Home Articles posted by KD Sarge

Planting the Rain, Among Other Things

Recently I signed my declaration of independence. Well, okay–I just posted in the family server that i was tired of doing any housework that got done, and I wasn’t going to worry about it anymore. My declaration didn’t result in a war! Everyone was very supportive. Especially the cat, whose counter-cruising is a lot more productive now that I’m no longer emptying the sink every night. >_> So anyway. Now I have more time to do what I want to do. Like blog a day late. (sorry! brain just wasn’t willing yesterday.) Lately what I want to do is poke at turning my front yard and my mostly concrete backyard into a wildlife habitat slash productive bit of dirt. At some point I may put in some raised beds and try vegetable gardening again, but that’s not what I’m working on right now. I’ve moved a little on it–clearing some junk out of the shed, pulling a weed here and there, buying and planting two more citrus trees… Yes, me! I planted two trees! By myself! So far they are still alive. It’s been more than a week. While I’m pretty good with houseplants, I’ve had less luck with outside plants. Of course, it is generally something of the six-or-so legged variety that takes out my poor outside plants. But anyway. Not much luck. So we’ll see. I bought a book. This author lives not far from me, and what he’s been able to do is just fantastic. Of course…

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A Day Late and…You Know

It is 8:30 p.m. and I am already posting a day late. I don’t know what to tell you–sometimes the brain it just won’t work. Last week I enjoyed a glorious five days in a row off work. One of the things I did was to take off to Sedona. I love Sedona. So much. Oh, hey! you’re probably thinking. Is this going to be another blog post full of rambling and pretty pictures? Yup. Though probably not a lot of rambling, as it’s already 9:45. What can I say? The brain. It don’t work. Here’s the cabin we called home for the weekend. It’s one room with a full bed and a pair of bunk beds, but also the very important heater as it got down to freezing both nights. No, seriously. I don’t plan to talk much at all. Check this out. My child told me I caught a UFO! I told them that must be lens flare somehow–it wasn’t there when I took the picture. They told me then it’s an orb (think ghost.) It’s just a tree, but I like it. It’s a gnarly tree! All of these were taken on my phone, by the way. It’s a Samsung Galaxy S22 Ultra, and I love the camera so much I put up with the dang huge phone in my tiny hands. Full moon! I was trying for a nice edgy shot with the branches against the moon. Works a lot better without the branches. GEEZ I…

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Standing Up for Myself

Apparently, scientists are finding that too much sitting is as bad for you as smoking. That’s pretty scary! Especially considering I spend much of my work day on the computer, then come home and spend a lot of my evening trying to write books (or on the computer avoiding writing books. Don’t judge.) I’ve been watching the studies, and if anything they’ve become more convinced of this. And, oddly enough, I do like to stand up to type–it’s unexpected, but I do it sometimes, because i just don’t want to sit anymore, or I want to dance, or whatever. I do it. Until my back hurts from bending over the desk, anyway, and then I sit down, because what choice do I have? Well, now I have a choice. After literal years of watching the price for an adjustable desk go from $500 to $350 to $275–I found a highly-rated one on great sale for about $150. And I pounced. Unfortunately, I don’t have room for two desks. So. Pour one out for my old friend. I’ve written a couple books at this desk, and edited more. But. I want to stand up sometimes. It’ll be good for me, and also fun, since I have a balance board. I even caught a good simultaneous sale on an under-the-desk treadmill! So. Time for some furniture assembly. As I told my family (with a lot of swear words) –if you have a choice, never try to put something together with the garbage…

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Motivation is Key

Theres a house. It’s in way north New York state. It’s beautiful. I mean, I’m sure it needs tons of work, but look at it! Eight bedrooms. And a carriage house! Apartment(s) above the carriage house, too! Look at the windows! Look at that price! https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/301-Main-St-Antwerp-NY-13608/31411504_zpid/ But kd, you say. Don’t you live in Arizona? Yes. Yes, I do. But not because I want to! I mean, day by day it’s fine. I have a great job here, doing important work. It could pay a bit better, yeah, but even that is okay. We even have a house already! But, well… One of the young ones found this shirt the other day, and announced it’s me. And it is. https://www.etsy.com/listing/1485595635/if-your-family-doesnt-accept-your A couple people around me lately have told me, as I vented about stress and money and children, that I should stop adopting children. One of them I just told no. The other (who I knew would laugh) I flipped off. I will stop adopting children when people learn how to love their own damn children. Damn it. Ahem. So. Eight bedrooms. Extra apartments. Lots of space. Makes sense, right? Right. Okay, so we’ve established that I need a bigger house. Fine. But northern New York? They have weather there, KD. They have snow. You know, winter? I know! Isn’t it great? Astonishingly enough, I am not here in Southern Arizona because I like heat. I never wanted to live in the desert! I wanted to see it, but not…

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A Rustling in the Bushes

Well, here we are again. I had honestly begun to think it wouldn’t happen any more. It’s so easy to tell other writers that their muses haven’t abandoned them. It’s just a dry patch. You’ve got a lot going on in your life. It’s tough times for everyone. We’ve been through hell the last few years. The creativity will come back! Telling yourself that, though–no, that’s easy too. But believing it? Now that’s hard. Once upon a time, story ideas tackled me frequently. The kind of ideas that would grab me by the shoulders, or maybe the neck, and shake, demanding to be written. It hasn’t happened in a long time. Like, a really long time. Oh, I’ve had ideas, like maybe once or twice a year. And sometimes I even wrote them. But they weren’t the kind that pounced me like Tigger or Hobbes would do. Maybe the ideas that jump me like that aren’t better–in fact they probably aren’t better than something I’ve really thought through–but dammit, they are fun. And it’s happened. A great loud song I’ve heard a hundred times collided with a picture of a smartass redhead (have you noticed I have a thing for smartass redheads? Perhaps you haven’t been paying attention.) and an unrelated news story in my head, and BAM! KD is flat on the floor under a very self-satisfied tiger. via GIPHY Looks like I’m in for some fun coming up, and I’m quite excited about it. I’m poking writer friends…

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Another August Survived

Almost, anyway. Two more days. I got this. Is it silly to say I’ll miss it? As busy and draining and wild as it is, I do love the rush of August. I wouldn’t mind doing it twice a year. No, that’s not true. That would throw me off so much. Like anything else, a school year has a rhythm, and each season brings its own challenges. August ends, we settle into September, and boom! It’s October. Fall break and the scramble to get things done while the classrooms are empty. Many of the great plans from the beginning of the year aren’t working, so rearranging and rethinking are in order. Not to mention fixing all the things we’ve been getting by with–new holes in the walls, old glitches in the heating in that one classroom…and then we’re back, and it’s second quarter, and holy CATS how is it nearly Thanksgiving break?? I certainly should be used to the rhythm of the school year by now. It’s hard for me to believe, but I’ve been working in schools for over twenty years. Many times I’ve said that I don’t know how people work in regular offices. How do you cope without regular incursions of the small and squirmy? Do you just…not have swearing teens stomp through your office demanding that their parent be called because that woman is traumatizing them? How do you manage week after week in which no parent shows up with a baby sibling to coo over??…

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Even Happier Camper

Did I think June’s camping trip was amazing? Well, yes, I did, and yes, it was. July, though? July blew it right out of the water. Okay, it’s not really a competition. And also, I should go back a bit. February, 2021. I’d meant to go see what camping around Mount Graham was like for a while, but never got it done. Then I found the cabins at Roper Lake, and spent a weekend looking at the beauty of Mount Graham, learning my way (a little) around the area. One day heading back from maybe breakfast to the lake, we took a detour and drove up Mount Graham a bit. It’s a steep narrow mountain road with lots of switchbacks, though, and I was driving a 14-year-old Toyota Corolla and couldn’t remember if my tires had been inspected recently. And there was ice. I decided I would absolutely like to camp up there, but for that day I turned around before we reached any campgrounds. I had Plans. I was going to camp So Much. But Life Finds a Way–to smack the carp out of all one’s plans. I didn’t make it happen. This year, though, I’ve been camping on Mount Lemmon, and it’s becoming more familiar. Load the car, buy the food, buy the ice, go. It’s not so hard. We went in May. We went in June, and I wanted to go in July. June on my beloved Mount Lemmon, though, had been right on the edge of…

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Happy Camper

So I probably shouldn’t even say this, but camping without my bio-kid is a lot quieter than camping with them. Shh. Don’t tell. Last weekend was spent in a lovely campsite, overlooking a canyon and shaded by evergreens. No one in my campsite was complaining, for most of the weekend. It was the most relaxing, peaceful, joy-bringing experience I think I’ve had in a very long time. Except that I did miss bio-kid. Negative or not (they are) I do love that kid. In their place, though, there was a chipmunk. We watched him explore the campsite with a great deal of cheek–until he hopped up into the bear box to investigate the fudge I bought at the general store, and I had to leap to its defense. I meant to take a lot of pictures. I meant to walk down to the possible-creek. (Water flowed in it last month. Does it still? I meant to find out.) Here is one picture. I meant to do a lot of things. Instead I mostly just sat vegetating in the beauty, and/or reading Howl’s Moving Castle. That is such a freaking good book. So wonderfully written. Did you know Dianna Wynne Jones was a student of J.R.R. Tolkien? Neil Gaiman wrote a lovely blog post about her, after she passed. Anyway. One of the many things I meant to do while camping was write my own blog post. As you may tell by this weak and also late effort, that didn’t happen…

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Family Status: It’s Complicated

Surprise! You get me this week. Who will you get next week? Who knows? We’ll figure that out later. Anyway. Due to circumstances, I’ve been thinking a lot about my family this week, so I’ve been pondering the fact that there’s a reason I love to write and read books about found family. My family is actually pretty easy to explain–I found me some. My roommate is my dear friend. We met online, then met in person, then took up residence together first because she needed a place to stay, and then because we got on really well, and two incomes are (good lork, are they ever) better than one. I’m old enough to be her mom, so sometimes just to make things easier, I say I am. Sometimes I call her my “internet daughter.” Sometimes, when I want to make bio kid yelp, I call her “my good daughter.” My second kid, of course, I found by the side of the road after a rainbow fire tornado tore through and demolished–kidding! I actually birthed her. I have the scars to prove it. On the other hand, my son is not biologically my son. He and my child have been best friends since they were 16-ish, and at a point he needed a place to stay, and he’s been here off and on since. Mostly on. It does make it difficult sometimes to talk about my family–last week I was talking to a coworker who has known me for years,…

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Camp and Camp Are Similarly Stuck

Last month, I took my kids camping at a lovely and beloved state park. I hadn’t taken my kids before–usually the roomie and I went camping to run away from the kids. Actually, roomie was doing it to get away from her awful boss, it turns out. And then after escaping that job, she went camping so I wouldn’t have to go alone. But eventually I found that out, and invited the kids in hopes that someone would actually want to go camping. I didn’t think it would go well. I really didn’t! They are very into video games. And TikTok. But both had a great time. Delighted, I began plotting more camping trips. The first problem I needed to solve, I decided, was that of space. Our spring break trip had packed the car full-to-bursting, and we’d had a cabin to stay in. No way no how was I getting all that stuff PLUS three tents (instead of one big one–trust me on this, the first time you go camping on a mountainside and can’t find enough flat space to put your big tent on…) and all the other things one needs when electricity and plumbing are not provided into my faithful Corolla. She’s a great car, but she cannae break the laws of physics. I thought about a roof rack, but research showed I’d have to get roof rails first. Hundreds of dollars, and getting it up there at all would be a hassle, and taking it down–well,…

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