2020 Diary: The First Week of July

7/1/2020: First day of July. The year is half-over already. Up about 6 AM, and thought, “Today, I must take it easy.” Prayers, Bible. Wrapped my knee and dressed. Sat down to start Book Inventory for the day and saw John had e-mailed me (see above) and promises to call later. Now about 7:15 AM. Worked on BI, then went in at 9:15 AM for breakfast, getting not only ramen, eggs and bread, but cabbage for later. Ate, then worked on BI until 11:20 AM. Time for a break. About 12:30 PM picked up BI again. At 2 PM John called and we yakked for about an hour, about the fragility of weed-whackers, Joey’s hearing problems, the Inventory, the nature of perception leading into the stupidity of the civil unrest and cultural change going on. A little after 3 PM I went inside to grass dogs and see what to make for lunch, when Andy called to talk about groceries and Susan said to make chicken breasts, which I’d forgotten we had. Made chicken breasts, rice with mushrooms, and squash. Came back in and worked on BI until 6 PM, when I finished the bottom shelf of the [Tolkien] Shrine. Ready to post. Posted. Rosary at 7 PM, then cleaned up kitchen. Was watching a pinch of “Singing in the Rain” when I realized that the tune that had come to me in a dream was “All I do/ is dream of you/ all night through …” So that solves that mystery. Kam called about 9:40 PM for supper. I had already kind of drifted off, and after I got up and did that, I was in bed by 10 PM.

 

7/2/2020: Up at 5 AM. Prayers & Bible. Started BI at 5:40 AM. Went in at 9 AM for chicken soup. Back out and back on BI. Finished glass case in [Tolkien] Shrine, onto a drawer of lesser books so I can get them out of the way and end on a higher note later. At 12:40 PM ready to take a break and think about lunch. When I went in Kylo’s green ball was right in front of the back door. I kicked it out of my way … and it rolled to right in front of my door. Made ramen with eggs; it’s now 1:30 PM and I think I’ll try 2 or 3 entries then see if I can nap.

Napped for maybe half an hour then up and working. Basically, finished one drawer then went in to cook at 3:30 PM; back at 4:30 PM, ate, then back to the books. Finished the other drawer (not so many books), cleaned up and posted and done for the day about 7 PM. At 1,996 books. Have less than 40 to go; tomorrow, God willing, I will be done. Rest, rest. Went in at 7:30 PM to clean up early, but Andy had a wrecker call, and they hadn’t eaten yet; Susan tells me the AC is out. It must have just happened, because I didn’t notice anything, but then I was cooking, so I might not have noticed the heat.

At 8 PM, prayed the Rosary. Now 8:20 PM. Kam came out to finish watching a MST3K, then went in. Andy was home and working on the AC. Poor guy, when I went in at 10:30 PM, he was just getting to have supper. I hung around and we talked a bit, then I washed up and helped Kam grass the Chis. Tis now 11 PM, and maybe I’ll take a shower and hit the hay. Boy, is my right leg sore.

 

7/3/2020: Prayers, Bible. Got an early 6 AM start on the BI; the last shelf of Tolkien. Did not go in until 10 AM to get the chicken soup for breakfast, and found Susan was staying home today. She barked at me because she thought I dragged mud in, but since it was totally dry and my shoes were clean, I think it must have been something (like dogfood) that the chis trailed. But try telling her that; she seemed convinced to be snappy. When I went in at 1 PM to get the leftover chili for lunch, she was still brisk, but when I went in to get the stuff to start supper at 2:30 PM she seemed to have settled down. Finished BI at 3:30 AM. Supper ready at 5PM; fish and fried taters. Cleaned up at 7. Found out Amy had dropped off $20 for me. To John:

Put my last entry to the Inventory at 3:30 PM. Not included are softcover blank journals, Gold Key Digests, random skinny softcover graphic novels (fat ones count; the others are just comics), comic paperbacks (Peanuts, Wizard of Id, etc.). The final number? 2,049. You know me; that one book away from an even number bugs me. I probably have a tome or two tucked away, but where? This is good for now. Er - you don't have a book I might have loaned you, do you? I don't think so, but - that number! 

Reread BI on Kindle (rather obsessive, I know – and found things that need correcting) then rosary at 11 PM. Caught up diary and ready for bed at 11:30 PM. Tomorrow: Independence Day.

 

7/4/2020: Awake at 5:20 AM and I’m up. Prayers and Bible. Shaved my beard and mustache (not off, just down). Add Encyclopedia of Fairies to BI, making it 2050. At 7:40 AM I mean to go to town, even though my leg – and my chest, a little – are still hurting. “Live while you live, and then die and be done with it” – rather glib words at the moment, but one can’t simply cower away. Anyway, if I fall (by which I mean have a stroke) in public there’s more of a chance of somebody noticing than if I were hiding in the house – on Saturdays, unless I intrude into the house, nobody takes the least interest in my existence, and quite rightly too. But I have often thought how long my corpse could go unnoticed over the weekend. My leg will not thank me, whatever happens. Later, TMC has their annual showing of 1776. No parade, no fireworks today, all canceled because of Covid-19. Did the trip, and it was not too bad. I was the first in the store, the first at checkout, and all the other customers were wearing masks too. Home at 8:30, with cookies, candy, and tea. Did some reviewing on BI.

Got a ramen and eggs after 12 PM. At 1:30 PM watched 1776. Afterwards (4:30 PM), I called John and we yakked for about 40 minutes about what a strange July 4^th it was: no parade, no city fireworks, no big family get togethers. A little after 7 PM I went into the big house to get the last of the cucumber salad for supper; S&A asked me to make dips [tomato sauce noodles] and gave me the old bananas. I went in again to clean up at 9 PM and polished off the dips. When it really started to get dark began hearing fireworks going off all around, so some celebration going on. Read more The Magic Mountain (MM from here on; I had started Mann’s book a few days ago) and looking at BI again with an eye to revisions. A late and sleepy Rosary, then bed.

All day I had been nibbling coconut macaroon cookies.

 

7/5/2020: Awake about 5:30 AM; said prayers in bed. Then up for Bible reading, got dressed, and watched the Sunday Mass from St. James, with the new pastor, Fr. Stan, who has a very thick Polish accent (he has been serving in the United States for many years, but apparently in Spanish, so his English is a still a little rusty). Afterwards looked on Facebook and saw a film of an explosion of cheap Chinese fireworks last night at Babeloth; thank goodness there was no one hurt, and they were well prepared for fire control. Laid down again for a bit (it is easier to sleep in the cool of the morning) then up at 10 AM refreshed and bursting with ideas. I would really like a printer/scanner for my birthday; I want to learn to merge documents to compare them; I want to print books of my poems and short stories; I need to finish “Omichon”, the revisions of “King Korm”, revise the BI and maybe publish it with pictures on “Niche of Time”, and of course finish “American Prometheus” and get on with Bob’s Book Two. That being said, today is Sunday, and there is no rush.

Went in at 1 PM for a couple of boiled eggs for lunch (with chocolate chip cookies I’d been nibbling all day, it was enough). After an afternoon nap, I got up feeling inspired, and worked on proof-reading BI off and on until about 9 PM (supper – a ramen and bread – at 7 PM). With the Kindle down to 15%, I finally gave it a rest, prayed my rosary, and so on. I’m about 2/3 through BI; the corrections are mostly rewriting sentences for clarity, working on commas and spaces, sweeping away leftover ‘artifacts’, and changing typeface from bold or italics to normal. It’s now 9:44 PM; if the Kindle is done recharging in an hour or so and I’m awake, I may continue.

 

7/6/2020: Everything that usually happens, happened today. Only things different: S&A have some guys building a carport over the driveway next to the storage buildings, and after I was up at about 2:30 AM I worked on the Revised BI (now the BIB, Biographical Inventory of Books) and put the final touches on it at about 3 PM. And the adaptor on the AC cord got all scorchy, so I threw it away and have to do without AC until I can get a new one. The night is hot but not unbearable.

 

7/7/2020: Up at 5:30 AM with my right leg hurting a lot. Prayers, Bible, and ready for a walk into town. Must go early for the relative ‘cool’.

Decided not to go to town. Guys were working on building carport from about 8 AM to 3 PM. I had gone in to lunch at 1 PM and S&A were just there. I asked about if they had an adapter for the AC, and S got a little annoyed (they were running late).

Made sausage and cabbage for supper. A little after 6 PM A came in with the wrong sort of adapter and S came in right behind him, breathing fire. They went out again (Kam called me, worried about a wasp that wasn’t there) and later came back with the adapter and we got it set up and emotions were soothed all round. I was able to tell S I had talked to the medical center about assistance with my medicine. So, the AC’s on and everyone seems happy again. Time for a rosary, then bed, I guess.

Notes

I don’t remember any details of Magic Mountain (appropriate reading for plague times), though I do remember enjoying it. I also vaguely remember watching some adaptation of it (a mini-series?) and there’s a section in The Wind Rises at a tubercular sanatorium that reminds me of it.

Long summer days often make for short diary entries. I was still struggling to get my SSI set up, gasping toward the end of the Book Inventory, and swinging uncertainly from meal to meal. Speaking of food, I was getting quite a bunch of snacky stuff (since stricken off the menu) to fill in the spaces between the ‘meals’ (all too often ramen).

Don’t get lottery tickets so much any more; not so desperate, I guess. Also don’t read on Kindle so much; hard to keep it charged since the cord is too loose these days. Still haven’t finished writing “American Prometheus” much less Bob’s Book 2.

Ah, Covid. What a bad dream that was. Will the kids ever believe us?

A Vagabond Song

A Vagabond Song

By Bliss William Carman

There is something in the autumn that is native to my blood—
Touch of manner, hint of mood;
And my heart is like a rhyme,
With the yellow and the purple and the crimson keeping time.

The scarlet of the maples can shake me like a cry
Of bugles going by.
And my lonely spirit thrills
To see the frosty asters like a smoke upon the hills.

There is something in October sets the gypsy blood astir;
We must rise and follow her,
When from every hill of flame
She calls and calls each vagabond by name.

William Bliss Carman, Canadian poet and Alan Rickman look-alike.

Clearing the Decks

Pulling On A Cat's Tale: Wanda Gag

When I was over at John’s house yesterday, I was somehow reminded of an old childhood book about ‘millions and billions and trillions of cats.’ It was everywhere when I was a kid; I think I even remember it in a sort of ‘pan and scan’ reading session on Captain Kangaroo. I figured I’d better pin it down for myself while I could. I remembered the author’s unusual name, which is not common for me with childhood reading.

“Wanda Hazel Gág (/ˈɡɑːɡ/ GAHG; March 11, 1893 – June 27, 1946) was an American artist, author, translator, and illustrator. She is best known for writing and illustrating the children's book Millions of Cats, the oldest American picture book still in print. Two of her books were awarded Newbery Honors and two received Caldecott Honors. The New York Public Library included Millions of Cats on its 2013 list of 100 Great Children's Books. Millions of Cats, had been developed from a story that Gág had written to entertain the children of friends. It was published in 1928.  Millions of Cats won a Newbery Honor award in 1929, one of the few picture books to do so. It entered the public domain in the United States in 2024.”

“The hand-lettered text, done by the author's brother, tells the story of an elderly couple who live comfortably, but realize that they are very lonely. The wife wants a cat to love, so her husband sets off in search of a beautiful one to bring home to her. After travelling far away from home, he finds a hillside covered in "cats here, cats there, Cats and kittens everywhere. Hundreds of cats, thousands of cats, Millions and billions and trillions of cats..." This rhythmic phrase is repeated several other times throughout the story.” – Wikipedia.

But he can’t decide which is most beautiful, so he ends up taking them all home. But as his wife points out, they cannot take care of them all. So, they announce that they will take only the most beautiful of them all and leave it to the cats themselves to decide which that one is. This leads to an almighty fight among the clustered felines, which becomes so violent the couple withdraw into their house. When things get quiet, they finally emerge to find the trillions of felines have disappeared. “They sadly conclude that the cats have eaten each other up in their jealous fury.” But they find one scrawny cat alive and hiding, which did not consider itself beautiful enough to fight. They feed and take care of it, and as it thrives, they conclude it was indeed the most beautiful cat of all.

While researching this memory I came across another of her books that struck a chord. This was The Funny Thing.

“The Funny Thing is Gág’s follow-up to her well-loved first book, Millions of Cats. It tells the story of a curious dragon-like “aminal” that eats children’s dolls. A kindly old man named Bobo cannot stand by and allow the Funny Thing to steal dolls from children. He entices it to eat “jum-jills,” a concoction he makes up from seven nut cakes, five seed puddings, two cabbage salads, and fifteen little cheeses, all rolled into little balls. A happy ending is assured when the Funny Thing discovers he loves jum-jills and is convinced that they will make his tail grow longer and his blue points grow more beautiful. He returns each day for the treats and never eats another doll.” – Amazon.

 

Friday Fiction: Thrand (Part 19, Notes and Outline)

Kettle comes in from a day off, disheveled, bruised, black-eyed but grinning. It seems that some of the other pages and apprentices have taken exception to the young Morg’s position under Thrand. Apprentice to the Lord High Justice is a coveted position, and it doesn’t seem right to them that someone with no education or breeding or experience should suddenly just pop into it. Some of their masters, Judges of high degree, have grumbled at it as well, and the impression they’ve given is that they will support any ‘hazing’ their servants might initiate.

But Kettle’s street training has allowed the young Morg to set several bigger, older apprentices on their backs, and earn a certain new degree of fear and respect, even more than is due from being Thrand’s protégé. The old Morg chuckles at it, his mood momentarily lightened. The pressing matter of who shall be King is still weighing heavily on his mind.

The problem is driving him to distraction. He goes over the conundrum with Kettle, more to think out loud than anything. Things are complicated by his personal ambition, to really come to a good decision, something that people will point to and say he was truly wise to do that. His legacy, his reputation, is riding on things as well. Although there are plenty of candidates that would make … adequate rulers, it would be a letdown after a couple of heroic monarchs (and Thron is certainly seen as a heroic King now, if lesser than Taryn) to descend into mere bureaucracy. Every qualification, every political criterion must be weighed.

Kettle questions whether he’s just making it too complicated. Set aside noble house or private talents. Perhaps he should ask what sort of person he wants to be King? Think about all the candidates. Who would he want to have dinner with? Who would he trust to stand by his side in a fight? Who would he loan money to? Who would he like his son to be like? Who would listen to good advice?

The young Morg brightens. Come to that, why doesn’t Thrand just make himself King? He’s still got a few good years yet. Thrand barks bleakly at the idea.

That would not only be against the Lore, he explains, it would be against the Law. And both can be very stubborn masters. Every Morg knows in his bones that self-proclaimed rulers are bad news, and the Law, while elements of it can be amended, has a few iron precepts at its core, and that’s one of them.

And I can’t make you King, either, he adds humorously. You’re not old enough. A Morg must be at least fifty. Though you seem, in many ways, to be wise enough. You’ve certainly given me something to think about. Now go clean up and put something on that eye.

Notes

This little section is sort of an insight into my writing process. I know what has to happen, but not always how. I make an outline of the story as foreseen, and let details emerge as I think about it. Bits and pieces may be be fairly close to the actual writing, when I flesh it out and make 'blocking' as it were. That last speech of Thrand's, for instance, may be used almost verbatim in the actual draft. In the meantime I have something to work with and from. Morgs, being longer lived than humans at a 250 year average, have their own standards of when one is mature. Fifty would be their equivalent of twenty-one, or near enough.

Publisher's Clearinghouse Posting

I've had a rough couple of days. Today's post is a bit of a cheat, clearing out several subjects that probably don't deserve an entire posting to themselves, but I'm not feeling up to anything very complicated.

Out on a limb. I was looking at the Mystic (Ur-ru) action figure from The Dark Crystal that sits on my desk when I suddenly thought, "How many other action figures that I own have 'extra' limbs?" The ants from Ant Z, of course, since they are insects (they're legs are very flimsy and have a tendency to fall off) but there are otherwise not many. The Ovion from Battlestar Galactica, Aracula from Skeleton Warriors, and Appa from Avatar. I considered dragons (wings, legs) but somehow they didn't seem to sit quite right. Maybe because one expects dragons to have wings as a different category.

Three popular (at least famous, mostly thanks to film adaptations) Fantasy series you will never find in my library. I have plenty of other samples of drek (Shannara, etc.) but those were before I had fully developed a more discriminating bullsh*t detector. Now, THESE are franchises, in the sense that Tolkien will never be.

And lastly, illustrations from and of my childhood. Gaze on them and see what I fed upon to grow my imagination.

Wideo Wednesday: Royal Watching

Since I had finished watching all the House of Tudor BBC royal series, I thought I would give the House of Saxe-Coburg Gotha a chance and watch Edward the Seventh. I had never been fond of ‘Bertie’, the Playboy Prince, as an historical character, but the short-lived ‘Edwardian Era’ had produced both Sherlock Holmes and Mr. Toad, and, compared to the following horrors of World War One, seemed to have a fading golden glow. I was pleased to find familiar faces. Annette Crosbie as Queen Victoria - Mrs. Meldrew from One Foot in the Grave, the voice of Galadriel in Bakshi’s The Lord of the Rings; Michael Hordern as Lord Gladstone - Dr. Gilpin in Yellowbeard, the voice of Gandalf in the 1981 radio adaptation of The Lord of the Rings, among many other roles; and eventually I recognized Timothy West (who died only last year), who played the grown-up Edward, as Bishop Cauchon from The Messenger: The Story of Joan of Arc. I came away with a more sympathetic view of ‘Bertie’ than I had before.

Watching this series brought up Fall of Eagles in my YouTube queue and I’ve been giving that a browse. It has Edward (not played by West here) as an incidental connecting figure (he was related to all the ‘Eagles’ through his mother, Victoria; the eventual horror of WWI was something of a family affair). Jack Pulman (I, Claudius) had done some writing work on it, and Patrick Stewart plays Lenin, in rather inspired casting. Other familiar faces include John Rhys-Davies, Freddie Jones, Tony Jay, and Maurice Denham. Michael Hordern was the Narrator.

Edward the Seventh is a 1975 British historical drama series, made by ATV in 13 episodes.

Based on the biography of King Edward VII by Philip Magnus, it stars Annette Crosbie as Queen Victoria, Timothy West as the elder Edward VII, with Simon Gipps-Kent and Charles Sturridge as Edward during his youth. Helen Ryan and Deborah Grant featured as the elder and younger Queen Alexandra respectively. It was directed by John Gorrie, who wrote episodes 7–10 with David Butler writing the remainder of the series.

Only the final three episodes dramatised Edward as King (in line with his short, nine-year reign, which did not begin until he was nearly sixty years old). Annette Crosbie, who won a BAFTA for her performance, was given top billing in the series (appearing in ten out of the thirteen episodes). - Wikipedia

Episode One:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=psarl9Ugg88&list=PLYTr6vL2ZffrLeLVnrPivWVee-QbSXC0f

 

Fall of Eagles is a 13-part British television drama aired by the BBC in 1974. The series was created by John Elliot and produced by Stuart Burge. The series portrays historical events from 1848 to 1918, focusing on three ruling dynasties: the Habsburgs of Austria-Hungary, the Hohenzollerns of Germany and the Romanovs of Russia. The scriptwriters were Keith Dewhurst, John Elliot, Trevor Griffiths, Elizabeth Holford, Ken Hughes, Troy Kennedy Martin, Robert Muller, Jack Pulman, David Turner and Hugh Whitemore.

The series tells the story of the final decades of three great empires brought to downfall by historical events. Each empire used an eagle in its heraldry. The central theme is the effects of centuries of despotism, with a lack of social reform and the devastating effects of World War I, that caused revolutionary movements to form. It begins in the aftermath of the Revolutions of 1848 and continues through the Armistice of 11 November 1918, covering about 70 years of history in 13 episodes. The episodes' vignettes move between the three empires: Austria-Hungary, Germany, and Russia. - Wikipedia

Episode One:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Wo21LRTc1Uc

 

John Mouldy by Walter de la Mare

John Mouldy

By Walter de la Mare

I spied John Mouldy in his cellar,
Deep down twenty steps of stone;
In the dusk he sat a-smiling
Smiling there all alone.

He read no book, he snuffed no candle;
The rats ran in, the rats ran out,
And far and near, the drip of water
Went whisp'ring about.

The dusk was still, with dew a-falling,
I saw the Dog-star bleak and grim,
I saw a slim brown rat of Norway
Creep over him.

I spied John Mouldy in his cellar,
Deep down twenty steps of stone;
In the dusk he sat a-smiling
Smiling there all alone.

Bleeping Borges

I had really hoped to get back to Tolkien Tuesday today, but right now I'm caught up in the fascinations of Jorge Luis Borges; I am reading Collected Fictions. His short stories are seldom more than five pages long, and reading them is like eating peanuts. What I think of as his 'prose tone poems' (setting out one idea, seldom dramatized by action) are hardly a page. It is easy to get caught up and lost in his mazes, mirrors, myths, and mysticism, and the ever-changing cast of characters, often with quite challengingly long names (in Spanish) glide before the eye like a kaleidoscope. There is one constant character, however, and that is Borges himself, or what the author sometimes calls 'this fellow Borges,' who is not quite the man who moved about in the real world. This gives the collection a strange dreamlike, almost fevered, threadlike continuity, as if you are reading tiny chapters in one enormous novel. There is no reason to stop at the end of one short story, and an almost hypnotic compulsion to continue reading. At the moment it has quite wiped away other considerations.

In the meantime, I do hope to work on Tolkien Tuesdays, maybe a bit at a time in the evenings, maybe even completing 'The Seige of Gondor' by next Tuesday. Hopefully announcing it here will give me more impetus to work on it. In many ways it is frivolous; the best 'map and guide', not to be improved on, after all, is the thing itself. 

 

Comic Gleanings