I made two quiches for supper!

And it raised my anxiety level so much, I will not likely be making another for some time.

That’s a lie; I have two extra pie shells and I don’t want them to go to waste. What was stressful was trying to figure out the timeline of the whole, after prepping the ingredients: if I wanted us to eat at 5:30 pm, what time should I start mixing, preheat the oven, (perhaps in reverse order?), etc.

I made it work, though, and the kids and their partners and I sat down for supper around the target time. And the food was good! One was kind of a quiche Lorraine, with two kinds of cheese (cheddar and marble) plus some chopped kale because I couldn’t find spinach at the store; the other was ham and cheese (also cheddar and marble). I also fried the rest of the ham pieces I picked up, in case someone didn’t like the quiche(s), and we had a Caesar salad. But the kids all said they liked it, so the effort was all worthwhile! I didn’t even burn anything!

It’s been a good evening.

Son and his girlfriend return to Ottawa in the morning, having to work on Monday (he with his co-op placement at the National Research Council, she to her retail job), and they plan to leave early, so I should make myself go to bed soon to make sure I don’t have a hard time getting up to say goodbye.

But I do like the night… I’m back to not liking the process of going to sleep… and there are so many things needing to get done that I feel guilty about sleeping.

Side note: look at these beautiful window displays from a high-end shopping district in Paris:

We stopped into a luxury designer men’s swimsuit clothier to peruse the racks, my spouse being in need of a pair of trunks for our planned visit to the Sky Lagoon in Reykjavik. We discovered that not only were each set of swim shorts available as limited editions — the quantities differing depending on whether they were hand-embroidered, festooned with beads and/or sequins, or plain — but they started at 750 Euros. Not my husband’s preference, by far. But it was neat to look, and to chat with the staff, who were very kind.

And this café, where we paused before our sightseeing tour on our first full day in the City of Lights, at an open wine bar called Auburn to warm up with hot drinks, and I tried cappuccino for the first time (and fell in love with it) — Hubby said his was the best he’d ever had, in that location! I went to use the washroom and discovered that the café was connected to a hotel and a restaurant, and was stunned by the gorgeous interior design…

We spent slightly too long at Auburn and had to hustle to get back to our tour’s starting location, a habit that would follow us throughout our stay, but we still arrived within the specified time. Our guide, Thomas, was cheerful and kind, very professional and helpful as he taught us how to drive the Segways provided by the tour company, XL Tours (not being paid for this review, just my memories and observations). Thomas offered my husband gloves several times throughout our sightseeing, as the day was chilly, but to us, it really wasn’t that bad. Poor fellow, he was wearing two coats and still felt cold… although, I should note, our daughter was also feeling the low temperatures despite wearing layers, but as she’s said, she’s usually cold anyway.

We had great fun toodling about the downtown streets and bike paths along the River Seine, passing monuments and other points of interest. It was definitely a good choice for introducing ourselves to the history and present-day of Paris.

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

Our amazing guide not only took pictures for us, and made sure we were safe, frequently checking on our progress as we went and advising us of potential obstacles to avoid like curbs and pedestrians, he also took video of our tour using a GoPro. I paid extra for the footage, and I’m so glad that I did. It was worth every penny.

After we said goodbye to Thomas, we started feeling the chill a bit with the fading of adrenaline and headed to the Galaries Lafayette for lunch before attending the Friday afternoon fashion show, as well as to take the opportunity for enjoying the view of the city from the rooftop. We discovered the glories of the Galaries’ cafeteria, where the variety of food made it difficult to choose. I decided to go with healthy options — mainly a delicious squash soup — but looking back, I do wish I had chosen a quiche Lorraine. Did they have it available in the cafeteria? I can’t remember, but it would surprise me if they didn’t.

It was such a thrill to see the Palais Garnier from above! I’ve been a fan of the Phantom of the Opera since I first saw the live show in Toronto at the Pantages Theatre in the early 90s. And the Galaries Lafayette was so alluring, it was difficult to leave the shopping centre. The fashion show did its job at piquing our interest in looking for clothes, but we had other plans for the rest of our day… plans that took us in the opposite direction of standing high above the city streets, and into the tunnels below.

More on that, tomorrow.

The challenges of the fatigue

I am tired.

Whenever I think that to myself, I remember a phone conversation with my mother once, many years ago when my children were small, in which she said “You’re always tired.” My spouse has said the same to me. So in recent years, I have tried using synonyms, or developing a scale to indicate my level of tired: wiped, exhausted, wilting, fatigued.

When one is chronically fatigued, it becomes difficult to enjoy even the most wonderful things.

And it’s easy to get overwhelmed.

Worse, with chronic fatigue, there is never enough rest. You go to bed tired and wake up, still tired.

I’ve read that this kind of fatigue and problem with sleep is one of the many, many indicators of autism. It also connects to the fibromyalgia.

What can help is distractions. Over the last few days, focusing on the baby doll layette and the course prep for the college have worked. I’ve also been paying regular attention to updates on by YouTubers about the situation in Grindavik, Iceland — I have always been interested in natural disasters, and this is a slow-moving event that fascinates me. Plus, my son and his girlfriend are home for the weekend, and it’s so nice to have them here.

I wish I could find a way to keep my mood and energy up, though. I feel so badly every time I have to bow out and rest. Fortunately, my immediate family / household is very forgiving.

Today I accomplished a phone meeting with my editing client, and following that with tasks for their project; I went with my spouse to an appointment at the bank, after which I probably should have had a nap, but I opted to have more coffee and work on course prep instead. Daughter made me a grilled cheese sandwich for lunch. I ended up feeling a bit frustrated by a complication in the course prep, and by supper, I desperately needed a nap, so I did, but I felt guilty and like a bad host because I hadn’t started anything for dinner. I argued with myself, “This is a household of adults — they can fend for themselves. But I am hosting them, I’m the parent, I should be the one providing food…” In the end, my elder offspring and his partner cheerfully got themselves a pizza with their Pizza Hut points, and the younger offspring and I had some tasty frozen ready-mades. And I have promised that tomorrow, when my daughter’s boyfriend comes for supper, I will make them quiche because it’s been a while since I have made quiche from scratch and we have most of the ingredients already.

That was one thing I didn’t get to doing, in Paris: I really wanted an authentic Parisian quiche Lorraine.

After supper, which ended up being late, I remembered that my dear friend’s store is open until 8 pm and there was an item I had been forgetting to pick up: one of those incense burners for a cone, the kind that lets the smoke kind of cascade down. So I had my son drop me off — he came in to say hello — and sat with my friend for the last thirty minutes or so of her Friday evening hours, enjoying a chat and some coffee. And then she drove me home, where the young man had set up his Nintendo Switch. It was fun playing MarioKart, which I hadn’t done for a number of years, but the controller made my hand cramp, which was frustrating.

And now I am facing down the unfinished: the course outline and binder (earlier this evening, I printed out copies of all of the slideshows for reference purposes); the main four assignments that I want to adjust to be more inclusive; my client’s current pages (they need an additional copy with some work done on them); my client’s next set of pages; the baby doll’s little hat needs a few more centimetres of knitting; my own manuscripts… Plus I need a haircut, a shower, the old nail polish taken off my fingers, and the never-ending pile of laundry.

Let me remember Paris, again, for the little lift it will give me.

How the early morning light glowed against the neighbouring buildings outside our little balcony…

How the continental breakfast on the first morning in our hotel delighted us with its variety and freshness…

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

And the trepidation over our first use of the Metro — how I mastered my anxiety while trying to figure out signage and colour-coding…

I took significant risks in repeatedly taking my phone out on the Metro, I know, but it was comforting to track our route using Google Maps and the RTA’s app.

So much anxiety mixed with so much joy… I wanted to be present, but I’m glad I took the time to document as much as I could. It helps, when the fatigue threatens to drag me down.

Okay. Time to tackle the next unfinished thing, and get it off my list.

The challenges of international travel when you’re not entirely well…

I figured that, after a pair of longish overnight flights with no sleep, that I would need to have a bit of a rest once we’d checked into our hotel. I was hoping my energy would hold out, though, and really wanted to go see a tattoo studio that was only five minutes’ walk away — I’d even picked the flash I hoped to get. But knowing that I tend toward fatigue, I reasoned that a little nap was the better bet, while Hubs and Daughter went to explore the neighbourhood.

What I didn’t expect to happen after lying down was to suddenly spiral into an anxiety attack.

I don’t think it was a panic attack; my breathing wasn’t affected, and I didn’t feel like the actual walls were closing in. But the enormity of what we were doing pulled me down. I remember thinking to myself something along the lines of “What have I done? Why are we here? Why did I spend all that money? We need to get on a plane and go home right now!” Just, absolute terror and angst and self-beratement for long minutes that seemed like hours, and I believe I tried to curl into a fetal position, but I was too fatigued to move. At the same time, I wanted to get up and go explore — find the tattoo studio, get a coffee and a pastry, and just be in Paris, because after all, we were there.

Eventually I drifted off, and woke up an hour later when my spouse and offspring returned with bellies full of fresh pizza, Himself in need of a turn with napping and Herself in need of a few items that she’d forgotten in the truck back in our home province.

So, although I really, really just wanted to pull a Lorelei and just sleeeeeeep, I hauled myself out of bed and she and I set out in the opposite direction to which they had walked, in part to double-check the location of the Metro and purchase our Navigo Easy Passes, and in part to locate a Monoprix, which I’d heard to be useful for general clothing purchases.

Getting out into the fresh air was so helpful, as was managing to communicate with the personnel behind the counter at the Metro as well as the Monoprix. As suddenly as my panic and anxiety had arisen, I was able to push it away. Was it adrenaline? Or just pure goodness at having achieved these basic yet significant things?

It definitely helped that I had already scouted some of the Arrondissement ahead of time, using Google Maps’ Street View.

I think we were out and about for another hour, and then we returned to the hotel to awaken the slumbering spouse so that he would be able to sleep at a more appropriate time, and went to supper at the brasserie directly adjacent to the hotel’s entrance, Le Relais des Pyrénées. It was there that we first encountered the charm and salesmanship of the Parisian maitre-d: no sooner were we looking carefully at the hand-chalked menu by the door than we were noticed and he was encouraging us to come in, ushering us with genuine smiles and welcoming gestures. We would sup there twice during our stay, and pop in one evening for coffee and dessert only, given its convenient location and convivial atmosphere. It was a small place, with more seating outside in the enclosed patio than indoors, but it was extremely comfortable for we strangers in a strange land.

I was kind of glad when my husband voiced that he was feeling overwhelmed. I’d much rather he say as much aloud than struggle in silence. Between my high school French, Google Translate, and the maitre d’s sparse English, we managed to place our orders for our first actual meal in Paris, and it was delicious.

I will forever be thankful for the YouTube videos and e-book by Les Frenchies, Antoine and Colleen, whose advice on restaurant ordering and Metro travel was incredibly helpful. I had made it a point to record their suggestions in our travel plans (on each page of our itinerary, in fact), and whenever we sat down to eat, I immediately would ask for “une carafe d’eau, s’il vous plait”. The variety of water jugs and glassware was as delightful as the food itself.

Can you tell how desperately I want to go back?

After dinner, and another walk down the block to seek out bedtime snacks (I have to eat with some of my medications) and lactose-free milk for Husband (which we could not find), we were finally sufficiently worn out again to retire to our rooms. We were housed in two adjacent single rooms on the third floor of the boutique hotel — our daughter’s first time having a whole hotel room to herself! I never did get video of the tiny elevator, but I did get the stairs:

They’re so picturesque, but after a full day of walking on cobblestones, we would learn to loathe those stairs…

I’m holding tightly to these memories. They really are fuelling me. I am also trying not to overdo talking about our trip with my friends, because I don’t want to be insufferable, but this kind of perseverating is just so joyful, it’s difficult to stop. But lingering over memories isn’t all I did today. I had my usual (since summer) lovely Thursday morning thrift shopping / item sourcing and brunch with my dear friend who owns a secondhand clothing store, and then I spent my afternoon working on my college course materials. I’m finding the material to be truly refreshing, and aiming to provide assignments that will be portfolio-worthy for the students. (Part of me is still incredulous that despite my vow last year to never work in education again, here I am embarking on a job in post-secondary… amazing!) I haven’t yet gotten to working on my own manuscripts today, but I did make arrangements with my editing client for a meeting, and I got some laundry done. I also attended a virtual orientation meeting for part-time faculty, and walked to the store for supper things.

All things come in their own time, I suppose.

Tomorrow’s goals will include two appointments in the morning, continuing to develop my course outline and online materials, finishing the details on my friend’s daughter’s doll clothes (I have completed a cardigan, pants, booties, and have started a hat), doing dishes (though I should try to get some done this evening before I go to bed, especially with my beloved son and his girlfriend on their way for the weekend), more laundry… I don’t find it likely that I will get to my own stories among all of those things, but wouldn’t it be nice if I could?

A little more on Icelandair

First, the obligatory disclaimer: I have not received any compensation from Icelandair for the following review, nor for yesterday’s blog. This is just me sharing my and my family’s experience with the airline.

I chose Icelandair for our trip in part because it was more economical than the other airlines offering non-stop and layover flights. So much better financially, the cost of three seats with extra leg room were the equivalent of one seat on a major airline! Plus, with my husband having always wanted to see Iceland, the seven-day layover offer was too interesting to pass up. The more I thought about the prospect of some downtime in the relatively quieter environment of Reykjavik after the bustle of Paris, the more logical it sounded.

And overall, we were pretty satisfied with the decision. I pre-ordered food from the online menu, to avoid having to spend extra money on the flight, and the meals were fresh and delicious. At first we kept things simple: on the first flight, to Keflavik, I had a turkey pretzel sandwich, while spouse and daughter each had a baguette with ham and cheese. Then, on the way to Paris, I tried the baguette, which my husband and our almost-adult child enjoyed for a second time. When we left to return home, our daughter kept going with the familiar ham and cheese, but hubby had a steak sandwich and I tried a Nordic open-face sandwich. The traditional Icelandic meal I had on the final leg of the journey home included caviar, which I’d never tried before, and skyr with sweet apple topping, and it was all amazing. My partner had selected the turkey pretzel sandwich, which I think he may have slightly regretted when he saw my food, and daughter had her reliable baguette with the ham and cheese.

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

The best part of our four-part flight series was the jump from Paris to Reykjavik, because we ended up in the row of seats by the emergency exit and not only did I have enough leg room to mermaid, but the seat next to our daughter was empty and hubby got have a window seat on a plane for the first time in his life.

However, what I found uncomfortable in that row was the flip-up video screen and table. As a tall person, I found it a bit tight when they were in position.

And I need to look into exactly how much extra leg room we actually received, just because I’m curious. The three other flights in which we sat in those rows, paying a little bit more for seat selection and to accommodate my knees, still felt kind of scrunched, though I was able to move around. Unfortunately, the fourth leg was the most uncomfortable for me as I was already in significant pain from other vehicles (mostly buses) where I had to fold myself to fit. According to my chiropractor, my tailbone was in a lot of trouble.

The knowledge I gained from all of this? The next time we go to Iceland and/or Europe — because I am determined, there will be a next time — I / we will splurge on Saga Premium seats, otherwise known as business class. I had told myself, when planning and booking and spending the money on the journey, that it wouldn’t be that bad to sit in economy: the flights were long-ish, but we had the break to switch planes on the way and then the three days of layover on the way back, and really, what’s a handful of hours in comparison to all of the other things we were going to see and do?

Another factor to consider is that my husband couldn’t sleep on the flight because he requires a CPAP machine and Icelandair planes do not come equipped with power sockets for devices like that. He’s been on the waiting list for a new machine that can work with a battery, but it didn’t arrive in time for our trip. In hindsight, that was probably just as well, because there really wasn’t room in the rows for his machine to fit. BUT in future, if we get Saga class seating, that would solve that problem, which would be especially helpful given that the flight tends to leave Toronto after 7 pm and is basically an overnighter.

Bottom line: what with the friendly flight attendants, the good service, tasty food and coffee, decent selection of movies and TV shows, plus smooth landings, I’m glad we went with Icelandair and I will book with them again. They can take my money.

On a related note: A family member recently told me that they would never fly because they don’t want to give into the airline culture of spending more for more comfortable seats on increasingly crowded planes, which I kind of understand, and a dear friend refuses to fly because the cumulative environmental impact is too severe. I can understand these reasons, and to some extent, I agree … except that refusing to fly would mean limiting my / our abilities to experience other parts of the world. I suppose we could have chosen and could still choose a carbon-neutral ocean crossing, but that would take more time than we have available for the travel itself. So we are accepting and giving into the status quo in the service of the higher goal of seeing new places, with the knowledge that travel — especially international travel, discovering and immersing ourselves in other cultures and learning about people in those cultures — helps to build not only an appreciation for home, humanity, and life in general, but also fosters our abilities to empathize. To me, that makes flying worth it … although it would be nice if the 1% in charge of airlines would focus less on the profits of packing people into those metal tubes. Just saying. How much money do they really need?

Another reason to choose a relatively smaller airline, I suppose…

Anyway, the jury is out on when our next trip will be. Household bills need to come first, of course. But it would be lovely to say that we’ll return to Iceland in the fall, perhaps for my lovely husband’s 50th birthday. Should I start getting estimates now?

An afternoon of HR courses and knitting… and daydreaming memories of Paris and Reykjavik

The process of returning to in-person paid work is a slow build. This afternoon, I completed some required training and submitted documents proving that I had completed said training, but there will be a little more to do tomorrow.

I did not miss WHMIS (1998).

I also decided to switch up from almost-daily small crochet projects and go back to knitting. A good friend’s daughter was gifted a Baby Reborn for Christmas and needs some doll clothes, so I found some appropriate patterns and made one dress while watching the videos on various policies and procedures. I hope it fits.

Paris remains in the back of my mind, as does Reykjavik. It was such an overall positive experience, I’m choosing to hang on to the feeling of empowerment and possibility that enveloped me from the moment we stepped onto the pavement outside of our hotel. I think I had the same sensation at the airports, but not with the same power as the actual arrival: Going to Toronto Pearson was exciting, but more stressful than positive; the prospect of finding Icelandair’s counter was intimidating, as were the self-serve kiosks for flight check-in and luggage tags, which were incredibly busy. In every stage of boarding each flight to and from Keflavik Airport, we forgot (while being overwhelmed) and relearned that it was helpful to keep our passports and boarding passes out or at ready hand, and customs was stressful also, despite the helpful advice from various YouTube videos that it would feel rushed but would not need to be. And the wait for our luggage at Charles-de-Gaulle, followed by meeting our driver and being whisked down the highway to the 20th Arrondissement, added anticipation and trepidation to the weariness of the long flights in cramped conditions (despite having seats with extra legroom). No, it was when our journey to location ended and we stepped out of the van into the gentrified Parisian neighbourhood that all of the planning and spending since August felt validated. In that moment, I felt better and stronger than I had since the summer of 2019.

Preparing for my new part-time job feels different, of course, but no less positive. I want to use the travel experience to fuel my interest in the course content, as well as the drive to complete the manuscripts that have been sitting on pause for several years. But I have to be so careful with how I use my energy on a daily basis… I need to get back to using the language of spoons.

And I want (need) to finally set up a separate page or website for my editing and proofreading service. Which is better, a connected page or a new site altogether?

How do I balance all of these things? It seems to be an eternal question, my personal albatross. But I got my husband and our daughter to Paris for her 18th birthday, when at this time last year, it was only the vaguest of seemingly impossible dreams. I can find a way to run an editing service, self-publish my own books, stories, and poems, and teach a college course part-time. I know I can.

The spin around the sun continues

Welcome to 2024.

I hope that your winter holidays were pleasant, uneventful (or positively eventful), and that you are in a good place. If you’re struggling, I hope that things start going better.

I want to apologize for another long absence from this blog — but I worry that that will sound repetitive. It happens too much. While good things have been happening in my life over the last few months, I have also been coping with the usual, ongoing struggles, including trying (and coping with) a new medicine for my treatment-resistant chronic depression and anxiety, ketamine and lidocaine infusions.

Jury is still out on the overall / lasting effects of the infusions — I have only had two so far, and the second was deeply challenged by the stresses and stressors of the holiday season.

I am determined, though. I still want to make a career out of my writing, and am carrying on with editing; I want to see a specialist to settle officially whether I am on the spectrum or not (some family members don’t seem to believe me, despite the pile of peer-reviewed questionnaires indicating that I am autistic), and I am continuing to do things that scare me, but in good ways. In the fall, the things that scared me the most were planning and going with my family to Paris and Reykjavik for my daughter’s 18th birthday, and applying for a part-time job as a college course instructor.

And now I have accomplished both.

I think I will write a series of blog posts about our trip, for posterity. The Internet is forever, after all. And as I go into the delivery of Organizational Behaviour, I will share some of my experiences as a part-time college professor, something I honestly never thought I would do. I’m starting out at three hours of instruction per week, to see how my body and brain responds. The contract ends in April. This time constraint is helpful.

Because I really would prefer not to go through another (autistic) burnout. But I also want to challenge myself, contribute in meaningful ways, and produce creative works to the world. And pay my bills, please.

Cheers 🙂

The learning curve continues — current focus: social media ad campaigns

This past week, I ran a basic ad on Facebook (Meta) for my anthology. I decided to go with another week and a more visually interesting virtual poster, and ran into a snag.

The platform didn’t like it. Said my ad had violated the policy of “circumventing systems”. I’m not sure why… here’s the original, made with Pages. Maybe someone out there can tell me what I did wrong:

At first, I’d gone with an orange background because it’s Hallowe’en-y, but that made the text too hard to read. When I switched to a more yellow hue, the shade reminded me of a flashlight — even more so when I played with the sliding colour gradation and landed on the round shading from the corners in.

But Meta thinks the graphic is trying to hide something. Or maybe it didn’t like my use of the em-dash?

So I clicked for a review request, and waited. I suppose I could have also selected the chat option, to learn more, but when I went back and looked at it again, I thought maybe I could just redo the visuals.

It’s been a few years since I last used Canva, so I had to start over with a fresh account. I’d forgotten how enjoyable that software is to play with! After scrolling through the options, here is what I came up with:

• 

• 

Much more satisfying… although I also did like the look of a flashlight and contemplated using a desk or a wall and trying to add that element, somehow.

This reminds me that in the process of making Leave the Lights On into an ebook, I discovered a couple of errors that I’d missed in the creation of the print copy. So I need and want and want and need to refresh that file as well, because it is still a darling little spooky pocket-sized collection of stories and I still want it to present itself as best as it can.

I’ve also been working on the new covers for the Talbot Trilogy. Two are done! And I’m excited for the reveals. However, I have been procrastinating on loading the refreshed Mist and Midnight file to my chosen platform, partly because just when I think I’ve spotted every problem and solved every issue, another one will crop up every time I submit the thing and look at the resulting file. It’s enough to make one want to throw solid objects against vertical surfaces. And I’ve been fighting to change my routines, still dealing with regular fatigue and assorted challenges. So perhaps this blog will help to keep me accountable.

And yes, I know I know I know I need to finish my business plan. Although people who are close to me and knowledgeable about small businesses — a good friend, and my spouse — have suggested that at this juncture, I have enough, and could reasonably register my editing service, since I don’t need a completed plan for that. Adding to the list…

But on the plus side, a package arrived a few days ago: a paper dollhouse model that I’d ordered through Etsy in August. It’s the Sanderson Sisters’ cottage from Hocus Pocus! So of course, in the midst of putting off the more difficult things, I decided to devote some hours to cutting out the pieces and constructing the model . . . and I’m quite pleased with the results!

One day, in the near or far future, I would like to use this model as the basis for a cardboard or even wood model of the cottage. But this is enough for now. Plus, I still have the spooky WWDITS-inspired dollhouse to work on.

Priorities! Time blocks! Rewards! Short- and long-term goals! Celebrate the victories! etc.

Aaaand now it’s time for bed… can’t do any of the things without proper rest.

New dollhouse piece!

Among my hobbies is a deep love for all things miniature — particularly the Littles (by Mattel) and anything in 1:24 scale. I still harbour a deep desire to write an epistolary novel about a creepy haunted dollhouse. Maybe this will help to inspire me?

I was first gifted the Littles’ furniture sets (kitchen, bathroom, living room, bedroom) when I was around 5 or 6 (I think), and although last year I realized the bathroom set was missing, I still had most of the rest. Except the dolls. They had long been lost, especially after a bout of unfortunate hair-cutting…

Early in my time away from paid work, while getting through the pandemic and beginning my recovery process from burnout/breakdown, I discovered that it was possible to get a second-hand Littles’ dollhouse — or even a new-in-box! And even better, I found a good condition second-hand dollhouse in my own province!

So I splurged and a childhood dream was achieved. Actually… I think it unlocked a bit of a monster.

Since then, I have been collecting other pieces from the series. I had to get another dollhouse in order to replace the missing chimney and front doors, and that spare structure is being remodelled into a spookier dwelling inspired by the show What We Do In The Shadows — a blog post for another time. Last spring, I finally got the whole of the primary family characters, too, including the baby! And I found a rare piece in 2022: the player piano (although I continue to be tempted by the few new-in-package pianos I see now and then, as they come with the stool and I don’t have the stool…).

Utter madness, this obsession with a 1980s toy set.

But as someone who struggles regularly with mental health challenges, the kind of joy that these pieces bring me is almost indescribable. I must share, to make up for the days when my thoughts and writings are more maudlin than joyful.

I tend to get extremely over-enthusiastic when someone expresses interest or when something new comes in, and so it happened again today, when one item arrived that I had been searching for since mid-2021: the rare yellow breakfront hutch.

I immediately ambushed both my daughter and her boyfriend when they came home after school, and she had to tell me to calm down when I insisted on giving him the grand mini tour. My beloved spouse, before going off to his night shift, urged me not to take the yellow hutch out of the package, but I am of the view that toys are meant to be loved. And so the rare breakfront (with its wee good teapot and platter!!!) has finally arrived at its purpose, and its home…

As you can see, there are a few whimsical pieces that aren’t necessarily part of the Littles’ die cast and plastic furnishing and décor. It bothers me a little bit that I’ve added those, as though I’m interfering with the purity of the toy. But there are certain things that I can’t help but want to improve — the bathroom doesn’t need to be so big, for example, and would benefit from a room-dividing folding screen so that the children have a proper nursery. The walls inside the rooftop cupola are awfully bare, as are the stairs. Now that I have the missing pieces (except the piano stool), I think I can start playing with filling in those gaps. And perhaps even one day affix new wallpaper and flooring to give it an even more authentic miniature room feel…

But for now, my inner child is squealing in delight. And the next project remains the creepy haunted dollhouse, both practically and in the words of my pages…

Thank you for sharing my joy with me!

Painful reminders to be careful of physical activity

Today has been a day of working around muscle and fibre protests against the abuse of squats and lifts in yesterday’s process of cleaning the pond.

I really need to remember to take ibuprofen before undertaking any strenuous exercise. The aches and stiffness have not only restricted the most basic activities and made walking painfully slow and difficult — plus just plain painful — it also impacted my mood and my patience. Thankfully, my 17-year-old was at school and then out with friends and her boyfriend at the local midway for most of the evening. And a lovely friend stopped by to take me to lunch, which was also a huge lift.

Sigh. I would have liked an actual physical lift to help me in and out of her car…

One bonus of not being able to move very much is that I felt encouraged to start poking through stock images again, formulating ideas for a new cover for Mist and Midnight. As much as I adore the original, perhaps a total refresh is the way to go.

So far, polling some of my closest friends has narrowed the potential designs down to two. One is a little more suggestive than the other, but I may reserve that bedroom photo for the back cover, because it really does suit the story.

I’ll sleep on it and see how the images feel tomorrow. And pick up the iron pills I have been told I must now take twice daily, or possibly schedule an IV infusion instead… Good times.

Tomorrow I must also work time in for reading offline, and writing something fun. Working on stories always lifts my spirits.

Pond Maintenance Day

The season for the pond is nearly over, but we have another week or two of nice weather so today I refreshed about 2/3 of the water for the turtle and goldfish. Next year I definitely need to invest in those little water weeds that help to reduce algae. I skimmed a lot of fallen leaves and debris out of the pond, but I can’t help but wonder whether the aquatic creatures are actually enjoying the increase in natural substrate — why, you may ask? Because at least three times I accidentally scooped out fish along with the leaves! From the bottom of the pond!

In the middle of that, I found myself contemplating again whether to create my own covers for the books in The Talbot Trilogy. I’ve done it before, and this time of year lends itself well to the setting of each novel. My crabapple tree is heavy with fruit (also contemplating what to do with it — this is the first year since we moved in that the crabapples have done so well, they’re bending the branches!) and the changing leaves on various shrubs and vines are beautifully coloured. I could stage something with objects. I could also look for and purchase some stock images to compose something appropriate. Maybe tomorrow I’ll look into that.

The pond cleaning wore me out. It’s very good exercise, involving squats and lifts. Tomorrow I need to follow a similar pattern in cleaning the indoor fish and turtle tanks, prepping for the return of the creatures inside either by the end of the month or in early October — last year, I brought them in too soon and felt badly that they missed the unexpected few warm days in mid-autumn. After all, the water holds the temperature for longer than you’d think. Once we start getting regular frost, that’ll be the signal. And then I must remember to also drain the pond completely and cover it to protect the wild things like birds from getting stuck in the cavity when the snow melts in the spring… fishing dead winged things out of the dark water was so wrong, back in May.

But those crabapples… we have a ton of canning supplies, I wonder if my beloved spouse would be into making preserves this week?

I could pick up some lemon juice and try drying them, making crisps, and I found a recipe for crabapple cake. Would my daughter’s baking class be willing to use them? I wonder if they would be willing to come and pick them as part of a mini-field trip? Failing that, could the local food bank use them?