Home Articles posted by KD Sarge (Page 5)

Curiosity Killed the Cat–Part 7

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Standing before another puzzle with the standard three answers, Jhi Bo decided she was becoming heartily sick of doors. Gerda muttered behind her, and Jhi Bo added that to the list of things making her want to pull her braids out—the incoherent mutterings of her companion. Though she doubted being able to understand would have been better. The girl was probably not thrilled with the competence on display by the heroes she must have thought would save the day with a quick bit of magic and perhaps a small swordfight. At least after their trek outside the maze, they had a lantern for their second attempt, though the girl still tended to let it droop by her side so that at every door Jhi Bo opened, the interior had a woman-holding-a-sword shaped shadow. And they had food, so when they caught up—Jhi Bo shook her head. When they caught up to that fool Srivasi, she would let Gerda feed her brother, but she would not offer food to that blasted mage. Why hadn’t he just waited for her? Because of the questions, she was sure. Srivasi needed to know and surely no maze could tempt him like one so clearly made by one like him—someone with that quest for any and all knowledge, no matter how useless or obscure. Jhi Bo opened a door, her sword at the ready since she couldn’t read the question, let alone guess the correct…

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Stuff Making Me Happy Right Now

Hush, this is a totally legitimate blog post. First up, The Mummy. I stumbled across an article about it this week, which of course made me want to go watch it. I arranged my schedule to do so (basically that meant deciding “sod off, writing, I’m gonna go enjoy” and went to grab it from the movie shelf and–no movie. No movieS, I should say, as I had the set. I checked the kid’s room (she wasn’t home, has been told before to stop stashing my movies in her room, and walks in my bedroom any time she pleases, so no, I don’t feel bad) then called her to demand where the hades my movie was. No idea. Of course. This is at least the third time. Last time it was Tremors I wanted to watch. And guess what? That was ALSO a boxed set, and I ALSO had to re-buy it in order to watch it. Kids. Sheesh. Don’t have kids. Oh, where was I? Right. The Mummy. I mean, what more do you need to know? There are so many little bits that just make me chortle. Beni hiding behind Evy as Imhotep summons his priests. Beni swearing in Hungarian. Rick striking a match on Ardeth Bey. Ardeth Bey’s delight in flying, and how much he clearly liked the gun from the plane… I’m sure you’ve seen it, but if you haven’t, go watch it. If you have–well, you should probably go watch it again. Next? I have…

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It’s All About the Floor Space

The first bedroom I remember was the smallest in our house then, so I always thought of it as small. Having seen some postage-stamp bedrooms since, on the other hand… But the room was small-ish. And then, as now, I wanted all the things, all the choices, all the options, and so it was full. Very full. I’m talking path to the bed and the rest of the floor covered maybe a foot deep, full. I don’t remember how long it was like that. I do remember once throwing a pillow to cover the face of a doll who was face-up and staring at me from a corner I couldn’t reach. That pillow stayed there a long time. After my mom passed, my dad rearranged things, giving himself the smallest bedroom. My brothers, who shared, moved up to the biggest, and I got the middle-sized, more than twice the size of my first room, and the only one with a closet. A huge closet, since some wise person had seen a room with no closet and simply built a wall across one end. Ta-da! But to get that room, I had to move my stuff. All my stuff, including more than a foot of sediment from the past few years. I remember lying across my bed, with a “move this” bag on one side and a garbage bag on the other, and picking up one thing after another. I had to do it, so I did. It took forever. Once…

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Nasty, Disturbing, Uncomfortable Things

Friends, this is the middle of nowhere. Note the vultures, if you can spot them. I only caught two in this shot, but there were eight of them. They circled for two hours, while friend and I sat with my car, hoping someone would come along with a lugwrench that would work on a damaged lugnut my tire iron couldn’t handle. Why, yes, it was great fun! Why do you ask? Hanging by my bedroom door where I see it every morning, is a sign that says “Every day is a new adventure.” I try to live by it. Sometimes it’s easy. Sometimes I end up sitting by the side of the road. A couple weeks ago, we went to Sedona. That was awesome. Here is a picture from NOT in the middle of nowhere (because we were enjoying a great meal at a great restaurant–on the open-air balcony, of course–when I took it.) In fact, here’s another gorgeous pic, possibly from the same balcony, because we ate there the whole weekend, it was that good. That adventure went well. We enjoyed pretty much every moment of it. But that’s the nature of adventure—you don’t know what you’re gonna find until you find it. Sort of like a box of chocolates, yeah? Though I do love adventure, I’m currently somewhat unwillingly trying to expand my horizons. I’m very busy right now, and I don’t have a lot of time for it. I’d like to stay closer to home! I love…

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Bloomin’ Hell

Well, not so much hell, really, although it is August and one could certainly be forgiven for getting the two confused… Anyway. This is an orchid. I never had an orchid before, but this one seems pretty happy. This is a Christmas cactus. It is Very Confused. It’s been suggested that I take it outside and wave it at August to try to get some cooler weather, but I am not confident it would not take harm in the effort, so I don’t. I have a green thumb. Inside, at least (no, I’m not linking the mostly-dead garden, go find it yourself if you want.) My mom was the same. We had houseplants all over the house, and everything grew like it was safe in the wild wherever it originally came from. Friends were envious, as she grew things in tin cans and coffee cups if no other pot was available, and they couldn’t keep pothos alive. Pothos are supposed to be THE easiest plant to keep alive, for the record. They die slowly if you forget to water (and a few leaves at a time, so you have warning signs if you look) and they don’t mind low light nearly as much as some. The plant in my pic is one of four that I care for, the littlest one because it’s in a pretty dark place. I want it that way, as I want it to stay small. Outside of my tried and true houseplants, though, I don’t…

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Curiosity Killed the Cat–Part 6

by KD Sarge Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 In the dark of a few dim dancing lights, tens of eyes stared from the bottom of the stairs at Srivasi and Dasid. For a moment Srivasi tried to count them, but the eyestalks and the lights both swayed as if to an unheard music, and some of each dropped down as others popped up and—and far more important were the claws, great pincers as thick as his forearm. One for each creature—the opposing pincer was half the size. Wide bodies built low, pincers—crabs. Giant—for crabs, the tallest would come up to Srivasi’s waist, but the leg-span was huge, and they were armored with—or possibly made of—rock? Dasid moved to put the gem in his shirt. The crab-shaped rock creatures swayed forward. “Stop,” Srivasi murmured. “Don’t move.” Dasid froze. “I was just—” “Put your hand down.” Dasid lowered his hand. The creatures swayed back, like sea grass as a wave ran out. “What, do they think it’s a weapon?” Dasid asked, moving the gem slowly behind his back. “It’s—” The creatures leaned forward again, as if a wave pushed them, but a little closer, each wave bringing the tide farther up the beach. “Hold it in front of you,” Srivasi breathed. Was it theirs? Were these the book thieves? That couldn’t be. But what other candidates did he have? “I’m trying to protect it from those things!” Dasid snarled, but he held the gem in front of him. The…

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Fail and Fail and Try Again

So…every six months like clockwork, except not, because I’m just not that regular about anything at all, I decide I want to get my stuff together. I do! I have seen the improvement in my life with every infinitesimal mote of progress I make in that direction. So I try. And I try some more. And I fail. And I fail some more, but maybe not completely… You may remember my efforts from such hits as On A Higher Level (2014), Happy New Year! Or Something (2016), Standard Operating Procedure (2016), New Year, New Filing System (2018), Organization is Good (2019), Chasing Productivity (2019)… I thought sure I had a 2020 one too, but that’s on my own blog. Just One Resolution (2020) (spoiler: I did not continue looking at my bullet journal every day.) My thinking, it seems to me, is very chaotic. Last night I went to brush my teeth and somehow ended up starting the dishwasher, and didn’t realize I hadn’t brushed my teeth until I’d been in bed for ten minutes. UGH. I guess that’s why it’s so hard to corral my brain. But whatever. I’m being kind to myself, and trying again. Here is my newest attempt at a bullet journal. Well, the start of it. I’m considering what else I want to do with it besides a weekly planner. Probably chore tracking? Habit tracking? Do I want to do that? I mean, I want to build good habits, but tracking doesn’t seem to have…

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It’s Okay Not to Be Okay

Normally I try to stay positive on the shared blog. I’ll rant away on my own, but I want to be encouraging and welcoming here. Well, I’m still welcoming! Come, sit down, have some cocoa or a nice cold drink (spirits optional.) Put your feet up. You deserve it. Have some cookies too. You are surviving. That is enough. One of my friends is rereading comfort books from her younger days. Another is rewatching all her favorite horror movies. Another is writing fanfiction, righting the wrongs of a number of different canons. My kid is playing video games all night, and sleeping most of the day. I was going like gangbusters on my current novel, but now I’m not. I’m sleeping a lot (trying to, anyway) and watching rather a lot of Bob Ross painting. We are surviving. It feels so hard right now. And it just keeps going on. I was furloughed at the end of March, all through April and halfway through May. Returning to work felt like an end of things. The world was going back to normal. Everything would be all right. Yeah, not so much, huh? So I’m trying to take it easy. I stepped back my plans to go hard at the healthy eating, and I’m just trying to make better choices. Obviously I can’t go to the gym right now, and outside it’s 106° or so every day, so…yeah. I’m showing up for (virtual) write-ins, but I’m not getting down on myself when…

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The Dread is a Lie

I didn’t want to get up yesterday. I woke up at 5:30, when my alarm wasn’t going off till 6, and thought about not getting out of bed for a while. Only I had to go to the bathroom, so that didn’t work for long. But I tried. One thing I thought while I lay there? I didn’t want to go outside and deal with my plants. Too much effort, I thought. Couldn’t they just take care of themselves? Well no. Clearly they can’t. They’ll reach the point where they don’t need watered every day, but not for a while yet—at the very least, they need bigger pots to hold water for more than a day! Not all of them need watering every day, though. Surely the bigger ones would rather NOT be watered every day? So, I promised myself. No dealing with the irrigation (which STILL isn’t all put together.) No repotting anything. All I had to do was water the plants that wouldn’t last the day without it, and then I could be done. Once I got out there, that’s not how it went. I watered the plants that needed it. Then I saw the rosemary that’s been under attack by spider mites, and remembered treating it three times a week meant it was time to do that. So I did. Then I realized that if I repotted the tomatoes I’d accidentally planted three together in a pot (my hand slipped or something, I don’t know) separately while…

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Hermit Habit

As I would imagine happened to a lot of people, I was furloughed the last week of March. So I haven’t worked in almost a month. I found out today that it will be an additional two weeks, so at least six weeks of not working. It’s so weird. I’ve been working for more than thirty years. This is…even when I had my kid, I was out for only six weeks. And I was super busy that whole time, recovering and taking care of the baby. Not going to work for weeks on end? Not having vitally important stuff I need to do right now for days on end? It’s so weird. But it turns out, I’m the weird one. I like it. Turns out, I am just as much of a happy hermit as I always thought I would be. The reasons for my hermiting suck, don’t get me wrong. I am quite cognizant that others are suffering, and I look for ways to help. But me? I’m home. All the time. And I love it. You’ll be astonished to learn I’m writing a book, I’m sure. I’ve been doing write-ins two to three times a day, where I and a varying number of friends gather in a text chat and sprint for ten minutes at a time. I write from one thousand to five thousand words a day most days. It’s a ton of fun. And my book is nearly 40,000 words! Naturally, one of the first things…

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