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I had to go to the chiropractors yesterday and as I was getting ready the very bad cat invades my bedroom. It was far too late to evict him, so I went out, leaving the bedroom door open.

On my return, I assumed the VBC had ensconced himself in the hammock he has constructed by destroying the undercover of our mattress. I called to him. No response. I rattled the treat bag. No response. I went into the bedroom to find him fast asleep in the middle of my bed.  He had made a nice cat nest with my duvet. He wasn’t a happy camper to be yanked out of there. I scored a very heartfelt hiss.

Over the course of a long and happy marriage minds tend to meld together.

Him: Outside barbequing hamburgers.

Me: Sticking my head around the door to see what he wanted on his.

Him: Nothing.

Me: I am frying up some onions and …

Him: Yes, that would be nice.

It is a mix of fried onions and barbeque sauce. I didn’t have to say this for him to know what I meant.

Apart from the boring grocery shopping, we scored some plants. The dh wants to know if I am going to spud them in today. Um no. I have a skeleton of what I want and I need the rest of it to put the picture together. I have deck planters and front yard planters to fill. I need to have everything in place before I start messing with anything. This means a trip to a greenhouse.

The dh is very laid back over this as he loves the flowers. Oh ho ho, someone is going to have a field day, oh yes she is!

I mourn for the wonderful indy bookstores. It used to be such a wonderful treat to go on to Whyte Avenue in Edmonton to visit such an establishment. The place had many floors and we spent happy hours perusing the shelves in the hushed atmosphere. There is nothing quite like searching in the vast array of shelves and talking to the staff to find that one special and unique book.

Even the smaller book store chains were worth a visit. I would often see authors signing at the smaller venues and it was so nice talking to them about their books. All gone. Now we have the giant box store Chapters/Indigo, Nice stores, but not in the same league. All the commercially great books are pushed to the forefront and those wonderful treasures are no where to be found. Yes, they have coffee shops on the premise, but the atmosphere; the quiet search of discovery for the special treasures is something encapsulated in the past.

Birthing a Book.

I can’t speak for others, only myself. What sparks the muse? For me, this happens during the night when I am failing to sleep. No, that wasn’t a typo, it was really failing and as I lie sleepless, trying to rest, my mind flicks through various scenes, or sometimes pulls up songs.

Darkspire Reaches was inspired by the song Veshangro by the Incredible String Band. I got an image of an incredible evil grove of trees hating each other. The main character, Raven, was another such flash in the night. I saw a girl and an old woman in a run down shack. There was a storm and villagers were creeping up on them, intending to light the place on fire because they considered the women evil and witches. Images began to flash fast and furious after that and the story came together.

No, it wasn’t that simple. I don’t/can’t outline, so everything is streaming out as it comes to me. As a result, there were many rewrites and false starts. Did anyone really think it was easy? So how did the Wyvern happen? Call it sympathy for dragons with their bad rap. He sprung into existence somewhere above the burning hovel scene in a very early draft. Of course, this is now all different.

I have an intrinsic need to layer my stories, so it meant going back and tweaking until I had a flow. However, now I needed a lighter element to bring in humor. The little firedrake, Kryling, was born. His significance increased as the book progressed. How does one write a firedrake? I will confess I modeled him on my less than merciful cats. I needed something cute and also something merciless in terms of hunting.

The final version? Very well edited by my publishers at Kristell Ink. And now a book is born.

There was a recent news article about a Russian billionaire who imagines he can transfer his consciousness to an avatar in 2045. Wonderful, but has he thought if all the way through? What makes life special? Eating, drinking, relationships, family bonds, experiences … the list goes on.

How is an avatar to accomplish this? No idea. A non body would not eat, drink, etc. Another consideration is the status of power needed to keep the thing thriving. What happens in a power outage? Generators are all well and good, but supposing a meteor strikes? Ok, take it to the nth degree and equip the avatar with solar power. What happens when the sun dies, or the planet?

Just looking back over the previous century has given a huge leap of technology. We adapt by evolving. The very elder generation cannot assimilate new tech. It is beyond them. How would an immortal avatar fare? No idea. Would eternal life equate to boredom and inadequacy? Anyone’s guess.

Good luck to the guy in getting what he wants. There is a saying about being careful what you wish for.  

I have been waiting for this moment forever and got tempted. Today I bought enough basket stuffers to complete three hanging baskets and one container. I know I have to either bring these in or cover them before nightfall. It is quite possible we will get more frosts. Crosses fingers that we don’t.

Claude, the petunia, goes out on the deck. He is a greenish white flowering petunia and already huge. No, I don’t talk to him, but I do send good vibes in his direction. He is the first petunia I have ever grown from seed and he is a wave form. Yeah.

I haven’t touched my deck planters, or my porch planters, or my garage planters and still need to get my tomato plants in. This is something that can wait a little. The baskets do need to be started early for a good show, and yes, they do need to be babied.

My husband came over to move the one deck planter I have completed as it is large and heavy. His comment was ‘You are in your element here.’ Um yes. I suppose I could have used a hand shovel to plant my stuff but I like to feel the dirt in my hands. In any case, I need to feel if the roots are well tamped down, especially Claude’s. I’ll post picture of him if he survives. Crosses fingers. This time of year is so iffy.

We also purchased a new deck table and umbrella. I did suggest the dh look at the instructions. Really I did. He had to take the thing apart and redo it after he put the legs on back to front. Far be it from me to interfere with a man thing. Still, it is a very nice table. We sat outside for a bit, when he finished putting it together and I finished messing with my plants. Most pleasant with the trees and bushes just about to burst into flower. I have a Kelsey Crabapple, two Mayday trees, a Nanking cherry, an apricot tree and two Sea buckthorn. My ferns, hostas and astilbe are emerging and I can see daffodils and tulips emerging. Spring is my favorite of all times.  

Not decided on what I want for my other pots as yet. I was looking for the black and yellow stripped petunia, but didn’t see any of those. The new color seems to be a rose and lemon, which looks tired to me. Back to the drawing board on that one.

No veggie patch. I have a mature garden and there are too many tree roots to get one going. Still, I shall grow tomatoes on the deck in pots. I also always grow herbs and have some growing on from seed. Not as impressive as Claude, but not bad.

Since our deck has a power outlet, I will be able to sit out there and write in the clement weather. I am looking forward to this. I expect the very bad cat is also anticipating his limited freedom via his harness and leash. I really have to be out there with him to make sure he is safe and doesn’t get tangled up.

My task for tomorrow or Monday? Water the yard. I don’t see my clematis starting up yet and need them to have a boost. I do see my hollyhocks coming up and they must be thirsty by now.