Washington, Almost

2015 was the year we almost moved to Washington State, to a town near Seattle.  The beauty of that area--on a sunny day in February, cold and bright--has returned to my thoughts quite often this year.  I still peruse the real estate listings for that area.

The San Francisco Bay Area has far more sunny days, but the sunny days in Washington are more spectacular--and more precious, I'm sure, to the inhabitants of that region.  Could I withstand all the rain and gloom?  Or would I long for this drought-stricken, sun-soaked state?

I might never know.  But I do know that the idea of a couple of acres and a house with a view of Puget Sound (for half or a third of the price of houses around here) has a hold on my imagination.

Getting Back to It

I've been away from the actual crafting of stories for a long time now, two weeks...it's starting to get to me.

Yes, it's been busy.  Yes, my six-year-old son has been out of school since the 18th.  Yes, the Christmas shopping, and wrapping and planning and card-writing and social visits and all that.  But.

If I don't dive back into the writing I'm going to go nuts.

No More Sugar Blues

I've managed to kick the sugary-food habit for a little over a week.  I've kept to 20 grams of sugar or less per day since December 21st, and have stopped eating cookies, cake and chocolate.  (Okay I did eat a single Junior Mint a couple of times.  Nobody's perfect.)

It feels silly to write about this...but given my previous penchant for sugar indulgences of all kinds, I know why it's not so silly that I'm sticking to this diet.

Even better than the fact of staying low-sugar:  I no longer crave sugary foods as much as before.  I can think about cake, etc. without feeling an intense longing.

Enough talk about eating.  No more sugar blues, and no more blogging about it.

Six Years Old; Time to Start Looking

Suddenly, out of the blue as we were hiking to a local farm:  "I have something to tell you, Mommy.  When I'm a grownup, I'll have to find a mate."

Yesterday it was God and the universe, today, finding a mate...I can't wait for tomorrow's pronouncement.

The Universe and The Waltons

I don't know if there was a cause-effect relationship; I think it had more to do with my son being sick for the last four or five days, and being on vacation at the same time--thus he's spent a lot of time daydreaming recently.  But it might have had something to do, also, with the fact that we were watching The Waltons this evening.  It's a slow-paced TV show about life in the Great Depression for one rural Virginia family, in which a lot of big-picture questions come up, questions about right and wrong, life and death, truth and lies...my son suddenly asked, a propos of almost nothing:  "Mommy do you know who created the great orb called the Universe?  God?"  The next question out of his mouth was, "Mommy, do you know when the first humans came to Earth?"

I was stumped, both times...I guessed 3 million years ago, for the second question.  (Okay, now that I've looked it up:  the latest scientific research suggests that while the ancestors of homo sapiens have been around for at least 2 million years, homo sapiens itself has existed for about two hundred thousand years.)  I didn't have an answer for the first question.  Which proves, I guess, that I'm an agnostic.

My son is not.  I turned things around and asked him, "Who do you think created the universe?" and he said, very quickly, "God."

The thing to know here is that my son is a very cheerful guy, who doesn't spend his days lost in serious thought--in other words, he's a normal six-year-old.  But I do think that all six-year-olds, even normal ones, spend at least part of their time asking the big questions--they're not afraid of them, and aren't afraid of being criticized for the wrong answer.  Their thoughts are, therefore, far more interesting than the typical grad student's.

I remember asking the same kinds of questions when I was his age.  The big one for me was, when you travel all the way to the end of the universe, what do you see there?

Actually I posed this question to my son this evening, and he had another answer.  "White."

He could be right.  I hope he gets to find out.

Originality

The current Star Wars film has made so many people happy, including members of my extended family, because even if it lifted the plot almost wholesale from the first Star Wars film, "it has done it so well."

Isn't this still called plagiarism?  And beyond that...has our collective aesthetic sensibility dulled to such a degree that we believe a repetition of the same plot from the first Star Wars movie makes sense--as long as the new movie has good production values?  

I will have to see the movie to judge fairly...but I see this overt copying in an iconic movie franchise as another example of an originality deficit in this country, across many different genres.

One week left

I still want to finish the stories this year...but if I rush it at this point, it just won't be done right; that's almost guaranteed.

New, final deadline for getting them out is January 8th.

And now, off to watch a movie.  It is Christmas Eve after all.

Grumpiness

I've been grumpy these past few days...yes, just in time for Christmas...it's tied very much to the fact that I've had no time to write for more days than I can count (beyond this journal, that is).  This morning I was fit to be tied, as the old expression goes...jumping out of my own skin.  Everything irritated me, including, how very irritated I was about next to nothing.

At around 4:45, finally made it out the door for a jog.  It was getting dark already (it is the winter solstice after all), but I was determined to run for an hour or so.  Which I did...and it was exhilarating. Completely cured me of the grumps.  I feel so lucky to be healthy--much more healthy than this time last year--and so blessed to have a wonderful family, all of them in good health and reasonably happy.  Missing my parents quite a bit...but the pain of losing them, intense in 2006-2009, has subsided to a near-constant, low-pressure longing.

Sometimes the only cure for grumpiness is to smash it.

Silliness

My son giggled a lot watching one of the Peanuts TV specials today; I think it was called "It's Magic, Charlie Brown."  Today was his first time watching any Peanuts in video form (except for the excerpt of Snoopy fighting the Red Baron from the Christmas special).  I gave him a 3-DVD set of Peanuts as an early Christmas present.   He wasn't that impressed with "Merry Christmas Charlie Brown," nor "It's the Great Pumpkin Charlie Brown"--they are just a bit dated, I think in a charming way, but it's not enough action to hold my boy's interest.   However, "It's Magic" had him laughing hysterically.  All the goofy things Snoopy does--making Charlie Brown disappear, then putting a ghost costume and a tie on him--it's complete silliness, but that's just what made him laugh so hard.

I'm not going to launch into a big sermon about how much we need silliness in our lives...but we do. In contemporary U.S. culture, silliness has been replaced, to a large degree, by sarcasm and irony...that's why so few of us really know how to giggle like a six-year-old.  Myself included.

Scattered

No time today for anything but basic shopping and cleaning (did manage to get out the door for a 3-mile jog, thank goodness); yesterday, researched/bought Christmas presents online for the entire afternoon--so, feeling tremendously scattered, brainless and sleepy...and for the next three days we're either entertaining guests, including an overnight guest, or I'm driving to San Francisco with my son to meet a friend up there.  And I still have all the gifts to wrap, the house to clean more thoroughly, Christmas dinner to prepare etc. etc.

Trying not to be depressed about the fact that I've had no time to work on the stories since last Thursday (and that was only for a couple hours), and will have no time again until this coming Friday, at best.

Sugar Festival

Okay, today my anti-sugar regime collapsed--completely and spectacularly.  It all started with a sudden intense desire to bake brownies, ostensibly for my son, who devoured about five of them...at first I had one small morsel and told myself, "That's not really cheating"; then another, then an entire brownie (15 grams of sugar, wham), then it all came tumbling down.  And tonight I'm having hot chocolate AND pumpkin pie.

Will start over yet again--tomorrow.

William Carlos Williams and the Imagination

William Carlos Williams is one of my chief inspirations.  Poetry, prose, autobiography, essays...he did it all; and he was an innovator in every genre.  His credo:  the imagination, first and foremost.

Some of his efforts were less successful than others; in some works he seems to be foaming at the mouth rather than writing and/or his imagination just doesn't achieve lift-off.  But that's the exception rather than the rule.  More often than not his works sound fresh and original even today; and at every moment, one feels his excitement for the written word, for the act of slapping words down on the page even when one is dropping dead from exhaustion (he was a full-time pediatrician after all, with two sons).  Sometimes he scribbled down a poem on a prescription pad at 11 p.m. when the family had dropped off to sleep and he finally had a chance to be alone with his thoughts.  (My situation right now.)

How badly we need a William Carlos Williams today...or more precisely, how badly we need an efflorescence of imaginative art, similar to the one that occurred about a century ago.

Am I Like That

Extremely tired...my cat has developed an annoying habit of coming to me at 4 in the morning, meowing, and butting the back of my head with hers, then sacking out right there on my pillow, her back up against the back of my head.  Sometimes I've made it back to sleep, but even so...I wonder what I can do to break this new habit of hers.  My sanity might depend on it.

I recently came across a blog by a woman who writes and who also races in triathlons.  And I've rarely read anything so self-absorbed and self-aggrandizing.

And I'm wondering:  am I like that?

It's late--fell behind with everything these last two days, got very little done...need to go to sleep anyway, especially with that 4 a.m. wake-up call in my near-future.

Try Again (and Again and Again)

My son was sick the last two days--just a mild cold, but he was drippy and sneezy enough to stay home.  Of course he was as happy as a clam, and spent at least two hours each day playing one particular online naval battle game.  He also watched The Magic School Bus, a great education-and-adventure program for kids, with Lily Tomlin as the daffy and unflappable schoolteacher, Ms. Frizzle.  He did some writing each day, and a smattering of math, and we did quite a bit of reading; he also went to his programming class...overall, he was a very good boy during these two days...nevertheless, my morale is low today, because I lost two days of writing/editing time (except for brief snatches while he was doing the online game) and now I feel like I'm never going to finish and get the stories out.

I know that I shouldn't feel that way.  I have four hours to call my own today, another three hours tomorrow.

For some reason I haven't slept well all week, and that's probably the real reason morale is low.  Oh, and also--ate five cookies yesterday.

This low-sugar diet is much harder for me than getting daily exercise...I hate saying it again, but I'll have to start all over.  Today is the first day (again) of the low-sugar diet.  No heavily sweetened foods for six months, no more than 20 grams of sugar a day (increasing the total amount just a bit), and no more than 10 grams at any one time.

The Element of Surprise

I want my stories to push past whatever parameters I set up for them.  I want the characters to take me beyond wherever I thought I was going, and I want the stories to ask questions I can't answer.  A story should shape itself, in a sense.  For that to happen, I have to shut off my conscious mind while I'm writing--or at least, lock it up in a closet somewhere in the back of my brain.

I think I was in that zone of semi-consciousness yesterday, when I rewrote (almost from scratch) one of my stories.  Whether the story is any good is a different question.  But often those are the stories I'm drawn to read and re-read after they're done, because they tend to have multiple layers, and continue to surprise me each time I read them.

DIY Triathlon? / New Goal for Stories

Follow-up on yesterday's post:  walking today for exercise, I started thinking about putting together my own triathlon:  I'd swim 60 laps at our local pool, heated to a lovely 80 degrees, while my son and husband watched my bike; then I'd change and hop on the bike, speeding through a 40-kilometer course I'd mapped out in advance; then I'd run a 10k.  All in the middle of the day, around 11 a.m. perhaps, not at 7 a.m. which is when the vast majority of triathlons are held.

I just don't care that much about the races, don't need them for validation; don't care to be elbowed by (or to accidently elbow) other competitors in the swim, don't like the automatic hyperventilation in those frigid waters and the ever-present, very real possibility of a heart attack...something I didn't fully understand until yesterday.

I love, with a passion, all three activities:  swimming, biking, jogging.  But I pretty much hate the way triathlons are organized (and the trend, in that respect, is downwards, with more crushing crowds of people as the sport grows ever more popular, and with gear that is way too expensive and has virtually no use outside of a triathlon--is designed to help you go one mile an hour faster on the bike or to get you through the transitions ten seconds faster--why on earth do they make the transitions part of the race, there are other ways to set it up).

I want to be fit.  I also want to have a life, not think about this sport too much, just have fun with it.

I learned, also, that at the HITS triathlon in Napa the water temperature is only 54 to 59 degrees--I thought Lake Berryessa was warmer than that, but apparently it's no warmer than the Pacific Ocean.  That's really too cold for me...

Right now there's no triathlon I'm eager to do, except the one that starts at my local pool and ends at my house.  Fitness, not fanaticism.

On a separate, but related note:  my son was sick today, which meant, very little time was spent working on the stories.  However, did manage to re-write, almost from scratch, one story that was really going nowhere, with an empty character and a very weak plot...it's pretty good now.  So that was one small victory...but I still have about thirty-eight stories to finish...oh well; revising my goal...I'm simply hoping to get the stories out before the end of the year.

Triathlon Blues

I read two things today about the Vineman Triathlon in Monte Rio that gave me pause (I had been thinking about signing up for that one--and soon, since it sells out quickly).

A woman died there a few years ago, during the swim portion of the 70.3 (half-Ironman).  I was planning to do the Olympic, not the 70.3; but still.  She was 50, and an experienced triathlete, with no preexisting heart condition as far as anyone knew.  According to what I read, she had not warmed up in the water before starting the swim portion of the race.

Reading about her death led me to read more about triathlons and deaths; there have been quite a few, around 53 total between 2007 and 2013, and most of them happened during the swim portion.  The shock of hitting cold water, then trying to swim as fast as you can--I experienced that a little bit in the Marin Triathlon.  The water wasn't even all that cold, maybe in the high 60s (I'm just guessing; it was far warmer than usual due to this year's El Nino conditions).  That's supposedly how warm the water is in the Russian River--or maybe it's even warmer in June, I don't really know.

At any rate, swimming in cold water (high 60s, while not as frigid as the Pacific Ocean, is still very cold), especially without warming up first, can be very dangerous, according to a few articles I read online this evening.

I didn't do a warm-up swim at the Marin Triathlon; nor did most of the swimmers participating as far as I could tell (although I didn't watch the competitors carefully before the race started, just was too focused on my own preparations).  After freezing and hyperventilating a bit during the swim, I can see very clearly why it would be important to warm up.  I don't understand why this isn't a requirement or at least, very strongly recommended at all triathlons.

Also, I read today that the Vineman has been taken over by Ironman, and at least one observer laments the fact, saying the marquee triathlon events are becoming too splashy, commercial and expensive, while the more modest, locally-run events that are much cheaper and user-friendly are being ignored by most triathletes, for no good reason:

http://www.outsideonline.com/2035616/rip-vineman-1990-2015

I am wondering, after reading these two articles, which triathlon I can pick that will have a low-key community feeling about it, not be too crowded, and not have absolutely frigid or otherwise terrible water conditions. The only two that come to mind are one of the HITS triathlons, or Marin.  I could also do one in San Diego or Hawaii, perhaps.

I'll have to do more research.

Above all, I want to remember:  the goal here is fitness, not fanaticism...I want to do a couple Olympic triathlons when I'm ready; but only when I'm good and ready.

Sugar Blues

I craved sugar today, all day...which is further proof that I really needed to go on this low-sugar diet...

When I say, "craved sugar," I mean, I craved heavy-duty sugar:  cookies, cake, ice cream.

Ended up eating pancakes with a little bit of syrup, then also having the low-sugar oatmeal, AND some low-sugar hot chocolate at noon...then, some low-sugar ice cream.  I'm sure I was at my 15-grams-of-sugar limit, or slightly over it, by 1 p.m.

On a more positive note:  I did manage to work on the stories today, even though it was Sunday.

The next two days will be all about the stories.

Putting the Blinders On

I need to get serious about finishing the short-short stories...it's time to get done with that.

It requires putting the blinders on and making that a high priority.

This blog will definitely take a back seat to the stories for a week or so, at least.

10K / Low-sugar diet (again)

Managed to complete a 10K today...the first one in about ten years.  The best part of that was, I felt almost no pain in my knee, and still don't, several hours later.  The second best part:  it wasn't too hard. I wasn't pushing myself in terms of pace, but I wasn't lollygagging, either.

I think I'll be ready for that 10K race in Fremont in January...at least, now I know I'll get through it. 

I'm also thinking about completing at least one Olympic triathlon next year.  The two races I have my eye on are the Monte Rio Triathlon in June, and perhaps the Santa Cruz Triathlon in September (but I hate freezing-cold ocean swims...will probably look for an alternative).   I'm pretty sure I could get through an Olympic triathlon even now...but the goal is to finish without being completely wiped out.

On another subject:  I completely bailed on the low-sugar diet yesterday, ate about five cookies. Today was better--so (sigh) December 11th is my new start date.

Euphoria

I've experienced a mild euphoria these past four days, based simply on the fact that (1) I don't feel nauseous, and (2) my cough is ten times better--I don't feel like coughing every second.  An added bonus:  my knee is hardly bothering me at all these days.  And, I'm still at my target weight (although I've added a couple pounds this past week--since I can't eat sugary foods I'm probably eating way too much of everything else that's bad).

The euphoria exhibits itself in a greater eagerness to interact with people, and in a pervasive feeling of contentment...I know, banal to the max...

So my body is feeling pretty good...and my brain?  I did work pretty well today on the stories; not as disgusted with them as I was yesterday.  I think I'll be completely done in about a week, if all goes well.  But where on Earth should I send them?

Death

How do we process the fact of death at age 6?  I know that my son tried to process it today, when I read him a children's book (The Forever Dog), about a boy whose dog dies suddenly of an illness.  The boy returns home from school and his mom tells him the dog is at the vet; the dog dies and never returns home. The mom tells her son that his dog will live forever in his heart; eventually, the boy is able to think about his dog and smile.

The story made tears roll down my son's face.  He didn't want to talk about it; he sat there looking sad for about five minutes.  I stayed next to him, dried his tears.  Then he picked up the book and read it again on his own.  I went to another room, as he seemed to want to sort out his own feelings.

It doesn't come up often--the fact that my husband and I are older parents.  We don't discuss it much with each other (not yet), and we haven't discussed it with our son.  But I do think about it a lot.  I feel an unspoken pressure to make sure our son reaches a certain high level of maturity by the time he's twenty.  How do you "make sure"?  It's not really possible to make sure.  But I try.

Right now he's getting ready to sleep by reading his book of Peanuts comics, and he's giggling up a storm, any thoughts of death very much in abeyance.  Thank goodness.

Cookie Fiend

I've always been a cookie fiend.  Before I began my low-sugar diet, hardly a day went by that I didn't scarf down at least three or four of them.  I'm finding that a particularly hard habit to break, as evidenced by the fact that even during this new low-sugar regimen, I've been finding ways to justify the consumption of at least one or two cookies a day.  "Oh it's just 3 grams of sugar, I don't have to be so rigid about things do I?"

Yes it's not that bad, and I've only had one or two small cookies.  But that's not the point.  I was going to stop eating cookies, cake, chocolate, and virtually all other sugar-laden foods, for at least six months, maybe a year...so every time I eat a cookie, even one with just two grams of sugar, I'm breaking the rules.  Need to stop.

Coding School for Every Child

Today--what a contrast to the art school; my son went to his first real lesson at a coding school...I know, it seems like we're pushing him too early for that sort of thing.  Trust me--we're not.  He's a natural and he loves it; he's been doing simple coding exercises at home for five months.  And he had a ball doing the same sort of thing with some one-on-one guidance at this school, which just started up in our area about two months ago.

I say, "What a contrast" because unlike the art school I described yesterday, my son was making a hundred decisions about what kind of shapes and characters and backgrounds to use, how he wanted his characters to move, what kind of story he wanted to tell.  It was a creative activity, moving at the speed of light--or more accurately, at the speed of 6-year-old, computer-savvy kids (which means,  fast).  

I never thought I'd say this, but coding school did more for my son's imagination than art school.  At least, this coding school did more than that particular art school.  I will keep searching for a good art class.

Art Schools for "Perfect" Children

Last week, my son did a trial lesson at a local art school.  My initial impression of this school was that all the kids--overwhelmingly girls--were sitting very quietly in front of their easels, and were remarkably well-behaved.  I thought, what a wonderful, calm environment.  And yes, it is wonderfully calm, but my son was terrifically bored, and I must say that I don't blame him.  He had to sit there for an hour copying a drawing of a robot's head--an activity that requires zero imagination.  The goal of the school is for a child to be able to copy as well as possible.  Even some of the best artwork that I saw at the school's web site virtually screams, "I am a copy; not a shred of original thought went into this."

For children that love to be perfect--to draw absolutely straight lines, to shade in colors precisely within a certain boundary, to transfer someone's else's ideas to a piece of paper--this class is great.  And there are a lot of kids like that.  For children that have at least a few ounces of imagination, and don't want cookie-cutter pictures that look like everyone else's--this class is horrible.  But this particular art school is fantastically popular in our community.

So many artistic activities for kids are designed these days on this cookie-cutter model.  The Suzuki Method is very much designed so that any kid can scrape out a few miserable notes on a violin, or pound them out on the piano.  Their parents are not demanding anything more.  I don't want my son to be perfect in the Suzuki sense, or in the way that this art school dictates.  I want him to experience art in a more visceral, exciting way than he does in these sorts of classes.

Sugar Adjustments

For the first time in ten days, felt almost normal today, health-wise, except for an occasional cough. Managed to do all the yoga, weight and knee exercises, plus jog nearly five miles. Helped my son get started with an assignment where he makes a poster describing his cultural heritage (he's not nearly done with it, but it's not due until December 16th).  We also went for a two-mile walk.  Yesterday we (my son, my husband and I) went hiking at a local farm, which was tranquil and free of crowds.   It feels wonderful to be healthy enough to engage in normal life again.

I made pancakes for everyone this morning...was mostly doing it to taste maple syrup!  I tried to limit myself to 2 teaspoons of syrup total, which is already about 7 grams of sugar, and almost succeeded...then had to scarf up my son's half of a leftover pancake which was drenched in maple syrup...oh well...

It's virtually impossible to eliminate sugar completely from one's diet.  So my new goal is to limit the sugar consumption on any given day to roughly 15 grams, total, and not exceed 8 grams at any given meal.  That's a more realistic goal than to say I'm never eating sugar again.

My savior where this whole no-sugar diet is concerned is Dreyer's Slow-Churn vanilla ice cream with Splenda.  It tastes like regular ice cream and has three grams of sugar per half-cup serving, and not that much fat either.  It's a miracle food as far as I'm concerned.  Another wonderful discovery:  Quaker Oats reduced-sugar instant oatmeal packets.  4 to 6 grams of sugar per serving, and it's still very sweet.

Back on the Wagon(s)

Somewhat better today.

Am going to have to re-commit myself to the exercise and no-sugar regimen, as I really fell off the wagon these last few days.  Managed to exercise yesterday, but the previous two days, because of sickness, did not; and, yesterday I gleefully consumed three-quarters of a PowerBar, about 19 grams of sugar.

I did manage to complete six months of not missing a single day of exercise, May 30th to November 29th.

So my new pledge is to abstain from any sugary food (including PowerBars) for the next six months, December 4th through June 3rd, and to exercise daily (at least 25 minutes of aerobics six days a week, plus one day of walking at least 45 minutes), and also, to complete, every day, my 20-minute yoga/weights/knee exercise routine.

Now, of course, I'm feeling tired again...

Will have to figure out how to balance it all.

Strange Bug

I was taken down these last couple of days by some kind of virus; was already suffering from a cold of sorts which manifested, for the most part, as a bad cough, then on Tuesday, was knocked out by an episode of vomiting.  Three different moms at my son's school have described something similar happening to their children in the past few weeks...so I am led to believe that there's some kind of weird bug floating around at my son's school.  Though it could have been food poisoning in any of those cases...who knows.

I remained wiped out on Wednesday (yesterday); it was hard to get out of bed and remain upright.   Didn't exercise; hardly ate.  Did manage to pick up my son from school, take him to his new coding class (which he loved) and cook some kind of dinner, then give him a bath--but was just barely getting through it all.  Didn't write in this journal; didn't do much of anything, outside of the usual parental duties.

I still feel like a zombie.  The bad cough is still there; I've had that many times before so at least I know what's going on with that.  I have had some sort of attack of deep coughing almost every fall or winter; some doctor years ago called it "bronchial spasms" but reading the Mayo Clinic web site, I think it could just as well be labelled acute bronchitis.

I had my yearly physical on Tuesday; was hopeful that the doctor would prescribe something, but she didn't, just said it would probably get better by Day 7, which is today...and yes, it is slightly better. But only slightly.  Hopefully, I'll be able to move out of zombie-mode tomorrow.