happy new year

Over at Murderati, a sort of New Year's mantra formed yesterday, one I like so much I've adopted it as my own for 2008.

Write More. Write Better. Write Faster. From The Heart.

I also aim to Ride With Schwung.

And to Treasure My Family.

In an odd moment of whimsy I said to my husband I intend to Have More Parties.

Imagine what a year it will be.

it pours

And thunders. And lightnings.

We have rivers running through the front field.

And guess what? I'm the mom of a teenager!

when it rains

We've suddenly got rainfall, days of it, at year's end, as though the earth and sky are playing catch up. I'd forgotten how mucky the paddocks get when we have days of rain and four horses weighing in at 650 lbs. up to 1200 lbs. marching through many times a day.

Yesterday they had blankets on but today they'll come off and our break from grooming mud-slicked hides will be over. They seem to take perverse pleasure in rolling just after being groomed.

Today we'll get enough of a rain break for a couple of riding lessons.

Inside, it's raining pages of novels. I have three word docs open right now and have added to them all this week, randomly, as the words came out.

Cranky cats are ambushing one another, bored but not wanting to go out in the wet. One black cat sits snoring by my left ear while another sits at the sliding glass door gazing, pensive. The corgis love the rain and often stay out in it, but this morning Kyra has spent her time herding people out of bed and cats around the living room. Intervening in the cranky cat play when it gets too ferocious.

christmas day pause

We've spent the day together but now everyone has wandered off to their own pursuits. Daughter to her art studio where she is enjoying new oil paints, blank canvases, empty sketchpads, and charcoal pencils. Her first sketch was of Keil Bay, and she captured his eye and his whiskers with perfection.

Son is in his room listening to a new soundtrack he bought with an iTunes card from his stocking. It became apparent this year that he spent most of his gift budget on me: a pair of moonstones in a filmy bag, a tiny flask, and a skeleton key, all of which will find their way onto my little writing shrine in my garret. His blank canvas is money in his account, which he's saving for something special.

Husband is on a reconnaisance mission in town.

Horses are making peace with the little electric car across the road while they munch their hay in the front field. They've all galloped up the hill a number of times, more frolic than fear, heads high and ears pricked forward.

Cats are curled in various spots in the living room, worn out from new toy play and too much catnip.

Corgyn are outside sleeping flat out; after turkey necks, iced dog biscuits from the doggie bakery, and a few regular biscuits, what more is there to do but dream of running wild with a pack of their own kind, across a misty moor in Wales?

Merry Christmas! Don't forget to stop for a moment and let it all sink in.

solstice gifts

This year, it was ravens in the barn and a baby raccoon in the paddock. For whatever reason, I found myself writing about both those things in my nonfiction book rather than here. Which in the big picture is a Good Thing, but I couldn't leave camera-obscura sitting abandoned, so here's a photo of the solstice baby. The perfect balance of light and dark in its coloring.



And what's up with sitemeter? I'm taking this as a humorous holiday gift - at the top of the page was an ad for an iWife, while on the side an ad for Ambien was scrolling. Hilarious.