bogwitch64: (Default)
(I posted this as a comment on asakiyume's LJ, and remembering it always causes me to laugh and cry at the same time. I had to share it here.)

You just never know what you'll do in the heat of the moment. Here's a story for you--I took my then sick, 2 year old son to the doc, in whose office he pitched a fit for nearly an hour. When I left, he was in his carseat no more than thirty seconds and was asleep. After his ordeal, I didn't want to wake him, but I had to get his perscription filled. So I left him and his four year old sister in the car to dash into the pharmacy and drop off the scrit. Bad call, I know--but this was the 80's and I was dumb. Still, I was gone all of about a minute. Dashed in, dropped off, dashed back out to find my car GONE.

Only it wasn't gone. It was rolling down the parking lot towards an extremely busy intersection where people were coming off an exit from a highway. Somehow, my sick, sleeping two year old got out of his car seat, into the front seat, and managed to take off the extremely complicated emergency break AND put the car into neutral.

In the back seat, my four year old opened the window and cried, "MOMMY" I shouted, "Get on the floor!" and chased after the car. I CHASED AFTER THE CAR! I managed to grasp the door handle as it was picking up speed, about 20 feet from the street, and I pulled that f**ker to a stop. Yes, I stopped a moving car with my brute strength just as the nose went into the intersection! Ha!

I yanked open the door, gathered my babies to my breast, and realized I'd lost my pants somewhere back in the parking lot. Yup--it was a sight to behold!

And can you believe there were actually people who thought it wise to honk their horns because my car was blocking traffic?? Yeah--don't mess with a mama when her babies are in danger.
bogwitch64: (Default)
My son's band, Fins, got another stellar review; this one from AwkwardSound, an alternative music blog. I'm just so proud, and so happy that these boys who've been playing together for so long are finally getting the praise and recognition they deserve.
buzzFINS_zpsd5a7d228

(my son is the one sitting on the steps)

Proud mama, part deux--Chris is two months heroin-free today. :) And he has blue hair. (Yes, he does own shirts. He just doesn't like wearing them.)
blue
bogwitch64: (Scott)
The hills of New Milford are on fire with a mighty noise. John Lydon, Scott Bowers-Defino, and Nate Sadowski are Fins, a band formed in the wake of several lauded experimental music endeavors. Lawnmower is a four song EP that introduces us to them with high fives instead of clammy handshakes...

Read the whole SPECTACULAR review here.
bogwitch64: (Default)
Kind of eclectic bag of treats today, but, first up:
This month happens to be Heroines Of Fantasy's birthday month. We're a year old now, and celebrated by inviting a new author to join our small coven of Heroines. Come on over and see who it is, leave us a birthday wish, and stay tuned for some great stuff coming down the pike.
Happy Birthday Heroines of Fantasy!

Second on the list of things that make a post:
Many years ago, in another life, I had a car. A Mercury Comet Caliente--1965. I loved that car. My late husband loved that car. It was mint, complete with a pristine white leather interior. It needed some body work, but nothing horrendous. My late husband's paternal side of the family are car-people. The lot of them collect, restore and show cars. This was to be OUR show car. Unfortunately, Brian died before we ever got to restoring the Comet. My father-in-law did it for me after his son's death. Gads, the car was glorious--but unreliable. I couldn't drive it in the rain. The spark-plugs would get wet, the car would turn off, and wouldn't start again until they dried off. Sometimes the gas pedal stuck. Forget about driving in the snow. When I married Frank we decided it really wasn't a good family car. I didn't want to part with it! I loved it so much. Thankfully, so did my brother-in-law: Brian's brother, Tom.

He has taken care of that car like it was his child, and showed it many times over the years, in memory of his brother. Brian's last paycheck stub still sits in the glove box, where I put it all those years ago. OUR Comet has earned many awards over the years. Want to see?

1965 Mercury Comet Caliente )
Last up:
GrandWilliam is officially a year old! We had a marvelous day, yesterday. Out in the yard all day, family, friends--all my kids home at the same time!!! I finished it off last night by sitting beside a fire out back, all by myself, listening to the crickets and the owls. Peace. The perfect end to a perfect day.

Happy Birthday, my beautiful boy!
bogwitch64: (Default)
Ken did a really fabulous post for us over on Heroines of Fantasy: Writing the Other. It's kind of scary having it up there, because this topic is one that has induced flame-wars all over the internet.

Come share your thoughts...if you dare!

On another note--I've been doing some processing this past week. Lots of heart-trembly, soul-squishing processing. My boy is 31 days sober--happily, and not reluctantly this time. I'm starting to feel hopeful, and that scares the shit out of me. Living life waiting for that other shoe to drop is no way to live, but letting myself hope only to have it all come crumbling down around me again is just--my stomach clenches at the thought.

But August is a starting point for me: the beginning of my favorite part of the year. As I said on [livejournal.com profile] queenoftheskies LJ yesterday, the days are warm, the nights are cool and full of cricketsong. Then comes September, October, Halloween--the wheel turns and colors creep out of the abundance of green around here. Cricketsong dwindles, fades back to distant coyotes and owls heard only now and again. November, Thanksgiving, the wheel turns to December, and the earth's deep sleep, Christmas. This time of year is why I can never live anywhere but the wilds of New England. It fills me with such joy, so maybe I can hope? Maybe I can squish this constant fear into a little blob of yuck and tuck it somewhere out of the way? Maybe?

Anyway, those are my thoughts this morning before I start work for the day. Come see us over at HoF. Should be a great discussion.
bogwitch64: (Default)
It is again Monday, and what a Monday! It's hot and muggy, and I'm cool as the curious oyster I am in my air-conditioned house. I hate air-conditioning, except on days like today when there's no escaping the WET otherwise. A tropical flower, I am not. Lupine, that's what I'd be. 
lupine

Up on Heroines of Fantasy this week is a beautiful post by Karin Gastreich about sisterhood. ([livejournal.com profile] readthisandweep, I'm looking your way!) It's gorgeous and it made me cry a little. Give it a read, and share a sisterhood that has touched you.

I've been remiss about my livejournal lately. It's a small miracle I'm not in a padded cell, arms strapped around me in a sturdy white coat. In the midst of my son's relapse--that began the day of my launch party and continued through the next two weeks--I had, had to get an edit in to Eric. I had already gotten three extensions for the author, and it was a do-it-or-die situation. Strangely enough, it kept me sane. It made me concentrate. It made me step out of the horror and fear. But it did sap every bit of brain-power I had to survive those couple of weeks, and it is only now that I'm feeling even slightly less frazzled enough to expand that brain-power to something like normal capacity.

As far as the boy goes, we seem to be on a better track. Things fell apart for him when he was still quite vulnerable, things I won't go into. Suffice it to say that the network of support we/he thought he had turned out to be either false, or crumbling. When it starts to go, there's rarely any stopping it, but this time, it didn't come to a life-and-death crisis. He stepped back off that edge. He said, "What the FUCK am I doing?" and has done a complete turn-around. HIMSELF, and not under the threat of rehab or hospitalization. The chip on his shoulder he came home from rehab with is mostly knocked off. After everything he has been through, he would not accept he couldn't overcome this on his own. At one point last week, he said to me, (referencing the Serenity Prayer minus the god-part)  "I don't have a problem with the courage, or the wisdom. It's the serenity part I have a hard time with." And damn, if that isn't the truth. He reminds me of those fear-aggressive dogs I used to see on The Dog Whisperer; he fights and he snaps and he growls and fights more, so terrified he can't help himself. A couple of weeks ago, when he stepped back from that ledge, he finally realized it was time to let go, to let others who have been there before catch him and carry him until he can carry himself. He is still held aloft on those shoulders. Scary as it is to trust people themselves still recovering, it's kind of magical to witness.

I'm not fool enough to think this is it; but I do have reason to hope now. Curious oyster, lupine, sparklequeen--whatever it is I am, optimist tops them all.


bogwitch64: (Default)
Many things, that's what. The first of which is--MY BOY IS HOME! Yes, he's home, and we're all very happy--happy to see him so well and so NEW. That's the only way I can describe it. He's so full of joy, life, and hope. I haven't seen him so relaxed and focused in years. I know this is only the first leg of the journey, but he's made a really good start of it. As I said to the hubs yesterday, when we went to get him--and forgive the dire analogy, but drug addiction is no less dire: It's like he had cancer. Now the tumor is out. It's time for chemo. And for now, enough said.

Second thing--Alison Goodman (author of Eon and Eona) is our guest blogger over on Heroines of Fantasy. I met Alison at World Fantasy this year. She's beyond fabulous, and so is her work. Eon won the 2008 Aurealis Award for Best Fantasy Novel. Her first novel, Singing the Dogstar Blues, won an Aurealis for Best Young Adult Novel. Come see what she has to say about research, and getting the details right.

Third thing--I am not a writer this week. I am an editor. Part of me is bummed not to be able to get to work on all the exciting stuff that came out of last week. Part of me is glad to let it stew a few days. But this edit needs to be done and back to the author by the end of the week. Down to the wire on solo-edit #2! I'm excited. I love this job. And if the rest of it reads as well as it has so far, I might even get it done before the end of the week.

Hope you all had a fabulous weekend! I know I did.
bogwitch64: (Default)
At least, that's the plan. I just made my iced tea. While it's brewing I'm checking LJ. Then I'm going upstairs to start writing my new book. By the gods of Olympus, I will have a "normal" day!

My son is doing well. He's responding to the program, and is making some friends. Big, beautiful and charming as he is, he has never had many of those. Getting cut out of socialization at fifteen didn't do good things for his confidence or his social skills. That's part of what he's learning while he's away; maybe the most important part.

Life is quiet here right now. The oldest daughter out in her own life, the youngest in France, only our older son remains in the house. He's just thrilled with all the attention we're giving his life at the moment, having no one else to focus on. ;) Seriously, life is quiet just now. I don't know if I'll be able to say that next week, or even tomorrow, but--moment by moment. That's all I have to give it.

A few links:
Heroines of Fantasy: wherein I extol the magic that is Viable Paradise Workshop.
Finder for 99 cents on Amazon
Finder for 99 cents on B&N

The sale started on Saturday, and goes through today (though you never know!) Most of Hadley Rille's books are on sale for the April Fool's Day price of 99 cents. Get them while the getting's good!


THANK YOU ALL!!
For the hugs, the songs, the poems, the general love and support you've given me over the last few weeks. It truly means the world to me.
bogwitch64: (Default)
And as always, life is crazy here. I'm hoping to get a good post in tomorrow, but I wanted to put a couple of things up here. First and foremost--Sandra McDonald is up on Heroines of Fantasy. Sensible Clothing for Heroines. Kim's post last week got our guest thinking, and that's always a good thing. Another perspective on the issue, and one that both reflects and contradicts Kim's. Interesting stuff. Go see for yourself.

My boy's treatment was a success--so far. He's virtually pain free. Now it's clean up time with all the other shit still spewing out of life's sphincter. One step at a time. One step at a time.

Lucy Lazarus, Zombie Kitteh looks like she's starting to fail again, which is why I'm in a rush this morning. We're off to the vet! Again. More soon, I hope.

My boy

Mar. 20th, 2012 03:21 pm
bogwitch64: (Chris)
He texted me a little while ago, fresh out of his second treatment. "It feels like a normal leg, mom. Not 100%, but mostly normal." And he cried. He's been crying a lot. That's partially to do with the anaethesia, but it's also because there is hope he's afraid of hoping. "I just want to be ALL better," he told me this morning--the first tears of the day. "I want to be happy. I want to be able to enjoy a walk with my girlfriend instead of forcing myself to pretend it doesn't hurt like hell."

All the chaos, all the drugs, all the anger--it starts and ends in pain. I can't imagine his desperation. If this works, maybe the desperation will ease up, and let him be happy; for the first time, truly happy.
bogwitch64: (Default)
Some breakthroughs were made. Things are not "good" yet, but they're better. My brain is working, so that's good. I reorganized life a little to help me cope with the current chaos. I have two goals--continue aiming the blowdryer at the clouds obscuring my sun, and finishing BTG by tomorrow.

These things WILL be done.

Thank you all for the kind wishes, support and love. The Sparkle Queen may be down, but she's not out.
bogwitch64: (Default)
They just keep rolling around, dutifully following Sunday. It feels like it's always Monday or Friday. The rest of the week blurs into writing, laundry, cooking, phone calls. The weekends whiz by on bursts of family and errands and those few, slowed-down hours of date night. This week, I had a date night with not just fabulous-Frankie, but my two sons. The four of us went out for dinner at our favorite place, then across the street to see Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close. I was one of those rare nights when all is right with the world, and nothing can spoil it.

I need more of those slowed-down hours; I'll even take some moments. There's always something happening to deal with, or about to happen to prepare for, or just happened to recover from. It's no wonder I get so tweaked when, for any reason, my Saturday night date night gets shanghaied.

Last week, we got the impossible news that the treatment we thought our son would have to wait two and a half years to receive is scheduled for March. THIS March. It means scrambling to come up with the money from that magical somewhere, scheduling and getting him to a whole bunch of tests he has to pass first, and keeping him afloat mentally and physically until the time comes (the constant pain does take its toll.) The excitement is overwhelming. The anticipation is fraught with anxiety. We take it a day at a time and hope that, after it all, he's finally pain free. After so many treatments that were supposed to work, I have to admit that I'm skeptical, but I'm also an optimist that will only allow that skepticism to flash through, never take root.

I'm taking a slowed-down moment to appreciate all the doctors and assistants have done to make this possible. I'm taking a slowed-down moment to bask in the hope that after six and a half years, this is finally it for my boy. I'm taking a slowed-down moment to really acknowledge all the good stuff I have going on in my life right now, from this treatment, to my launch at ConQuest where I get to see so many friends face-to-face; to my younger daughter's opportunity to study a semester in France, to my older son's successes in a life topsy-turvy until recently, and to my older daughter's amazing change in life; to my darling grandson. I'm taking a slowed-down moment to appreciate the dinner the hubs and I are going to have tonight in our beautiful home on the snowy river, and that my little cat is not only alive, but her ornery self.

The moment will speed up again. The washing-machine repair guy is on his way. But I'm taking this one, and let me tell you, it feels goooood.

bogwitch64: (Default)
You know, I'm not even going to say anything about my weekend other than I survived it. That says enough! Less is more. Show don't tell. Yup, sounds good to me!

It was so nice to find Kim Vandervort's very relaxing, reflective post up on Heroines of Fantasy. It gave me some perspective, and I felt all the tense muscles in my shoulders relaxing. Yes, yes, yes...no matter what is going on, we need some time to just read. We need time in a place removed from our present, and for the lot of us, that typically means a good book. Go on and have a look. Let us know how YOU will be relaxing during this season of reflection.
bogwitch64: (Default)
I came across this fabulous post by novelist (and VP instructor extraordinaire!) Debra Doyle earlier this morning: The E-publishing Revolution. Go have a read. You'll be nodding your head sagely, and chuckling softly just as I was. :)


On another note--forgive me my abundance of links lately. I have little to say. Pollyanna, me--I make like all is well and happy if chaotic, when in fact, all is not well and happy--though still chaotic. As I've heard said recently, a parent can only be as happy as her least happy child. That's where I am right now, in the thick with my least happy.

There are many good things in life--my writing life has exploded in the good sort of way, my youngest daughter is preparing for a semester at Montpelier University in France, my grandbabyboy is heathly and thriving in his stay-at-home daddy's care, eldest daughter is adjusting back into the workforce, elder son is doing well--huzzah!--in school. Younger son is the least happy, once again. And there you have it.

More when my brain will allow.
bogwitch64: (Default)
Well, ain't that a strange kettle of fish. Apparently, she was already on the mend when I brought her in, though it's a good thing I did. She hadn't started acting strangely until yesterday morning, MAYBE the night before, when she didn't beg at the table during dinner. Anyway--she's extremely anemic. Why? No idea. It's not any sort of cancer or bacteria, no AIDS. He knows what it ISN'T, just not what it is. He gave her a shot of vitamin b12, rehydrated her, and today, she's her old self. But why did she get so sick??

Basically, her blood vessels exploded internally and she lost a lot of blood without us ever knowing it. Why? How? WHAT??? Not a clue. He said he's seen a lot of strange cases this summer, but this is by far one of the strangest.

I have to bring her back next week to recheck her levels, make sure they're still elevating, and then hope it NEVER happens again!

Thanks for all your well-wishing. It made my day a whole lot less stressful.

UFFDA

Jul. 15th, 2011 04:03 pm
bogwitch64: (Default)

147,899, Yup, you read that right. One, four, seven, eight, nine, nine. One hundred forty seven thousand, eight hundred ninety nine words. (Yes, I know there are supposed to be hypens in there. I don't feel like putting them in. So there.) And it's not finished. Next week might be it, but I'm not counting any chickens before they're hatched...or words before they're typed.

Another huge reveal, this one a bit more poignant, and with as many secrets left untold as told. Not everyone is going to be privy to everything at the end of this story. Some characters will just have to stay in blissful dark, while others have unwanted truths thrust at them. Not everyone is going to end this story where they want to be, but they will be where they need to be. No, I have no plans to write a third book in this world. Not yet, at any rate. As far as things stand now, the stories have been told. Well, nearly.

On a more personal note, my grandson (William-to-be) currently weighs 5.5 pounds! And the docs tell my daughter and her husband that he will probably gain another 4. Well, well, well--it seems I'll finally be avenged for trying to push her 9 lb. 11oz. 23 inch long body out of me! (Key word being tried--she was a C-section...after 18 hours of labor. Little brat.)

On other matters, I'll just say this: One day at a time. Thanks, all, for being there for me. Your kind words always help.


bogwitch64: (Default)

Driving too fast down a road I've traveled a thousand and one times before, on my way to avert yet more catastrophe in my young son's life, I caught a light too yellow to zip through so I hit the brakes, I tapped my foot, I pounded my steering wheel, I might have cursed, I did, then out of the corner of  my eye I saw
a sunflower growing in
an abandoned greenhouse once
a garden nursery
Behind the cloudy, year-dirty plastic tall
and bright
and facing the sun it gave me pause it
made me weep because
No matter the hardship the chaos the pain or neglect or odds
Life continues and
it's beautiful.


bogwitch64: (Default)

I kept my promise to myself. I wrote today. I kept up with LJ today. I'm trying to resume some sort of "normal" existence, though the definition of normal is going to change drastically going into the future.

As with all huge, life-changing crisis, there is before the event, and after. From last week forward, there can only be an AFTER. Time to readjust and find a new normal.

I still have no real diagnosis for my son, though there are leanings. He won't be home for some days yet. I want him home, but not until he can return and be safe. He's going to have to find his new normal too. There is no going back to the before-times.

The good thing is knowing. Before, there was only chaos and frustration because no one could understand the things he was doing and why. I'm no fool. There will still be chaos, but that's nothing new around here. The difference now will be that we will have a path to follow OUT of that chaos, instead of roiling with it the best we can.

My son is much better than he was. Still not great, but so much better. He improves daily. There is no reason not to hope this will continue. He is now the same young man he was before his hospitalization; only our perception of him and his quirks have changed. Again, it's adjustment. I like my routines, but I'm good at adjustment.

His dad and I are bringing him a home cooked dinner tonight. Seafood salad (made by mom) marinated in lemon and olive oil (and garlic and crushed red pepper!) over mixed greens and a loaf of crusty bread. It's something of home, at least. I hate leaving him there, knowing how badly he wants to come home.

Soon, my darling boy. Soon.


UFFDA

Jun. 24th, 2011 03:03 pm
bogwitch64: (Default)
Yes, there is a writerly update for this week from hell. Believe it or not, I got quite a bit done the couple of days I actually sat to write. I got a HUGE bit of climax-related detail in. That's what this whole part I'm working on now is--all the details that lead up to the big bang, so every time I push through another one, it's a big thing--for me, anyway.

A Time Never Lived is a bit more complicated than Finder. When I wrote Finder, I purposely kept the plotlines simpler, because the novel I wrote before it was so dang complicated I still don't know how I'll ever get it below 150K (but I'll try!) For A Time Never Lived, I decided not to shy away from the complications I love, but instead learn how to incorporate them without getting too entangled. So far, so good, but weaving all these threads together here at the end of it all is difficult. Satisfying, but difficult.

Some VERY fun news, it looks like I am officially part of the summer reading program for a high school in a neighboring town. Students have signed up to read Finder as their summer reading book. I wrote the discussion questions for them yesterday. There's a Wikispaces page dedicated to it, where the kids will hold discussions with the teacher. I'll be able to interact with them too. Then, August 1st, there's a Meet the Author get together at the library. See? FUN!

Lastly, my son is still in the hospital. The doc feels he'll make a good recovery; it'll just take time. She expects he'll be able to come home next week, but will need on-going outpatient therapy to keep him on the right path. Again, sorry to be vague, but I still have no firm diagnosis other than he is experiencing a psychotic episode. The hows and whys and where-do-we-go-from-heres are still up in the air.

Thank you all for the good wishes, kind words, and support over the last few days. I miss reading all your posts, and have promised myself that Monday is going to see my return to doing so. It has been a non-stop frenzy of fielding phone calls, lapsing into despair, losing myself in writing, and generally holding my brain together. I'm the one everyone depends upon to stay strong. I'm the glue here, and my family is in desperate need of the super-heavy-duty kind. My chemical compounds strengthen as we speak.

And in my never-ending-battle to pull a positive out of the worst negatives, I've lost 17 pounds over the course of the last couple of weeks. Diet and exercise be damned--stress and anxiety will shed those pounds faster than anything else on the face of the planet!


Have a sparkling weekend!

Thank you

Jun. 23rd, 2011 10:40 am
bogwitch64: (Default)
I'm printing up all your well wishes and keeping them in my pocket. I really am. I can't thank you all enough for the waves of love coming my way. I need it desperately.

My boy is safe, if still not right. More than that, I just don't know. For the moment, having him safe is all that matters.

Eric wrote me last night, after I told him the sparkle queen has lost her sparkle, and told me that'll never be true. What I put out, I get back. Thank goodness I've put a lot of sparkles out into the world! So as long as I keep sending them out, they'll keep coming back to me, right? So...


I'll keep my sparkle sparkling, no matter what. Thank you for sending it back at me.

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