Sorta Awetistic

happy trails to you

What a corny song, and yet it's the first thing that popped in my mind as I prepared for this entry.

With luck this weekend I'll finally archive all my posts and shut this baby down. So this is the big farewell...for now.

Next week I'm heading out for a long road trip to Annapolis with plans to visit both old and new friends along the way. Randy's calling it my "vision quest," and I supposed he's partly right about that. But this week, after eight hours of background reading about exoplanets and the Yellowstone caldera for my new writing gig, this new life looks a lot more prosaic than spiritual.

Yeah. Me, the girl who can't count past 10 is writing news briefs now about astonomy and such. Yes, me, the Fine and Liberal Arts do-you-want-fries-with-that Major. So I get handed an assignment about exoplanets. I know what one is only because Randy told me about them once...well, sort of. I probably wasn't listening closely.

So there I was, dutifully looking up the Fomalhaut b discovery, the first-ever direct optical imaging of an exoplanet, so exciting that it's got every astronomer busting their exclamation keys in gushes of hyperbole. And I see the picture of this LIFE CHANGING image, and what does it look like? The Eye of Sauron.

Now here's the real Eye of Sauron. (Don't you agree? --at least sort of?)

Naturally, that's how my Fine and Liberal Arts self began my first draft. "It may look like the Eye of Sauron..." (You can see where this is going...) My editor was unimpressed with the allusion. "I'm not going to imply this planet's related to unmitigated evil" were, I think, his words.

I am not complaining, though.

So Sauron got tossed, as did about six paragraphs I'd written in both briefs. I'm enjoying the work, but right now it's a pretty sharp learning curve. A couple of months from now I'll be a middle-aged hand at writing these briefs and then I'll begin looking for new challenges. From what I've seen from my editor, he'll have a few waiting for me if I want 'em.

Hope you all find fulfilling challenges this year, too. Despite the bad economy, I think each of us will find something pretty cool and new this year. Maybe it'll be close by, maybe eight states away. Who knows?

But when you do find it, drop me a line and share the news. Okay?

Peace and Happy Trails,
shanna

monkey costume

For Christmas Rach gave T a little bundle of craft supplies --all coordinated for project making-- which was a lovely, simple gift, completely suited to the little artist within my girl. (Better to give her two rocks and a roll of tape than a some pre-programmed computer game.)

This time the materials inspired her to dream up a monkey costume, one suited for Rachel's little two year old girl. T's totally enchanted with this idea, and with V's birthday coming in a month, we might have a little pressie in the making. (You didn't read that, V!)

Here's T drawing her costume. Note she begins with the ear and then works out the head. She often begins her sketches with the interior form and then moves on to the surface features. Or she works one distinctive feature and then builds the form around that feature.

If she ever works out how to manage her tremendous energy and slows down enough to focus on her drawing for more than a millisecond, who knows what might come out of her? Ah, but at six, she's doing pretty well. So I don't complain. But I do wonder...

Christmas

A quiet Christmas.  Followed by Boxing Day with friends. The darling pillow was designed by my friend's four year old daughter for her best friend, Joseph. Rachel transferred the drawing, embroidered it, and then finished it off as a pillow. Pretty spesh, if you ask me.

No big holiday projects, but I did make a new stocking for Randy. The old one was sad. And T wanted to design her own. Cheap felt means we could remake these each year. Ha. But T was so happy with hers that I doubt we'll remake it next year.

How was your Christmas?

the countdown

I'm dead-stopped with a terrible head cold, but the holiday season marches on.

Wrapping,
packing,
taping, snipping,
braking, breaking,
baking,
eating.

Sigh.
Not me.

I do adore this advent calendar still. We've lost two numbers and will have to replace them, but I think that's fine. It's fun to keep this stuff fresh. Who knows? Maybe five years from now T will have recreated all the bits for the whole calendar!

It's a great advent calendar.

and a happy hanukkah to you, too.

Feeling excessively grouchy this morning, so I headed over to the Daily Show for a little med-cin. Ahhh.

The Daily Show With Jon StewartM - Th 11p / 10c

Daily/Colbert - War on Hanukkah

Barack Obama Interview
John McCain Interview

Sarah Palin Video
Funny Election Video

the holiday scene

Actually a few scenes.

There's not much more charming than the artlessness of the elementary school production. (big sniff!) This year T got to perform as one of the mice in her school's production of The Nutcracker. (Note the mousie in the back, right side) She was super cute, I must say, in her little great sweats and mousie ears. Don't have a tripod, so unfortunately the pics I have from the evening are blurry. But as my friend, Rach, said, "You couldn't pick her out from the rest of the bunch!" That's a compliment.

Sitting next to a pediatric occupational therapist at the school play is different experience. Instead of the predictable gushings and remarks about the adorableness of the kiddos, I get to hear a running commentary on their behavior: "Well, there's the dispraxic one, there..." Really funny. Especially because our girls are likely to be the first ones bein' all dispraxic.

Next up: the gingerbread house. This year's version came from a kit. Had to mix up the dough, bake and cut it, too. Man, the cutting is tricky, 'specially since the kit made me use the little paper box house it came in for both a template and the interior support for the finished product. So the walls are a little wonky. T had a great time pouring the red hots over the roof and making the little footpath up to the door. And she wanted a door that opened, so she made one with felt. Mommy did most of the rest. Of course.

And finally: the Santa visit! T did a S-A-N-T-A cheer outside the Santa house and practiced what we wanted to ask for as we stood in line. She'd never been this excited.

This year's wish list?

1. a marble run
2. an accordian
3. a labber lamp (lava lamp)
4. a "Bath Blizzard" --the super bubble-maker she sees on TV.

Best part? No Barbie, no Bratz, no Disney princesses!!!! How did I get so lucky?

a laugh of recognition

"When someone asks you 'think about what Jesus would do,' remember that a valid option is to freak out and turn over tables." - Unknown

So long to Sorta-Awetistic: the plan.

Hey folks. It's me here with a big announcement.

I've made the decision to shutter Sorta-Awetistic at the end of the month.

You've probably noticed my blog presence has been pretty scattered lately. Not much going on here, and frankly, the blog itself is looking pretty stale. It hasn't escaped my notice. And there are several reasons for its shabby state, some of which are positive excuses for neglecting my own spot: I reading and researching; I have another writing outlet; I'm folding over-priced sweaters... Collectively they're telling me it's time to give up the spot and move on.

When I began my blogging over three years ago, I was truly isolated -- a stay-at-home mother, with a challenging wee child, just moved to this city and having no friends or family nearby-- and a formerly reliable social network gone kaput. Social creatures that we ultimately are, I eventually discovered a way that worked for me to connect with others. And thus, Sorta-Awetistic was born. It's been through a few incarnations, actually. Can you believe I once used xanga? (ugh.)

I'm not sure why blogging appealed. What with mothering and teaching so often on my plate in the last ten years, I never had the time to write for my own pleasure at all. Wasn't even thinking about taking up writing again. I think I knew some young people who had blogs, and I thought it'd be an interesting experiment. I distinctly remember the embarrassment I felt trying to dredge up something to say for my first entry and realising I had nothing to say. Actually I think I wrote something snarky about Dora the Explorer, who was briefly then in heavy rotation on the video at our house. (What do you MEAN you DON'T like DOra? The cadence still makes me cringe. Totally and utterly annoying.)

After I abandoned xanga I developed a new blog as a resource for other parents looking for autism treatments. That gave me something to say, but as I was living and breathing autism almost every moment of my day with not much space for me in there somewhere, I quickly realized the last thing I wanted to do was write about autism in my downtime. So then the blog became my play space. And I began writing fiction and getting to know some other writers with blogs. Maybe I was "finding my voice" but as I think that's likely a life-long process that's less about "finding" than "developing and experimenting," I think the blog allowed me to begin toying with the idea of that search. Sort of a practice run for the real adventure.

And through this, I eventually met and made friends with a couple of very cool and inspiring women. A bit like meeting pen pals. That was good fun. But otherwise this blog served as a cyber community point I shared with (mostly) strangers and a few friends and family who still faithly check on me.

It's time for a change now. I've been thinking about what I want to do here for several months -- and what I want to do is take a long break from a personal blog. I have several reasons for this. One of them is financial. This hosting site does offer splendid service, but it doesn't come free. So there's that. And, well, it's just time to take a break.

I have a couple of plans going for the transition. The first is to download what I want to keep from this site because when it goes off-line, everything here will disappear. The second is to eventually develop a private blog at a free site. I'm checking into that, and I know an open-source platform that will allow me to create one; it's just not as user-friendly for my level of computer skill. (Give me the idiot proof template and forget the code!) The point of the private blog is simply to keep close friends and family updated on my personal shenanigans--or really, T's shenanigans. Nothing fancy, but with T providing the entertainment, what's the point of fancy wrapping? I'll get in touch with you when that blog becomes available.

So that's that. I'll contribute a few things here through the rest of the month, and something for the holidays, surely, but Sorta-Awetistic will finish out December and then she's done.

Just wanted you to know.

the conjunction from my backyard

At about 6:30PM CST. Taken with a no big deal Cannon.

And again. I missed the close conjunction at T's quesadilla was burning. Ha. Probably could have done better with a tripod handy, but I'm satisfied.

T was convinced the brighter planet was Jupiter because, of course, bigger is brighter, right?

Ryan by Chris Landreth

(Note: Not for the kidlets. Or at least my kidlet. It would be too surreal. Eric took this down yesterday for a bit--copyright issues?--Anyway. Get over there quick before Eric pulls a fast one again.)

Somehow Eric over at Planet Waves has the complete short film.

Here's the Wiki short on it:

Ryan is a 2004 animated documentary by Chris Landreth about the influential Canadian animator Ryan Larkin, who in later years lived on skid row in Montreal following a history of drug and alcohol abuse.

Loads of stuff here about the lies we tell ourselves.

I think the ability to create is the ultimate grace. To begin again and again. To shape and reshape. To imagine and re-imagine. Each new shape, each new word--a grace.

This idea requires some conscious acknowledgment on my part, though. Too often and for too many unacceptable reasons the woo-woo wonder of it all eludes me and I'm either gritting my teeth against the next anticipated disappointment or ambling around in my Grumblebum costume.

I annoy myself this way. And if I'm so far gone in this attitude, surely I'm annoying others with the performance as well. So I try a bit of the woo-woo. Usually this arrives in the form of music. Truly, if I'm looking for a direct IV transfusion of the woo-woo of grace, hook me up to some music.

But I digress.

To begin again is a mercy. What happens when we deny ourselves that mercy?