So…. four months’ growth: that’s what there is. It’s about an inch and a half long. I find those uneven growth patterns at my nape pretty hilarious, actually. ;op

In My Head: Ohhhh, I don’t think I want to scare annoy fascinate frighten horrify delight impress terrorize tell you too much; let’s not bother you folks with all of that just now, shall we?Let me straighten up a bit before I invite you in for tea, and what not.

In My Cup: Coffee. Strong. Necessary.

Currently Playing: I could actually use some suggestions at the moment. Anyone got anything they’re loving in their Ipod right now?

Daily Run: I’m going to try an easy mile and see what happens with the coughing today. Keep your fingers crossed!

On the Desk: Treatment for a new, high-concept fantasy series; blocking for the Vestribliss Academy Chronicles, and The Mighty Knights

On the Nightstand: Philippa Gregory, The Lady of Rivers; The Encyclopedia of Alchemy

BPal of the Day: Catherine

Now, I don’t know how sinful it is, but I love this once it has dried down. For some reason, it smells like suntan lotion going on, which is weird, since there’s no coconut in the blend. Maybe it’s just my weird olfactory.

Papers Graded: 3 3.5 (so far). it’s a long, slow process….

SO, things are bubbling away here at the Cauldron. Mighty Knights is at 98,000 words as of this morning, when (I have to share) after an hour of drafting-followed-by-tinkering, I walked away from my desk having written what I honestly consider to be one of the best paragraphs I have ever crafted. Any writer can tell you that we are our harshest critics, so being able to walk away from a session with that sense of pride in what I accomplished is a real gift from the Universe. (NO, darlings, I can’t share it with you yet. Patience….!) I also continued to flesh out a VERY promising new high-concept series proposal, and re-framed Vestribliss yet again (Some day, I’ll be satisfied enough with the overall outline to take the plunge and draft the whole thing, instead of starting and stalling all over the place on Book One). I know where I’m going… the “how to get there” is the hold up right now. Again, be patient, and know that the Musettes are on it. ;op

Today, I wrote #JustOneMore paragraph before leaving for work, and I graded #JustOneMore(almost!) paper this morning. What is your #JustOneMore moment today?

For those who initially were attracted to the Cauldron because of my chronicling of my experiences with cancer, we have a guest article today from David Haas on the importance of diet and exercise in management of cancer treatment. As you are aware (having read through my blog) I credit my relatively easy time with surgery, chemo and radiation largely to my proactive approach to overhauling my diet and fitness regime, and I do believe that this is a crucial step in the management of treatment and side effects, and one of the only things you actually have some degree of control over throughout the stressful months following a cancer diagnosis.  Without further ado, here’s David:

Ensuring a Better Healing Process from Cancer through Exercise

David Haas

It is important to be physically active so as to maintain your body in good health. Physical activity not only keeps you healthy, but also helps in combating various diseases. The following benefits of physical health may help people diagnosed with various types of cancer to cope with the treatment and healing process.

•    Physically activity helps to boost energy levels. It also helps the body to keep energy levels constant. This is important with the big energy fluctuations that are experienced during cancer treatments.
•    Physical activity improves your mood. During physical activity, the levels of stress are reduced. This has an effect of brightening your mood. People diagnosed with life-threatening conditions such as cancer need to maintain a positive attitude. This makes for an easier treatment and healing process.
•    Exercise reduces body fat. The presence of excessive body fat may be a hindrance to effectively fight cancer. Body fat affects proper circulation, which is a condition that may abet proliferation of cancerous cells.

The initial diagnosis of cancer and the harsh treatment that follows often leaves you feeling out of control with your body. Managing a treatable cancer like skin cancer or dealing with a rare mesothelioma treatment may require chemotherapy, radiotherapy, surgery, or even a combination of several methods. The sheer strain on your body while undergoing treatment can easily overwhelm you. Maintaining a constant level of physical activity and proper nutrition will ensure that your body is able to withstand the process.

Joining a cancer fitness program or creating your own is important to take control of the general wellbeing of your body. The National Cancer Institute tracks the results of various studies carried out on cancer patients. According to the institute, the amount of physical exercise before diagnosis was not related to survivorship in patients of colon cancer. The observational studies tracked however reported a reduced incidence of recurrence for people who are more physically active after diagnosis. Although the relationship between physical activity and fighting cancer is not definitive, the research is promising.

The Center for Disease Control (CDC) reports that physical activity could help to prevent certain forms of cancer.

]]> http://caridwen.wordpress.com/2012/01/25/guest-blogger-david-haas-on-cancer-management-through-diet-exercise/feed/ 5 caridwen http://caridwen.wordpress.com/2012/01/23/introducing-the-musettes/ http://caridwen.wordpress.com/2012/01/23/introducing-the-musettes/#comments Mon, 23 Jan 2012 21:00:20 +0000 Cerridwen http://caridwen.wordpress.com/?p=3583 Continue reading »

Hello, my Loveys! You will not believe this, but… we hit 30,000 views! (Yes, I had to take a pill and lie down for a bit.) Also, equally astonishing and very cool, is that the Cauldron is getting crowded these days! Let’s have a big, bubbly welcome for our newest subscribers!

razorbladexdreamz

deepamwadds

@ladyeji

and, last but not least, @joshua_r_eyler!

(And be especially nice to Joshua, because he’s another medievalist working in Chaucer. Don’t go behind my back and tell him any embarrassing stories about me. I’ll take care of that at Kalamazoo one of these years;op)

Speaking of, to silence those who keep asking, alas, no I’m not going to the ‘Zoo this year. I would love to, but it simply isn’t in the budget. I would need to magically come up with about six hundred extra dollars to make that happen, and if I did come up with six hundred extra dollars, those would probably need to go to the cancer bills. So – no ‘Zoo this year. But on the bright side, I organized two sessions, so my work will be represented there, even if I am not. )

OK… now on to business!

In My Head: Actually, it does suck that I’m not going to the ‘Zoo. If I magically sell a novel between now and then, I’ll definitely go, though.

In My Cup: English breakfast tea with splash of almond milk, a cinnamon stick and some sugar. Because you really cannot only drink coffee and green tea all of the time.

Currently Playing: Norah Jones/Katie Melua: Back to Back. Mellow and inspiring!

Daily Run: I thought about it today. That’s the first time since last week, so I’m definitely doing better. This bronchial thing = Not Cool.

On the Desk: Critiques for some fellow writers, some nascent song lyrics, and Mighty  Knights

On the Nightstand: the Element Encyclopedia of Magical Creatures, and Welsh for Beginners

Papers Graded: 4

OK, so you know that little NaNO novel I decided to write in November?

You know, just to see if I could do it?

Well, it’s kind of…taken over. Yeah. If you’re a writer, then you know.

Right now, we are at 95,500 words and counting. Good news is, I’m two football games and a locker room showdown from the end. Bad news is, I already know about twenty things I need to change before I can even consider it a finished first draft.

The good news THERE is, that gives you a little more time to put your name in as a beta reader. I’ll keep the offer open for another week or so.

In the meanwhile, if I get a little spotty on you when it comes to posting regularly, bear with me… remember, I’m stage managing one show, starring in another, teaching full time, singing in a concert this weekend, and trying to keep the voices in my head under control… oh, and also, critiquing some friends’ writings and grading 65 papers.

I might miss a postie here or there. But I’ll make up for it with… ummmm…….. sneak peeks! How’s that for fair? If I go over 24 hours without a post, you get some Mighty Knights in exchange. Deal?

Meanwhile – check this out:

Speak No Bad Prose, Hear No Bad Prose, See No Bad Prose! My Writing Dragons, AKA the Musettes. Yay for Amazon.com Gift Cards!

(Yes, you may be jealous. Not everyone has dragons looking over her shoulder while she writes to make sure she’s not screwing it up! ;op)

(No, my Muse isn’t jealous. Actually, they were her idea. She said she could use some Musettes for backup. ;op )

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In My Head: Scrambled Brains.

In My Cup: Tea with sugar and almond milk in it

Currently Playing: Silence. And it better stay that way.

Daily Run: Are you kidding me? But hey, I’m getting an amazing abs workout with all of the coughing…

On the Desk: Mighty Knights

On the Nightstand: The Dictionary of Alchemy and a book on writing the name of which escapes me.

Papers Graded: 0

So, yesterday got progressively worse. I started out with a little cough, and by the time the day was over I dragged my sorry ass to the car and essentially went on auto-pilot to the nearest doctor’s office. I’m not sure how all the forced eye-closing due to extreme coughing did not land me in the ditch somewhere, but I’m grateful.

The doctor’s office was funny. The woman at the counter asked me what was wrong. I immediately went into paroxysms of coughing when I took a breath to speak. When that was over, I opened my mouth — and, of course, nothing came out. She told me she needed me to tell her what was wrong; I opened my mouth. Took a breath to speak. Coughed interminably. Tried to speak. Nothing came out. This went on for a few rounds before finally, Dimwit had the sense to pick up a pen and scrap of paper and ask me to write down what was wrong.

Really. I swear. I’m not making this up. You can’t make stupid shit like this up. But, whatever. I wrote down what was wrong, coughing most of the time I was doing it, and presented her with this lovely haiku-like self-diagnosis:

Been coughing all day.

Can’t speak or catch my breath

Now my head aches

She says, “OK, so let me get this straight, you’ve been coughing, and you have laryngitis, and now your head aches?”" I nod hopefully (Ow… don’t nod when you’ve been coughing so much your head hurtds. Dumb idea.) “Well, your head probably hurts from all that coughing you’re doing,” she says helpfully. If it wouldn’t have hurt to do it, I would have face-palmed at that point. Clearly, I was working with a genius here. I just nodded. That hurt, even.

Everything hurts.

They gave me Tussinex and Azithromycin and told me to get some rest.

I still can’t talk, but I got a lot of sleep today from the Tussinex. Mmmm, codeine.

And now, I have scrambled brains. Because that kind of coughing does that to you. Hopefully Zombies don’t like scrambled brains. Either that, or there won’t be a Zombie apocalypse while I’m still fighting off this bronchial whatever the hell it is.

And while we’re at it, since it’s Friday, hot buttered rums all around! WOOT! Here’s a recipe for yum:

1/4 stick unsalted butter, softened

1/2 cup light brown sugar

1/2 tsp cinnamon

1/4 tsp. nutmeg

1/8 tsp. cloves

1 good shake of salt

a bottle of DARK rum

and water in the tea kettle

Directions:

Do Ahead:

1. Combine the butter and brown sugar thoroughly; add cinnamon, nutmeg, cloves and salt, stir to blend, and set in the refrigerator to firm up (about an hour or two)

Then, when you’re ready to drink up:

2. Set the tea kettle to boil. Put two tablespoons of the butter mixture into a cup and add about 3 ounces of rum.

3. Pour boiling water to fill cup; stir. Drinkies!

This will serve two or three people – unless you eat the butter mixture straight from the bowl with a spoon. Don’t do that, it’s really bad for you. But you are actually not going to be able to stop yourself if you lick your fingers at any point in the making of this cocky-tail, because it’s so. Damned. Good. ;op

In My Head: Dammit, why did I share that recipe right off? Because now I really want one, and I have to go to work first! Sigggghhhhhh….

In My Cup: Seattle’s Best #3 with a splash of almond milk

Currently playing: the squeaks and whistles and whooshes of the radiator. I know it’s so passe and inefficient, but I just love radiator heat. Love, love, love. #ILoveOldHouses!

Daily Run: No run – fighting off something icky and bronchial now.

On the Desk: Mighty Knights and 1800 Days

On the Nightstand: “Fiddler” script

Papers graded: 2 of 60. It’s a long, slow road….

For those who may have missed the announcement due to blackouts, cyber protest, daily life & etc., I have put out a preliminary call for beta readers for The Mighty Knights. See this post for details and let me know if you are interested!

So – yesterday morning I woke up, went downstairs, started the coffee, and shouted at Thomas Malory to get off the countertop (that’s the end of the cat’s part of the story, Jules!). Only, instead of shouting, here’s what came out:

Did you get that? Let me say it one more time:

*cricket*   *cricket*   *cricket*

Yup – no voice. Total laryngitis. Which basically meant I was a worthless being yesterday – I couldn’t teach, I couldn’t parent, I couldn’t even phone in a pizza or hit the drive through on our way to play practice last night (And YES, we went even though I couldn’t fully participate because that is how you show support and commitment to both the project and your fellow thespians). And all that sudden silence in a life that is usually filled with speech got me to thinking about voice, and agency, and reminded me all over again how important communication is, and how much we take for granted our ability to speak up, to tell others what we need and want and think and hope. It was my physical reminder that SOPA and PIPA and all other such acts must be blocked.

On the other hand, I enjoyed having a whole day to myself in blissful, monk-like silence, punctuated only by fierce coughing that left my throat raw and ragged. Any guesses where the laryngitis came from?

Alas, this morning, I still can’t talk. Fortunately, my classes are in the library on Fridays for research, so I can actually go in and supervise them there. And even get some papers graded!

And also, at least I can still type.

What’s your #JustOneMore story today? This morning, while I was waiting for my coffee to brew and making the girls’ lunches, I did #JustOneMore thing by clearing the clutter off the counters and wiping them down. And yesterday, I registered with #JustOneMore writer’s site on the Internet and wrote #JustOneMore page on the WIP. And even though I spent the rest of the day asleep, I felt like I accomplished something – so, it was a win!

Let’s celebrate with a little hot buttered rum, shall we? )

In My Cup: green tea with honey in it.

Currently Playing: Silence, blissful silence.

On My Desk: The Mighty Knights

On My Nightstand: “Fiddler on the Roof” script and the Encyclopedia of Alchemy.

Today’s Run: Not sure – depends on whether the coughing lessens over the course of the day – if so, then I’ll probably run 2-3 miles, if not, I’ll go to the doctor.

SO, long, long ago, in times I like to read about, write about, and teach, only the wealthiest could afford educations. Only those with the political and economic wherewithal to buy knowledge and wield it with authority (vested in them through their political and economic connections) had control over who knew what, and who had access to what.

If you have visited Google or Wikipedia today (Or even the front page of wordpress) then you have probably noticed there’s a blackout going on. Inconvenient? Sure. But what would the Internet be, if most sites you visited looked like that?

That’s essentially what SOPA and PIPA threaten us with.

Emmie Mears has written an outstanding summation of the most prescient elements of this issue. She also has a direct “write Congress now” link here.

Consider this one of your #JustOneMore actions for the day – do just one more thing and read her comments, then email Congress demanding they not pass this foolish law, for all of the very common sense reasons she presents.

Certainly my blog, among many, many others, would fall under the categories the bill threatens to hit, and frankly, I don’t look good in orange and would prefer not to go to jail for five years because I linked you to Wikipedia so you could learn more about Robert the Bruce and William the Conqueror. I know, I know, I’m a damned communist/socialist, aren’t I, with my desire to give you access to the same knowledge I have. Sheeeeeeesh.

There are ways of handling the problems that SOPA and PIPA are intended to address. This is not a good one. Tell Congress to start over and do their job thoroughly and correctly, for a change, rather than blanketing everyone under a cloud of “we don’t really want to deal with this problem so we’ll just shut the whole thing down for now and go on recess and let the next sorry saps who are sworn in handle it”.

I’m sick of it… aren’t you?

Wait for it….

AND, @ladyeji, who is following via Twitter.

It’s like Christmas all over again, only better, because instead of getting books to read, I’m getting readers!*

No Matter How You Arrived At The Decision To Subscribe: Thank you for your support!

In my head: How can I have chest congestion a month after I started having chest congestion when I was fine two days ago?

In my cup: Green tea with honey in it. Because I am congested AGAIN (still?). Sigh.

Currently Playing: Fiddler on the Roof soundtrack

Daily Run: a little under 3 miles; 35 minutes. Easy morning.

On the Desk: Mighty Knights

On the Nightstand: Dictionary of Alchemical Imagery (do you smell Vestribliss in the air? Because if you do, you’re right!) & “Fiddler” script.

OK, here we go…. the #JustOneMore movement. It’s here. It’s time.

Time to let go of our fears and worries that we will never be enough or do enough.

Time to let go of that niggly feeling that we should/could/might/ought to be doing more.

Time to go from the intention to up the ante, to actually upping the ante.

Time to let go of the side of the pool and start swimming in the deep end (with floaties. Because I don’t want to be responsible for anyone’s drowning, even metaphorically).

Time to take the training wheels off the bike and go flying down the hill (wearing a helmet. Because again, I don’t want to be responsible for an ER visit to repair a bashed-in head, even metaphorically).

Time to Shine like the Top of the Eiffel Tower at Christmas/Yuletide. (Have you ever seen that? It’s pretty groovy.)

In short: It’s time to take the bull by the horns and do the rhumba until it rolls over in submission to your awesomeness.

OK, OK, enough, I’m fresh out of cliches.

So, here’s the deal: Today, starting now, I am initiating the #JustOneMore movement.

It’s very simple. Deliciously simple. Arguably the simplest thing we can possibly do to take charge and feel like we are in control of our own destinies.

It’s just what it says: Each day, pick one thing you are doing or intend to do, and do just one more.

Let’s say, your New Year Resolution was to run for twenty minutes every day. Today, at the end of those twenty minutes, run just one more. Now, you’ve done twenty-one minutes! It doesn’t sound like much, does it? Well, on Sunday, I was running five-minute change-up intervals on the treadmill. At 25 minutes, when I planned to stop, I was at 2.2 miles and 223 calories burned. I did just one more set of five minutes, and I ended up at 3.1 and 305, respectively. That can really add up! 13.1 miles, here I come!

Or, maybe your goals are less lofty than running a half-marathon; let’s say you want to be able to do 10 pushups. Do as many as you think you can…and then just one more. Think how badass you are going to feel, you buff hottie, you! Boo ya!

Or, maybe your goal is to write 1,000 words a day. Break it down into 100-word increments. Now, write just one more. Ta-da! 1,100 words! Doesn’t seem like that much to you? Well, if you do it every day, at the end of the week that’s 700 extra words in your document, without even trying for it.

Maybe you have set a goal to finish reading that stack of books on your nightstand, or if you’re an academic, to get through a pile of articles. If you read just one more chapter/article/ even page, each night, that’s that much closer to your goal, that much quicker!

Grading papers? At the end of the session, tack on just one more.

Doing laundry? get just one more load into the washer before you call it a night.

Got a list of things to do? Tackle just one more before bed.

Answering emails? Answer just one more before you log off.

Hugging someone you love? Why not slip in just one more, while you’re at it. Ditto kisses. Ditto orgasms (oops, that one just slipped in there, sorry Mom. Wait a minute, I’m not sorry at all. )

The possibilities are endless. Why, just the other night, I did just one more thing before bed: I sewed the back of my daughter’s stuffed dragon up. He’s been sitting on my couch in my study waiting for me to attend to his gaping wound for weeks. I didn’t have time to sit down and do the pile of mending he was added to, so I just didn’t do any of it. With #JustOneMore, I did that one, last thing and made her night. And then in doing that, it occurred to me that hey! That was actually pretty easy, and maybe, just maybe, I could go ahead and sew one thing each night and that pile would go away and stop scaring me. So, tonight before bed, I’m going to sew a pair of my husband’s pants, and maybe even another one for good measure! And if I keep this up, the mending pile will slowly but surely, disappear. One thing at a time.

Today, during a faculty meeting, I listened, contributed to the discussion, and graded just one more set of papers… which freed up extra time this evening for me to write. SCORE! And this week, I submitted a proposal to write just one more essay for publication.

And it dawned on me, while I was developing all of this, that I pretty much already do this, all the time. I’m constantly pushing myself, in competition with myself. But we don’t have to go to extremes to do this. We can ALL do and be more, and thereby be more the person we are trying to be.

See, here’s the thing: we can ALL of us do JUST ONE MORE THING. It’s not that much. It’s just one thing. Even when we think we are going to drop from exhaustion, we can still do one more thing. One, small thing we have been meaning to do. And then that springboards and rolls over and turns into two things, and three things, and before you know it we are all tap-dancing around the kitchen while simultaneously cooking a three-course meal, folding the laundry, doing the dishes, working on our unpublished novels, checking emails, updating Facebook, checking the daughter’s Math homework, talking to our Mothers on the phone, AND doing isometrics to tone that tummy. Piece of cake. (After we’re done tap-dancing, because during would be a bit messy and over-complicate things).

SO, here’s the challenge: For the next 30 days, every day, I want YOU to #JustOneMore. Every day, identify and tackle ONE MORE THING. And make sure you come here and tell me about it, or blog it and link back to me so I know where to go to read it, or Tweet it to @mridleyelmes. And I will do it, too. And at the end of the 30 days, let’s see how we feel. I would be shocked if we were all of us anything less than delighted with what marvelously accomplished creatures we have become.

Anybody up for that shiny, happy feeling of, “I totally did that, I’m a rock star”? Let’s do it! Remember, it all starts with one, simple phrase:

#JustOneMore!

Spread the word! Let’s get a positive, optimistic, inspirational movement going!

*Not that I didn’t totally love the books I got for Christmas this year. Because DH got me the first 3 Temeraire books, in hardback, mylar-wrapped UK first editions. I asked him why the UK and not US and he said: Because Temeraire is a British dragon. So I figured you needed the British hardbacks. Because I married the right guy. )

The Mighty Knights is currently crowned, and will be a fully-birthed draft 0 this weekend. I am then going to be spending next week ironing out the initial kinks.

In other words, Draft 1 is imminent. And therefore, I am ready to start looking for four VIPs (Very Interested People), who will be serving as my beta readers for this project.

If you think you might be interested in beta reading The Mighty Knights, send me an email, subject line Beta Reader TMK and your name, to:

madamemedievalist@gmail.com

In your message, please include the following information:

1. A brief background of your education/ pertinent experience (This is not for the purposes of snobbery, but rather to determine one, very important thing: Are you a Literate Being capable of critically examining a document?) Beta readers for this work MUST be high school aged or older.

2. Representative titles of works you have read and loved/ a list of your reading interests.

3. A brief explanation as to why you are interested in serving as a beta reader for this work.

As a reminder, here is the brief synopsis of this YA novel:

The Camelot County Knights are up for a record: four consecutive state championships.  But team captain Arthur Penn Draggon is having trouble keeping his head in the game thanks to the arrival of Welsh exchange student Gwyneth Greidal. It doesn’t help that Arthur’s sister Morgan has decided (this year, anyway) that she is Wicca, that his father is running for a seat in the state congress, and that both Morgan and their technology-obsessed step-brother Kevin (“K”) resent Arthur’s popularity and success to the point where being at home is a nightmare.

Further complicating the Mighty Knights’ bid for state high school football immortality is the fact that they are so mortal. The stress of classes and (for the seniors on the team) college applications, the whirlwind of homecoming preparations, the desire to impress this – and – that girl, and the basic adolescent need to test their limits, prove their worth, and best the opposition in any situation on or off the field all threaten on a daily basis their drive towards the championship.

Living in a conservative, Christian, rural Virginia county comes with its own set of complications on top of those of the average American teenager. Gossip runs rampant, everyone knows everything that’s going on (or thinks s/he does), and there’s no way to escape from the constant small-town drama, unless your parents let you borrow the car to drive to Richmond or Virginia Beach for the day. It’s also not helpful that football season coincides with hunting season. The people in charge of those signs outside the churches like to embed personal jabs and individually-directed slogans in their weekly messages; trying to figure out who its meant for is a county-wide hobby. The person doing the weekly readings looks right at you on Sundays when he’s reading a passage that he feels is of particular relevance to you or a situation you’re involved in. And when you come from an Important Family – like the Draggons – with a father who was, himself, a hometown hero football star in his time and now is playing a central role in turning the county into an agri-tourist destination, and a mother who was Miss Camelot County and first – runner up in the Miss Virginia pageant and whose family traces back to the Jamestown colony (a fact documented in writing, ostentatiously framed, and hanging on the front hall of the Draggon home) – well, there’s not a lot of wiggle-room for lapses in judgment.

Morgan can’t wait to get the hell out of Camelot County; she’s had her application to New York University filled out for six months. As soon as she gets her diploma, she is out of here, and on her way to Broadway. Despite her talent and dark beauty, she has spent four years under Arthur’s shadow, because the only things that matter in Camelot County are deer season and football. She’s done playing second fiddle to her brother. She’s also sick to death of “safe” musicals like “Godspell” and “Pippin” and “The Sound of Music”. This year, she’s convinced Mrs. Henderson to produce the sensational and provocative “Jekyll and Hyde”. For once, Morgan is confident the fall drama production will be as popular as Friday night’s football game — and nobody, not even Arthur, is going to stop her from stepping into the limelight at last. She’s cast a spell to make sure of it.

K is struggling to come to terms with the death of his parents and with finding his own place in a high school so thoroughly dominated by his older step-brother, cousins Gavin, Gary, Garrett and Andy, and their friends Lance, Mark and Tristan – all members of the football team. Uncoordinated, gangly, and with a bum leg, he’s no athlete; he’s too shy to be on stage, not academically gifted enough to be an honor student, and not as striking in appearance as either golden Arthur or dark Morgan. How does an average guy get a break when everyone in his family is a superstar?

Every generation has its version of the King Arthur story; narrated by the engaging and insightful high Camelot High Chronicle columnist Tal I. E. Singer, this is ours.

I’m excited to reach this milestone and to begin the revision and rewriting process!

In my head: We are a really weird family. Really, really weird. I mean, I don’t ever want to be construed as normal, perse, but I think we are transcending the bounds of ordinary weirdness these days, and well on our merry way to Loonville.

In my cup: Oak Hill Cabernet Sauvignon

Currently Playing: Tristania, Rubicon

Daily Run: treadmill intervals, 30 minutes: first 10 @ 5.8 MPH, second 10 @ 6.5 MPH, 2 minutes walking, third 10 @ 6.0 MPH

On the Desk: Mighty Knights and Female Biography Project edits (almost done with this round, whoo-hoo!)

On the nightstand: Dictionary of Alchemical Imagery (do you smell Vestribliss in the air? Because if you do, you’re right!) & “Fiddler” script.

Sometimes, I wonder what normal dinner conversations in normal households sound like.

I’ll share ours, if you share yours. If you consider yourself “normal”, that is. No, wait a minute, you know what? I think I’d be even more interested in hearing from those of you who would NEVER claim “normal” in the slurry of adjectives you use to describe your home life to others. So all of you, normal or not, be sure to tell me how your dinner conversations go.

Here’s ours:

Me: Fallon eat your dinner.

Fallon (DD #2, aged 4): But I don’t ylike chikten. I onylee yike the bwread.

DH: Fallon, Eat. Your. Chicken. Or there won’t BE any more bread.

Anna (DD#1): Yeah, Fallon, I’M eating MY chicken. What’s wrong with you?

Fallon: I don’t ylike chikten. Mommy’s not eating chikten.

Me: Mommy’s a vegetarian. She doesn’t eat meat.*

Fallon: Wewell, maybe I’m a vegetawayian too.

DH: Eat your chicken, Fallon.

Fallon begins playing with her vitamin. She hides it in a piece of bread. Then she pretends to talk on a phone to her sister: “Hewllo? Sissy, you be the powlice, and den you can come and rescue my baby cause see was shooted.”

Me and DH, simultaneously: WHAT?!

Fallon(sniffing a lecture): Noffing.

Me: No, Fallon, what did you just say?

Fallon (blithe tone of voice): I was just pwetending. It’s an invisible dun.

DH: WHAT?!

Me: No! No guns! We don’t DO guns. I’m really not OK with that, Fallon, not even invisible guns! We do not do guns in this house! Ever!

Beat.

Me: I mean, swords. Bows and arrows, they’re fine.

DH: catapults…

Me: trebuchets, yes. Hot pokers….

DH: boiling tar, racks, drawing and quartering –

Me: All, totally acceptable. Yes. Battle axes…

DH: (grinning): splitting people in half with battle axes…

Me: And evisceration! Beheading…. Yes, we are totally OK with all of that. Just. Not. Guns.

DH: So in other words, pretty much any kind of violence that occurred prior to the invention of gunpowder is fine. Got that?

Fallon: (small voice) yes.

(Later) DH to me: But it’s OK if I watch things with guns in them, right?

Me: As long as I’m in bed, asleep, when you’re watching them. Unless it’s Pulp Fiction. If you watch that without me, I’ll be mad.

DH: You know, I haven’t seen that in ages.

Me: I know! Me neither. That’s why I’d be mad if you watched it without me. But otherwise, NO GUNS.

DH: Unless you’re asleep. Got it, got it.

Me: You know, we’re really good parents. Not every home has that “no guns” rule.

DH: And not every four year-old knows about evisceration, either.

Me: Or catapults. We really are the best.

DH: Are you going to bed soon?

Me: Go. Watch the guns.

DH: Thank you! *scampers off***

*Except for bacon. I have not caved in yet, but DH is cooking a lot of bacon these days on his weirdo paleo – stab the beast and bring it back still warm and roast it over a hot flame diet, and damn, it smells good. All I want is a BLT. I dreamed about one last night. One of these days, I’m going to cave, I just know it.

** OK, he’s about 265 pounds, so “scamper” isn’t quite the right word, but it was LIKE a scamper. As much like a scamper as a big guy can muster, anyhow. You get the mental image.

….Watch this space… cool stuff is on its way to the Cauldron….!

(OK, I think it’s cool. You might just find it mildly interesting or amusing. Or dumb and annoying. Whatever. It’s coming, ready or not.)

*blink*

Yep, it looks like someone else unsubscribed. That’s OK, it’s one less copy of my book I will have to sign someday. And – hey! I’m holding steady at 65. At least I didn’t go down a subscription today. It all evened out in the end.

And someday, I’ll hit a hundred subscribers, right? Someday…

A friend of mine recently hit “666″ Twitter followers. Being a monster scholar, that delighted his soul. He therefore declared a moratorium on any more followers, stating that if anyone else wanted to follow him, s/he/it would have to kill off one of the current followers.

I promise you, I will never require bloodshed from my readers. Although chocolates, books, items with dragons on them, dragon statues, and anything with velvet or (pretty, not gaudy) sparkles in normal colors that you can wear in a US women’s size 6, while not strictly required, will always be acceptable by way of tithes, offerings, or gifts. And while I would love to have 666 people and counting who want to read my writing on a regular basis, we’re a far cry from that, anyhow. So, don’t worry. This is a blood-free zone.* And therefore, if you suggest to your friends and family members that they might want to subscribe to my blog and read my more-or-less daily ramblings, you would be totally safe.

And now, back to the regularly-scheduled post already in progress…

In My Head: Right now, there is a major fight going on in there between the characters in Mighty Knights. I’m still setting up this fight in the narrative, so until that’s done, I have several teenagers yelling at each other in my head. It’s really extremely stressful and crazy-making. I’m planning on finishing this scene TONIGHT, so I can get some decent sleep. Last night, they kept me up until after midnight with the drama. It’s getting out of hand, so I need to get it out of hand, onto keyboard, and into computer, STAT.

In My Cup: Green tea

Currently Playing: Kitty cat purrs. (Sorry, Julie, but I have five of them, they’re going to show up in the blog on occasion. Hang in there, the cat part is over now. )

Daily Run: 5K warmup @ 9:45 miles; Intervals: 2 x 400 @ 1:47 with 180 recovery after each, 2 X 180 @ :40 with 20 yard recovery after each; 5K @ 8:45 miles. Total running time: 61:04. That was a relief, because it means that I am running at the pace I need to be running at in order to achieve my goal of a sub-2 half marathon. However, it is also concerning because I was pretty much done, when I was done. So I definitely need to work on increasing distance endurance now.

On the Desk: The Mighty Knights and Female Biography Project edits.

On the Nightstand: “Fiddler” script

Casa Chaos is a little more organized today, thanks to a communal effort to sift through the detritus and restore a modicum of order. I think Studying Parent’s post the other day about her daughter’s stress and its effect on her physical environment had a major impact on me. Here was the response I left after reading her post:

Well, that got me to thinking about cleaning, especially when I got home and realized that…well, everything I wrote was spot-on.  This realization that we were complete pigs somehow seems to have had a trickle-down effect on my family, although to be perfectly honest my husband seemed very keen, himself, to embark on the cleaning spree we held today. He actually talked about it last night. Like, wanted to make sure that I knew that his plans today were to get the house in order. In other words, we arrived, at different times and in different places, at the same conclusion: Enough is enough. So, today we played sort, toss, organize, wash, dry, fold, and put away, on repeat, for several hours. And it really does feel a lot better in here.

Except for my desk, which is still buried.

And also, my dresser, which really is, I am sure, somewhere under the pile of clothes.

Also, nobody even looked at either vehicle, because that would have been too daunting and we would have despaired and nothing at all would have gotten done.

And YES, for those of you who are dying to ask but didn’t want to offend me, the Christmas tree IS still standing. I’m thinking of just leaving it up and hanging doily hearts all over it for Valentine’s Day. It will still be red, white and green, after all, so I’m sure nobody will even realize it was the Christmas Tree, and instead everyone will be be totally impressed with our awesome Valentine’s Tree idea. I can even leave put the several bird ornaments we possess that are already hanging on it and claim that our Valentine’s Tree is based on my reading of the “Parliament of Fowles”, which is Chaucer’s bird debate poem, and features a bird’s Parliament, hanging out in a tree-encircled clearing, debating who’s going to marry who. The bird debate in that poem takes place on Valentine’s Day. That then makes me a creative genius and serious academic who marries her reading to her everyday existence in a tongue-in-cheek, humorous fashion a la Chaucerian wit, rather than a slacker working Mommy with myriad other projects which cause her deliberately to ignore and simultaneously be guiltily all-too-aware of the Tree still hanging out in the library.

But, I mean – at least the dishes got done!

(Because DH did them).

Hey, I wrote a thousand words, ran seven miles, cleaned the bathrooms and dining room, picked up the library (except for the tree) got the girls washed, dressed, brushed and off to Girl Scouts, and helped my youngest finger-knit a hair bow as her project. I can’t do everything.

That’s why I make sure to do the things I want to do, first. ;op

(ETA: I just remembered, that I also made the girls lunch.)

(ETA #2: And also, I picked up all of the shoes and put them in their cubbies in the front hallway.)

(ETA#3: And ironed the patches onto my oldest daughter’s Brownie sash so she could finally wear it today.)

* Disclaimer: The phrase “this is a blood-free zone” might be a little misleading. While I will never require blood from you, I demand blood in most of my reading and film watching, so there will be blood in the blog. Just not yours. Or real, even. But there will be scads and scads, pints and gallons, of fictional blood. Because…you know, I am a medievalist with a major thing for dragons. Blood is pretty much a prerequisite in such cases.