30 April 2001
Is it still April? I thought we were about ready to be done with that around a week ago. I'm ready to be done with it, anyway.
Yesterday was the Saga of Timprov's New Bed. I'll let him tell you about that if he wants to. Suffice it to say that I pitched a polite fit, and somewhere around ten hours late, they removed the wrong bed and brought in the right one. And there was much rejoicing.
We found out what the "squeaky marker on the parking lot" noise is. The man downstairs from us has hung a cable of sorts from the supports on his deck, and he does arm exercises on it. I'm not convinced that the stuff he does has any health benefits whatsoever, but it looks kind of like fun, a "Wheee! I'm flying!" sort of sensation.
Also yesterday (eventful day!), Mark and I went to the Japanese Gardens here in Hayward. It's a nice little garden. Not as large or as well-done as the one in Portland, but come on. We're talking about Hayward here. I'm just glad they have somewhere peaceful I can go to write sometimes, since they have no coffeehouses at all. (Not that that makes me bitter.) Also, sometimes Japanese gardens (if they're badly done or out of season) are all form and no color. This one had enough little touches of color that it enhanced the forms.
Mark is still a bit snozzly, and Timprov is still having back problems. If they're not careful, I'm going to have to do my dad's faith healer bit on them. Ooh, our dog hated that. She barked at him quite angrily, the bark that says, "Hey! Stop that!" She just didn't like televangelists at all. But it always made me laugh when Daddy did that when I was sick. "Heeeeal this child!" etc.
Finished the rough draft of a short story last night. This morning -- I don't know what. Article work, probably, and some novel work. I'm going to get a little writing done on the current novel and then read stuff about suburbia and stuff about Finland and maybe just stuff about stuff, if I decide to take a break. And I get to make a thrilling trip to the grocery store and -- if I'm lucky -- to Target. I want to just sit down and work my butt off on this current novel and get it done, in part so that I can work on the Not The Moose Book, because I keep getting newly excited about that one, and I keep making little notes on details for it. I know I can finish the current one within the next couple of months. Also, synopses and agent packages are on the list...ugh. I could just clean the bathroom instead. That'd be more fun.
No, I'll put on a bright sunny smile in my head, and haul out the new agent book, and assume that Fortress will have to sell somewhere else, even though I still haven't heard. (I have this awful feeling that our change of address and phone number has tripped them up, and that I have a lovely letter of some kind coming, polite in every way, that they mailed three weeks ago to our Concord address. But tomorrow all will be clear, at least a little bit.) And it'll be a good day.
Oh yeah, and it's my father-in-law's birthday. He's 50. If you know him and you forgot his birthday, here's your reminder. He's neat. Make him happy on his birthday.
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