The Writing Moment
He worked on a chapter, again, then again. Boredom sank its teeth in him. He found himself chasing clickbait on the net.
A muse slapped him. “Hey. It doesn’t work. It’s not needed. Delete the chapter, fool.”
Well, there it was. He did so, but saved it as a doc. Just in case.
Sacrifice
She brought me a small white plate.
Two dark pieces nestle on it. I stare at them, then shift the stare to her.
I had been smelling them since I came into the house after my coffee house writing session. Chocolate.
K is on a diet. Today is day 30. She is allowed to add one thing today. She added vegan honey to her breakfast amaranth. Now she waits three days to see if there’s a reaction. If a reaction — pain, a flare, stiffness — is experienced, that item is banned from her diet. Forever. Then she resets for a few days and adds another item. If no reaction is felt, she adds another item and waits three days. So it goes.
This means that she can’t eat what’s on the plate.
She’s hosting book club next month. The moderator opted for something lighter for March. Lessons in Chemistry. Bonnie Garmus. Kay is making vegan brownies studded with chocolate chips. These are vegan chips from Trader Joe’s. Vegan butter was used. This is a test batch. A Ghirardelli mix was used.
“Taste these,” she tells me. “Tell me what you think.”
She can’t have them. Diet. Two of the Ashlandians in the book club are vegan.
I force myself to eat a chewy, gooey vegan brownie.
“Wonderful chocolate taste. Not too sweet. Greasy,” I announce. That makes sense to her. There was something about the vegan butter melting and then measuring it again. She didn’t do that. “And they’re not done enough.”
“Five more minutes?”
“Maybe just three.”
She nods. She’ll make another test batch this week.
They go great with black coffee on a winting Ashlandia afternoon. An entire tray waits for me in the kitchen.
I’ll need to pace myself or it might be death by chocolate.
Worth Pondering
He’s been watching ‘His Dark Materials’ and enjoying it. The novels by Phillip Pullman were fun, and this series seems faithful. The Gallivespians fascinate him. Such tiny people, no taller than a hand, with tiny leather clothing and boots. Their hair must be so tiny, as are the seams on their soles. They are so adorable. Deadly, but adorable.
The Writing Moment
His backside had landed on the writing seat. Critically, fresh coffee was at hand with its inspirational aroma. Writing yesterday began like he was trying to unlock a rust-infused iron lock. It became an enjoyable and productive session. In a better mood today, he hoped for like success. You could never tell how it would turn out. The important thing was to attack it and get it done, day by day, session by session.
Saturday’s Theme Music
Saturday’s broken, like the first mornin’. We’re up to Feb. 11, 2023. Plenty of time for this year yet.
Sunshine cracked the day at 7:13 AM, fulfilling dawn’s potential in big way. Blue sky with striations of clouds like towels waiting for the laundry hover around Ashlandia. Sitting at 42 F., the cats are pleased with the sunshine, dry conditions, and temperatures. My spies tell me the weather prophets think we’ll see 52 F before sunshine is put behind Ashlandia’s horizon at 5:38 PM. Tomorrow, the spies whisper, it’ll be in the sixties before another front rolls in and drops us back into the land of rain and snow.
My wife continues her diet. She’s at 21 days and is enjoying its effects. Her RA pain and flares have subsided. Worst part is low energy in her opinion. I note that she’s not as mentally sharp. It’s not mentioned to her because it would depress her. She’s on a huge reading streak, going through two to four books a week, all fiction. She read Four Treasures of the Sky for her book club this week, along with Blake Crouch’s Dark Matter and Becky Chambers’s A Psalm for the Wild-built. She passed the last two on to me, recommending I read them. Dark Matter is on the pile behind Ancillary Sword. A Psalm was read and enjoyed. Fascinating and different concept and interesting story-telling style.
The Neurons have Three Dog Night singing “One” from 1969. I enjoy its drive and harmony. Harry Nilsson’s original version, meanwhile, is harmonically interesting, with a slower tempo, a more thoughtful but sadder experience. The Neurons went with the Dog but I included Nilsson’s version for comparison.
Coffee’s been drunk, breakfast consumed. Time to go write and roll. Stay pos. and have a solid Saturday.
Michael Seidel, writer 