That's a Wrap

One year ago we were in this exact place- well, except I was on the other side of the room, but still.

It's been a good day- we took a trip down to Finnriver Cidery, where we bundled Neeps within an inch of his life and wandered around in the cold and the mud while clutching our ciders and glaring at garrulous geese. And then we sensibly got ourselves into the heated tent and ate some delicious brauts, and drank still more cider. And brandy. And then there was a giant fish?

Now the boychild is asleep, and we're debating if we should celebrate Eastern New Year or Central New Year, but either way we're pretty sure we're NOT going to make it to Pacific New Year, because we are old and there is a lot of delicious mead and brandy to be drunk.

Here's to a brighter 2017!

Anticipation

The year is winding down, and we are packing up to return to where we were when it first unfurled: Chris and Lara's house.  I'm looking forward to a long weekend of sipping drinks by the fire and watching chickens and frolicking in the snow with my now-one-year-old.  My what a difference twelve months make!

I have to admit- I'm also looking forward to being done with this 366 Project.  It will be nice not to feel the pressure to Produce for Public Consumption all the time- I'll finally get the chance to dive deep into rewrites on Oathbreaker, and start splashing around For Serious in a few other projects I've only just barely sketched out in my brain.

One of the things I've been working on lately is the 2017 Business Plan for my office- and today I got inspired to make a 2017 Personal plan, complete with a vision statement, goals, objectives, and strategies.  I'm pretty pleased with it so far, and I might get around to sharing at least some of it here on the blog, but the most pertinent piece of it is my commitment to submit my work to at least one literary agent no later than my birthday.  I'm typing it out loud here on the blog and everything, so feel free to hold me accountable come the end of March.

And now?  Back to packing!

Heritage

I've been letting Allerleirauh compost in my brain for a while, trying to figure out how best to retell it.  I've finally come up with a pretty satisfying twist, which gave me what I needed to finally name my heroine.

***

Once upon a time, my mother was the most beautiful woman in the world.

I would know this to be true even if my father hadn’t told me, because her portrait hangs in our great hall.  It is the largest of the three portraits that hang there: there is also a miniature, small enough to hold in one hand, and another painting that is half my height.  The women in those paintings look exactly like my mother, but they are not her, for they were painted before she was born, just as her portrait, taller than my father, was painted before I was born.

My mother’s name was Phaidra, and when she died giving birth to me, my father decided it was only right I have it in remembrance of her.

We Go By the Will of the Black Rabbit

Richard Adams was an old friend that I never met, and I regret that I never sent him a thank-you note for all he did for me.

Pitiful

Is there anything more pitiful than a sick baby?  I think not.

The daycare called us around 3:30pm to let us know that Neeps was rocking a fever of 102.4  Nathan went to go pick him up, and he immediately fell asleep in the car.  Then Nathan picked me up, and we went to the drug store to get some baby Tylenol.  Neeps woke up again when we got home, and played for a bit before devolving into a fretful puddle.  We gave him some medicine, and shortly thereafter his fever spiked to over 104.  A call to the doctor's office reassured us, and after the medicine had enough time to kick in his fever dropped back down to a less-alarming level.  Plus he fell asleep in my arms, naturally while I was sitting in the most uncomfortable position possible on the hard wood floor.

With some help from Nathan I did eventually manage to transfer myself (and sleeping baby) up onto the couch, where we stayed until his bedtime, at which point Nathan and I took him upstairs and tucked him in.  He slept for about an hour, then woke up and cried so pitifully that I went up and rocked him again.  His temperature was still down, but he didn't want any milk or water or medicine- just snuggles and recitations of Goodnight Moon.  So snuggles and recitations he had, for another hour, until at last he drifted off again.

I'm hoping he feels better by the morning- I hate feeling so helpless to make it better.  I'm just feeling lucky that he's so rarely so unwell.

The Quiet After the Storm

It was a Very Successful Extended Christmas Weekend in the O Household.  Neeps was showered with lots of fun gifts, and his father and I weren't left wanting, either.  We saw all sorts of friends and family and ate all sorts of delicious food.

Nathan and Neeps are currently playing on the floor, as Isis licks at various toys in the hopes that no one will notice and she can eventually make off with one.  The cats are curled up on the featherbed upstairs, and I'm here at the computer, writing.

All is right with the world.

Soft Thoughts on Die Hard

I am pleased to say that all of the stuff I thought I knew about Die Hard, I did know about Die Hard.  And none of that knowledge in any way ruined the experience of watching it, either, so that was a relief.  Although I was a bit shocked that I didn't have any sort of fore-knowledge about the super-insightful chatterbox that is Argyle.  What the heck, pop culture osmosis?

Anyway, I did have a few thoughts on the movie, and I feel compelled to share them beyond the long-suffering audience that is my husband.

First and foremost, I had no idea that Die Hard is essentially the grown-man-version of Twilight, by which I mean just absolute, unapologetic self-insertion fantasy.  And I don't mean that in a derisive way at all (I happen to enjoy the hell out of Twilight, personally): I found it delightful, but also think it's just hilarious that no one, when they are talking about this movie, comes out and says, "By the way this shit is basically a ludicrous daydream that you have when you're pissed at the bureaucrats in your office."  It even had levels of self-insertion, you know?  Obviously everyone wants to be John McClane (looked up the spelling this time), lone wolf bad ass taking out a building full of super scary bad guys, but if we're honest with ourselves we know we wouldn't actually be that cool, because we don't have even as much training as he had (which, frankly, was not enough to do what he did but yes yes fantasy I get it).  But then there's Sgt. Powell, who any one of us totally could be- just an ordinary, overweight desk-jockey, whose main super power is seeing that all his superiors are fucking idiots.  We might not be able to save the day on our own in real life, but we can totally be the person smart enough to listen to the guy who can.

Anyway.

Another super great thing about this movie was just how much a product of its time it was.  Hauling around a giant freaking teddy bear on a plane!  Smoking everywhere, including with that giant teddy bear you're giving to your kids!  Coke is definitely something we do at a company party!  Naked boobies for literally no reason whatsoever!  It was great.  When McClane (super-sexy-tough-dude-that-every-single-lady-including-the-pregnant-one-has-been-Making-Eyes-At) pauses in the middle of things to touch the pin-up boobies for luck I laughed so hard I almost peed my pants.

So yeah- Die Hard was great, I get it now and I would gladly watch it every Christmas.  But also anybody who loves this movie doesn't get to give Twilight fans any shit whatsoever about their taste in entertainment.