Temps perdu (Day 308/365)

I may as well confess it, since Marc will blow my cover if I don’t: this post was written tomorrow.

The problem with the Land of the Pan-Dimensional Mice is that time is a mouse:

The Mouse Whose
Name Is Time

The Mouse whose name is Time
Is out of sound and sight.
He nibbles at the day
And nibbles at the night.

He nibbles at the summer
Till all of it is gone.
He nibbles at the seashore.
He nibbles at the moon.

Yet no man not a seer,
No woman not a sibyl
Can ever ever hear
Or see him nibble, nibble.

And whence or how he comes
And how or where he goes
Nobody dead remembers,
Nobody living knows.
–Robert Francis

And so today/yesterday passed with nothing creative from me. The Time Mouse ate it all up.

My great fear, and I knew this when I started this project last August 1, is that the rest of my days will be nibbled by the Time Mouse here at GHP. It’s entirely possible. I know for a fact that I will not, cannot, get anything done before next Thursday. It will be the first day of minors here, which outside the Land of Pan-Dimensional Mice means “I will have 1:30-4:00 free.” It is realistically the only time I have to work on anything of my own: dawn to 1:30 is spent supervising the instruction here, plus lunch; 4:00-5:30, I usually am meeting with staff about the morning; 5:30-9:30, supper plus whatever evening activity is on; and 9:30-11:00, mopping up the day’s damage.

So I freely admit that today was a total miss. Or yesterday, depending on when you believe I wrote this.

Could have been worse, of course. I considered channeling Francis Urquhart and writing, “I was creative today in ways I cannot possibly talk about.”

Stress (Day 302/365)

It’s beginning to get to me that I haven’t committed a creative act in a week. I know, I’ve been shutting down school, and today was given over to trying to get the new appliances installed and the cats to the vet, but still. My goal was to create something every day.

I don’t like failing in my commitments, so this is an underlying stress that is exacerbated by the very things that are keeping me from creating.

For example, the installation of the appliances. The guys from Sears showed up at about 11:30, and that was fine. It was no problem at all emptying the refrigerator quickly, I had already emptied the freezer and culled the contents of the refrigerator itself, and moving the old appliances out was a snap.

Moving the new ones in was a snap as well. Hooking them up was not a problem. But then the stove wouldn’t fit correctly in the cutout in the island. We looked it over and decided that however the old stove (with the same dimensions) had fit in there, the new one had to slide further back and was being stopped from doing that by the gas pipe. We decided that the gas pipe had to be dropped back down into the basement and the stove hooked up down there, thus allowing the whole thing to fit firmly into the island.

Only the Sears guys couldn’t do that. Were they telling me that all they did was bring the appliance into the house and plug them in, I asked incredulously? That was exactly what they were telling me. A call to Sears confirmed that when I paid for installation, what they actually meant was plugging in, something which I was quite capable of doing for myself, a fact I pointed out to the manager. Abashed, he volunteered to take the installation charge off the bill.

That did not solve my problem, which was that I wanted to have these appliances completely installed by the end of the day so that Ginny wouldn’t have to deal with it on Monday after I was gone. (The water line to the icemaker in the refrigerator was also nonfunctional.)

I did track down a contractor who could do the job, but he couldn’t come until tomorrow morning. I had to be satisfied with that.

On a more positive note, both appliances functioned beautifully. The refrigerator is quiet and the stove works like a charm.

On a still more positive note, we watched a lovely movie called Malèna which we highly recommend you add to your Netflix list. It had lain around the house for months, and we were never “in the mood” to watch it. Foolish, indeed. I can’t remember now why I had added it to the list, but it’s a wonderful movie. And Monica Belucci is stunningly gorgeous.

Still in limbo (Day 300/365)

You would think that on this day I would have made an effort to create something, but I’m still in that shutting-down-school mode, only with a Promethean board to play with, only it won’t respond to the laptop’s Bluetooth. And I still have to manage the county’s elementary school MARC records conversion with Follett.

And at some point I have to start getting into getting-ready-for-GHP mode, which I haven’t yet, and I leave on Monday.

And my van was in the shop, ostensibly to get a couple of lights replaced but eventually having brake work done on front and back, and postponing the “seepages” around the manifold intake until I get back. That took until 5:30.

So did I get any actual creative work done? Nope.

Nothing, really (Day 295/365)

Last day of school, and on top of that I had a doctor’s appointment, continuing circulation database woes, and the installation of my Promethean board. I got one or two more ideas jotted down for Thurgood’s song (and emailed Mike a suggestion for a gag in the first scene), but other than that, I didn’t really create.

We went to see Shrek the Third. Lots of good will, but it didn’t really click. Unless they can come up with a really rousing plot, they ought to retire the franchise.

70 days to go.

Nothing (Day 294/365)

Today was my niece Hayley’s high school graduation, so the entire evening was spent crammed into the bleachers at the stadium. I tried to jot down some of the unusual ladies Thurgood might sing about, but it’s hard to write down things like “three breasts” when people are curious as to what one might be writing down in one’s little black book.

71 days to go.

Not nothing, really (Day 288/365)

I have in fact created two margaritas, two superlative margaritas, and I have consumed them, sitting on my front porch in the glorious weather, reading the New York Times and doing the crossword puzzle. In a moment, I will fetch Children of Húrin and read it. And maybe I’ll create another margarita.

If that is not a well-made life, I’d like to know what is.

77 days to go.

Nothing (Day 287/365)

You would think, on a day where I had nothing, and I mean nothing, in particular to do, I would accomplish something. But alas, no.

Part of it is that odd inertia that happens when you don’t have to get busy on the next project, i.e., there’s no deadline looming over you. The old metaphor of that standing time between tides, or between waves, will serve. You just wait for the next tug of the moon to get you moving again.

Of course, I do have a deadline looming over me. Last year I wrote a snarky monthly column for Grant Wiggins’ Big Ideas website, but they sort of stalled out midyear. Now they’re back, with a grand opening set for June 1, and they want a column. I sat down yesterday to start to work on it and realized I had no ideas.

I emailed my editor to see if there were a theme I could leech off of. Actually, I went to the website to see if they were announcing a theme. No, but they were inviting people to submit material for their new and improved site. They had two examples: an article by Grant Wiggins and a snarky column on standards by Dale Lyles. That was no help at all. So then I emailed my editor.

She was heading into a meeting the purpose of which was just that, so later I got a list of topics. By that time, my inertia was complete. I’ll have to tackle it tomorrow.

78 days to go.

New York, Day 4, Part 2 (Day 243/365)

Oh. My. God.

And I don’t mean that in a good way.

After a quick bite of pizza for supper, we gathered ourselves and went to see The Pirate Queen, Schönberg and Boublil’s new show. I had not heard a great deal of excited buzz about the show, it’s still in previews, and I had heard a few negative rumors, but I liked Les Miserables, so I booked it.

I should have known better.

After an excruciatingly soggy opening sequence, which didn’t tell us anything except that Grace O’Malley wanted to be a sailor and her daddy the chieftain wouldn’t let her because she was a girl, we finally sort of got under way when she sneaked on board the ship anyway. In disguise! As a boy! And when a storm will capsize the ship unless somebody , somebody!, climbs up there! and gets! that! sail! down!, and look, the cabin boy we’ve never seen before in ultra-closeknit Clan O’Malley is brave! But it’s only Grace. Bad Grace. And then the English attack. Good thing Grace is good with a sword, huh?

::sigh::

There’s a true love, natch, but she’s married off to handsome but creepy Donal of the rival O’Flaherty clan, natch, but none of this goes anywhere. (Donal looks like a buff Legolas, an unfortunate design choice which is only reinforced in the tavern scene with curly-headed drinking partners: oh, look, they’ve got hobbits, too!) More “You’re a girl” crap. And then we meet Elizabeth I. It is a measure of this show that the English court under Elizabeth I is the comic relief.

Act II (I’m going to skip some here) opens with Grace having a baby on board her ship. The English attack, and her scum husband Donal wants to surrender. Thank goodness Tiernan, her true love, suggests otherwise, and of course Grace rouses herself from her childbed to stab an English or two. Then she sends Donal packing, under a peculiarly generous hold-harmless clause in sixteenth-century Irish marriage law.

I will spare you the rest of the show.

It is hopeless, this show. I cannot wait to read the review after it opens Thursday night.

However, if anyone knows Frank Galati, the director, or Graciela Danielle, the “musical staging” person, pass them these notes:

Cut the opening. Start with the storm. Same scenario, and that’s how we meet our star.

Give her one “Ariel” number, then don’t bring up the “You’re a girl” thing again until the inevitable song paralleling Grace and Elizabeth’s boy troubles.

After we discover, gasp, that the cabin boy is a girl, and do not mention the chieftain’s daughter before that, please, have Dad decide to send her home. But then the English attack. Then she gets to stay. Introduce the boyfriend then.

Cut to Elizabeth. Establish her as Grace’s equal in spirit. Spread the wit/venom/comedy around Ireland as well as England.

Cut back to Ireland. Just as boytoy Tiernan is about to ask for Grace’s hand, Daddy, flush with victory, announces the O’Flaherty alliance.

They’ll have to figure out how to make the Grace/Tiernan/Donal triangle work, I can’t do everything, but I do have one more critical idea for them.

Lord Bingham is a highlight of the show, but cut him. Instead of him, use Essex. If you’re going to screw with history, at least use the good parts. Essex was and could be in this show Elizabeth’s love and bête noire. Elizabeth sends her boytoy to fight Grace. He could succeed. Go ahead and imprison Grace (as happens in the show now). But blend Essex’s betrayal of Elizabeth with Tiernan’s sacrifice for Grace. Elizabeth executes Essex; Grace sails home with Tiernan. Big number for all.

The whole point of the musical was not Grace’s love story. It’s the pitting of one powerful woman against another in an age that did not trust or value either one. Love’s part of a total person’s package, sure, yada yada yada, but I would never in this day and age have your plucky heroine who has spent the entire musical whining about how cool it is to be a woman to crown her story with a lyric about not being a real woman until she listens to her heart.

So yes, as usual, I think I could do better. But not with Boublil & Schönberg. They’ve lost any talent they had for songwriting. God, that music was boring! Get me Ahrens & Flaherty on the phone. Pirate Queen is going down with the ship.

Nothing, really (Day 234/365)

Other than clean house and cook for a lovely dinner party, I didn’t get a lot done.

I did explore a to-do list kind of website, stikkit.com, which has some interesting features, but again, I don’t want to have to open a website just to keep track of all my stuff. It might be good for short term collaborative kinds of things, like getting people’s input on what restaurant to go to after the Louvre exhibit. But daily basis, I don’t think so.

I also ditched my old recipe software for a new one that is much more Mac-like and easier to use. I used to use MasterCook, but they stopped making a Mac version, fools, and it’s hard to find something that well-designed. But I think MacGourmet is going to do it for me.

I did not get to the two simple things I wanted to do this weekend, i.e., listen to the next two pieces in William Blake and polish them a bit.