Mortaine’s Blog

Remember how I mentioned I hadn’t done any housework all week?

This morning, I couldn’t stand it anymore– I ran the dishwasher. This brings the dish-clutter on the counter down to handwash dished: all of the pots and pans, 2 pilsner glasses and a handful of knives. Whew! If I do a counter-swipe and unload the dishwasher tomorrow, I’ll have done some real good in the kitchen.

Oh, and John took out some Betadyne the other night and left the bottle sitting on my kitchen “hot spot” (the place on my counter that always collects clutter. Need to fix that, and soon!

Living room… still haven’t gotten rid of the stacks of stuff in there. Need to do that…. late for Flylady, perhaps this weekend.

Tomorrow starts the Dining Room and Front Entrance, which is pretty much the same as the living room in my house.

Next week, the Kitchen. Continuing the declutter-fest, I think I will tackle the hot-spot counter and the drawers next to the stove, which are all very full and cluttery.

I practiced tonight: Sheebeg Sheemore (O’Carolan tune), Jesu Joy, Minuet in D, and the very challenging Pachelbel’s Canon. I have no idea if the Canon is reachable for me or not– seems awfully not, right now.
Dulcimer Day is this Saturday! I don’t know if I’m going to the concert on Friday night as well– it could be a lot of fun! I’m hoping I can pick up a capo while I’m there– I think there are going to be a few tables of wares, and a capo that isn’t made out of a wooden block and a rubber-band would be nice (not that I have one of those, either).

Um, in other news….

Mom’s birthday was yesterday, and I finally spoke with her on the phone today. Yay! Happy Birthday, Mom!

Had another productive day, this time getting home at 8:30 instead of 10– Yay!

Dropped some things off at Goodwill. The list of things they won’t take is irritating, because the majority of my freebie stack is on that list. Annoying, really.

One item in my stack is a very nice silver goblet– it’s a great little piece because it’s an upside-down stag’s head for the base– makes an excellent vessel for a pagan. Since I’m not a pagan and the particular “god” who gave it to me turned out to be a fucking lunatic, I think I’d rather give it to someone who won’t ever use it in ritual, thanks. Even if it’s all hooey, negative vibes are not welcome in Circle.
Working on Cass’ story on the laptop– very angsty. I need to work on the psychological bendiness of the piece; it has a completely different tone from the Cass/Kippen piece, even though it follows immediately after it, sort of a companion piece. Also, it reveals something amazing about Cass, and I want to hit that note “just right” and not lose it.

OK, that’s it for now. Good night.

Oh, yeah– and anyone thinking “Gee, she never writes anything of substance” needs to take a look at the early days of my journal; I rarely say anything of substance, people. I just kind of rambly until it’s stopping time.

I came home early yesterday and proceeded to fall asleep on the bed for an hour and a half. I was so tired!

We saw Legally Blonde 2 last night. I’m glad I saw it– it was cute. There were weak points, including the absurd ugliness of her 2 best-friend sorority sisters. But otherwise, it was a cute movie.

I finished Karen’s novel and will have things to discuss with her on Thursday.

I practiced.

I have done no housework all week– I wonder why? Maybe I just burned out a bit last week on the office. Anyway, I need to get rid of the things in the LR– I will make doing that my goal this week.

I did not reach my mother yesterday, which was her birthday, but I did try to call her, at least– she was gone all day.

I want to crawl into a cave today.

But I have to work, instead.

Anyone trying to reach me today or tomorrow will be disappointed.

I got home at 10 tonight after a long, but productive day at work.

Tomorrow promises to be the same.

Prompted by: http://www.webcom.com/wordings/artofwrite/poetrygenerator.html

In the closet of corruption the voices spit,
The winds of fury blow, effortless futile.
Loneliness howls at the door, a wolf in wolf’s clothes–
A pit of despair, of desperation, of despite
Hangs beneath your bowels.

Within you, there is nothing pure
Nothing good, nothing right, nothing fair
Nothing, in short, nothing.
No thing hangs inside your chest, fluttering
Its red-pink warmth gliding over you, a blush
–An innocent blush!–
Too white against the skin, the knife so silver.
A razor blade release.