I can't wait to transition to full-time author, but for now it provides a steady income without too much stress. Alas, it's not quiiite enough income to support my writing habit, so I've applied for a grant once more. Probably won't get it, as the grant-givers don't appear to support genre fiction. They seem to prefer the literary stuff. Is that prejudice on their part, overt or unconscious? They definitely support Australiana, which is something I expect them to do.

I am working on outlining two possible NaNoWriMo projects. Not sure which one I'll end up with. Depends on which one is ready to go on 1 Nov.  Are you doing NaNo this year? I'd love to hear your thoughts.

I know it's only October, but all the End of the Year stuff is happening. Australian school terms go from Feb to Dec, so Their Ladyships are in their fourth term. So much to think about, so much to do! I am looking forward to the end-of-year concerts.

Meanwhile, enjoy this brilliant Microwave Chocolate Cake in a Mug recipe from Cleobuttera. It is the best one I've found.


_____________________________
Her Grace has a perfect plan for a novel trilogy. Only thing it needs is money, or time. 

Being sick sucks

I'm sick.

I developed a chest infection last week. Despite the best of 21st Century medicine, it hasn't gone away yet. So annoying.

I was able to get my #PitchWars entry in before the illness consumed me. Thank goodness. Since then, I've been coughing so hard I'm surprised my eyeballs haven't popped out.

I wanted to start working on "The Charm of Truth" (and got a good 2.5K words done) before this chest infection claimed my full attention. Since then, it's a hassle to drag my pain-wracked body out of bed and carry on some semblance of real life.

At least Their Ladyships are old enough to feed themselves and The World's Most Boring Cat doesn't have to be taken for a walk.

Cold drinks feel better on my shredded throat than hot and the wheat bag is my friend.

Still, why couldn't I have some bog-standard rhinovirus instead?

_________________________
Her Grace hates those people who never get sick. 

November - Month of Insanity

By an act of serendipity, I got the whole of November off from the Day Job.  So glad I did. It's turned out to be a month of insanity.

Originally, I took the time off work for NaNoWriMo. Thought I'd be brilliant and see if I could crank out 100K words. Hah! I dream big, don't I?

I'd forgotten that I am also studying, am a Relief Society secretary and have the end-of-year stuff for the offspring as well.

I have one exam next week and another the week after. We have a new Relief Society presidency; I'm providing necessary momentum for them to get into the swing of things. I've got galley reviews for Marry Me. A close friend has a wedding. I've got a milestone birthday in the family. Thanksgiving and a Christmas party. Support for offspring and end-of-year stuff (as the Australian school year ends in December). Also the usual cleaning, house maintenance, lawnmowing, etc and rhinoviruses that have a terrible sense of timing.

Am I getting everything done?  Yep. Am I making the minimum NaNo goal of 50K?  Maybe. Am I dropping any balls? Sure, plenty of them, but only the ones I know will bounce.

I am learning the fine art of Saying No. Am also ditching the unnecessary bits of the Internet so I can have a few more minutes for the things that Must Be Done.

If it doesn't need to be done, it ain't gettin' done.

And I don't feel a single jot of guilt for it either.

_________________________________
Her Grace: accomplishments mean XP.

Regarding yesterday's funeral

I went to a family funeral yesterday.

Arthur "Jack" Johnson, age 92 was laid to rest. He was the patriarch of the Johnson family, to which my nieces belong. I was considered a close enough connection to be able to sit with the family and help attend the nieces while their father helped with the funeral and their mother mourned her grandfather.

I've known Jack, his wife Josie and their family for more than fifteen years and have been connected to them by marriage for nearly as long. Jack was one of those men with a great sense of humour, who instantly brightened a room when he entered it. His pockets were full of lollies and his heart full of jokes.

This is a guy who will be sorely missed.

An interesting thing about Latter-Day Saint funerals, they're  not as grief-stricken as you'd expect. It comes from the Latter-Day Saint beliefs regarding an afterlife and of the eternal nature of family connections. Sure, you'll miss someone when they're gone, but it's not a forever thing. Families are forever. That's what's forever. Not separation, not death.

I thought it was lovely that the great-granddaughters wore pink. Grandma Josie wore green, in which she always looks good. Aunt Margaret, who couldn't be at the funeral because she was on the other side of the planet, sent along a video so she could be part of it. All the men wore a sprig of rosemary for remembrance; I had to explain its significance to a niece, because she thought they'd all lost the flowers to their boutonnieres.

The music was lovely, the jokes were appropriate and the floral tributes were tastefully nice.

Bowra & O'Dea did the funeral and they did a nice, respectful job.

After the funeral we went to a beautiful cemetery for the interment. There were peacocks, which delighted all the grandchildren. For Grandma Josie and a few of the more pregnant members of the family there were chairs.

A few good words were said and the grave was dedicated as per Latter-Day Saint ritual. Then, to some very Jack-appropriate music, the coffin was lowered into the grave, and the family got to toss in rose petals.

Then the tarps were removed from the gravedirt and the men of the family didn't just toss in a symbolic shovel. They got to completely fill in the grave. I thought this was a lovely, cathartic practice. I want this at my funeral.

Lives begin and lives end. I aim to do the best I can in between to make sure my life has as positive an impact as Jack's did.

Rest well, Pappy. We'll see each other again (just, not that soon).

_________________________________
Her Grace is all funeralled out.

State of the Union Address

I inhabit many worlds. Since I've only got one of me (having failed to twin myself or clone myself), I can only be in one place at a time. So sometimes I must eschew one world for another.

This has been happening a lot lately, so I thought I'd share with you the worlds I inhabit.

Online: I've been a netizen for more than 25 years. That's a long time to have been online. At one point in my life, nearly all my social life, personal achievements and more were located online. There's a couple of times my online life has interfered in my Real Life. About five years ago I took an Internet Fast, where I went dark on the Internet for at least six month, possibly a little longer. No Livejournal, no Facebook, not even email. There are Amish who had a stronger online presence than I had for a while.

Eventually I found my way back. The Internet is too ingrained in 21st Century life for one to completely avoid it. (My mother-in-law tries, but it even seeks her out.)

Still, when push comes to shove, my online life is the first one to get ditched. I have no qualms over ignoring Facebook or Twitter or blogging or even email if RL needs my attention more.

And Real Life consists of...

Family: I am a mother. I take my calling seriously. I have a husband and children. They feature strongly in my 20 Year Plan and my Thousand Year Plan, so ultimately, my focus is on them. If push comes to shove, Family trumps all.

Since nearly all of our blood family lives on the other side of the planet, we've got some adopted family over here. I stick up for them nearly as much as I'd stick up for my own children.

Work: I've got a Daye Jobbe and a Career. If I am contractually obligated to one or the other, I will not let something else get in the way. I take keeping promises seriously. If you ask me to do something during a time when I should be at work or working on a contract, I will say no.

Religion: My faith defines who I am and why I make the choices I do. It helps form my brand and guides various choices in my life. My religion supports my 5 Year Plan, my 20 Year Plan, and my Thousand Year Plan. It has no opinion one way or the other regarding my 50 year plan.

Everything else fits into my life when I have time or space. If I don't, then it doesn't. Please don't be terribly offended. I respect my priorities.


So yeah. I've been really busy. I can't say I've dropped too many balls, but have gently put them aside. Some I may never pick up again.

__________________________
Her Grace realises that life's too short to:

• watch dull reruns
• read boring books
• watch bad movies
• listen to stupid people
• not work towards a Plan
• eat junk food

Back to School

Did I tell you? I've gone back to school, specifically, I'm pursuing a MS. Thought I'd let you know, as this does reduce the amount of time I have to blog. So, what this means for me is this:

Good Things about Going Back to School

1. Yay, education! I've always been a proponent of education. (Remember my dreams of a scholarship fund? This is part of why.)
2. My major is such a cooool subject. I've always been fascinated by it since I was a wee tot. Now I get to immerse in it without guilt.
3. After I finish my degree, I will be Her Grace, Heidi Kneale BAMS! (Amusa)
4. The nice thing about post-grad work is that you tend to work on cutting-edge projects. As in, we didn't know this info existed three months ago. In fact, everything is turning over so new, my textbook edition was printed this year, and may already be out of date.

Bad Things about Going Back to School

1. Tuition. Sorry, but Australia doesn't do free education anymore. Alas. However, I am allowed to defer tuition until I make over a certain amount. Meanwhile, I'll have to source some scholarships, crowdfunding or other alternative means for sourcing funds.
2. Time suck. Yeah. This semester I'm only in one unit, and you won't believe the time it sucks out of my Bucket o' Time. I spend hours on a single assignment.
3. All the cool stuff I want to talk about is either not of any interest to everyone else around me in RL or so far above their heads they can't keep up. Does add to an air of isolation.
4. Cuts into my writing time. (Okay, it also cuts into my housecleaning time and my workout time and my sit-around-and-do-nothing time, but I'm not too worried about that.)  At least I'm only committed to a semester's work, and not year-round (like the day job, that mixed blessing of timesuck and moneygiver).

_________________________
Her Grace had an opportunity to go back to school for a subject she loved and under the conditions that suited her best. So she took it.

Epiphany -or- "How bad do you want it"

Several weeks ago I had an epiphany. Glad I did.* My epiphany was this: how bad did I want to be a writer?

It is a question every writer, from the “I’d like to write a novel someday” aspirant to Mary Falkner, needs to ask herself.

How bad? How really, really bad, do you want it?

My answer: really, really bad.

The second question: So, what’s stopping you?

Don’t think this answer is a cop-out, or someone calling you on your lack of faith. It is an honest-to-good introspection. If you are not writing prolifically every day, why not? What stops you from sitting down and cranking out draft until you pass out from sheer exhaustion?

Well, the need for sleep, for one. Young children who need their mom. The need to eat, the day job to pay the bills, other necessary obligations (dishes? Nah). There will always be things in your life that will be more important than writing.

But what about the Internet? Is it more important than your writing? How about games? Television? What little time-wasters are you indulging in when you could be writing?

Next question: Why are you letting these time-wasters get in the way of your writing? Don’t let this question fool you. It’s not saying, “get off your lazy butt and write!” It’s asking for the reasons behind why you chose to watch television, or play Angry Birds or Facebook instead of writing.

Why was your desire to catch up on “2 Broke Girls” more enticing than finishing a scene? Whatever the reason, perhaps it’s something you must address. Did you choose to flop in front of the television because you were tired? Once in a while is okay. All the time is not. Examine your logic. (See question #1. How bad do you want to write? If you answered truly with “really, really bad”, your soul will find the energy from somewhere, somehow, to write. Only when you fall asleep on your keyboard, or your spousal unit demands you retire to bed, should you acknowledge your tiredness (as in, “Where did that yawn come from?”).)

Want it bad enough? It will drive you. Drive you forward, drive to completion, drive you to another plane of existence, drive you spare, to distraction, to go mad.

But you will always come back to it, because if you want it truly, madly, deeply, you cannot help but come back. You can’t not write.

Maybe writing is not as important as you want it to be. That’s okay. But do be honest with yourself. If you don’t want it so bad your eyeballs turn yellow, accept that, and be content with being a weekend writer and the occasional published short story. There is nothing wrong with that.

Unless you really want it so bad, dominatrices send you their cards. If so, acknowledge just how important it is and give in to your highest dream.

*Epiphanies are always straightforward and direct. But you can’t rush ‘em. This irks me. Five minutes ago, I was wondering, “Why didn’t this epiphany come five years ago, when I really needed it, or even ten years ago? They come when they are ready to come, and when you are ready for them. It’s some sort of juxtaposition of synergy thing. What I am doing now, I wanted to do five/ten/twenty years ago. But I didn’t. I’m still not sure why, but I wasn’t ready. I wish I was. Imagine all the mighty things I could have accomplished! But I got it now, and I acted upon it right away. I berate myself for letting me be so stupid and lazy and not believing in my dream enough. But then sometimes I need to learn the hard way. This time, I’m hoping to stick to my guns. I’m going to tap into that bit of me deep down that really REALLY wants this. I’m going to be bold. I’m not going to shirk. __________________________________________
Her Grace has cranked out thirty thousand words since the epiphany nearly three weeks ago, despite the day job, her family and church callings. As a result, her Facebook page is sparse, her TV recordings are piling up and Their Ladyships are learning independence immersion-style. She’ll be looking for a few good beta-readers soon.

Thoughts of a professional writer

I took the first two weeks of November off from my Day Job to be a professional writer. I've never done anything like this before.

Yeah, I've had great swathes of time on my hands before, and dabbled a bit at my writing career, in between doing all sorts of other stuff, but I never approached it then as I am now.

For the past two weeks, I told everyone and especially myself that I was a professional writer.

And then I approached it as a professional would.

Every morning I'd get up, have breakfast, see Their Ladyships off to school, then I would sit down, fire up the laptop and get to work. I made goals, I set targets, I had a deadline imposed on me by someone else and I made myself accountable to them.

And you know what? I got some serious work done. With the exception of the Sabbath and one day I told a friend I'd help her with something, I've been pulling in about 4K words a day. That's serious mojo. I also had time left over to devote to editing other projects and sending out a few things to publishers.

And all done before Their Ladyships got home from school.

First few days was easy. Last few days was hard, as I found myself wanting to rebel against the structure I'd imposed. But yesterday, I gathered my courage, sat down, and did my wordage. Today, same thing.

Next week I go back to work, "full-time school" hours. I go back to squeezing in writing when I can, between the Day Job, the Extracurriculars and the Family. I'm going to miss being a professional writer. I don't know if I'm going to like the fly-by-night moonlighting style of being a writer, even though most of my published mates work that way.

Treating writing as a professional day job was eye-opening.

I've not done the like before, but after a week and a half of serious BIC, I'm thinking that yeah, maybe I can do this sort of thing on a more permanent basis.

I've just got to figure out how to get me some more of that.