Most Productive November Evah

I ran my first half-marathon on Thanksgiving. I wrote a novel. Not bad* for November. . . .


*I still haven't finished my Christmas shopping. Okay, i haven't even started my Christmas shopping, unless you count snowglobes from the Dollar Tree. Also, my novel is complete crap and it is non-fiction crap, at that.

Dogwood Girl Runs, Writes, Congratulates, Coughs

I know i have been missing in action during most of November. I attribute this to a)NanoWriMO b)Half-marathon training and c) family sickness.

So, i have about 2000 words left on NaNo today. I finished the half on Thursday. This may not seem like much until you drive to Chamblee Marta station (the approximate starting line) and then drive down Ptree Industrial until it turns into Peachtree, and then follow that all the way to downtown Atlanta and then over to Turner Field. Yes, I ran from Chamblee to Turner Field and people, that is a long-ass way.

I am proud of myself for finishing what I started out to do. Sometimes I am not that great with follow-through.

So, writing Nano today and driving back from Auburn to Atlanta. It will be nice to be home.

p.s. Congratulations to all you Tech and Bama fuckers.

Help me out, Runner Folks

My latest Metroblogging Atlanta post is up as of today. Check it out and give me all your sage advice on running the Thanksgiving Half Marathon. Because I am a little nervous. I admit it.

Although the calories I can conceivably take in afterwards without guilt do give me a little courage. Three words: "Mama's Mashed Potatoes."

And as an update: Nano is going well, although I am going to be driving right down to the wire.

Tiller's New Haircut

I live vicariously through my daughter's hair. Yes, you heard me right.

I have long bemoaned the curse of the curl, that never allows me to have bangs or cute bobs, or even a decent Dorothy Hamill growing up. But now i have a Tiller! A straight-haired, sharp-cut banged Tiller! In the bob that I wanted in 6th grade. (Instead I ended up with what some still refer to as "The ET.")

I give you Tiller (front and side views):

Nano Update

Well, I fell off the wagon a few days this week, but find that when I sit down to write, I am pretty damn fast at cranking this stuff out. I am at 32475, i think. Plenty of time left to meet my goal, and I honestly think this is going to go over 50,000 words.

I am so glad that i started this. It has given me a confidence that I have not had before.

And now I am going to go out and have fun tonight with people from high school - Very strange! And not embarrassing at all that i blogged about wanting to have sex with one of them in the middle of homeroom! Or that his fiance is coming! Or that Natalie might wear some ridiculous ensemble involving a hooker heels, egged on by Carrie, with Camille laughing all the while. I am sure there is little chance of the Roswell Police being called on us.

I am sure i will feel wonderful in the morning, just in time to go to a cookout with more high school people! Go Creekers!

Facebook is weird.

Oh, and i have a date on Sunday. With Edward. He's very mature.

Art For Kids

This morning, I heard Todd and Rollie talking about one of Rollie's paintings from school. We get about three per week. They are . . . interesting. I didn't hear the whole conversation, but Todd came in with eyebrows raised, looking a little speechless, then asked if I had overheard what they were discussing.

"Rollie, come in here and show Mama your painting from school," Todd said, staring at me eyes wide and unblinking.

"Look, Mama!" Rollie said, holding up the painting.

I could not discern what he was portraying in the painting. I was scared to ask what it was.

Todd said, "Tell Mama the name of the painting, Rollie," keeping his voice calm and level, and somehow free of laughter.

Rollie beamed at me, holding it up higher for me to see.

"It's Rollie's Blood Monster!"

Yanked from a Time Warp Into the Blessed Present

I have written before about my love for the song This Must Be the Place, by Talking Heads, and about how cool it was that Arcade Fire covered the song live. So, last night, we came in from dinner out, and I had to do the dishes from lunch (Domestic Diva, don't'cha know?) and so i turned on the radio. I usually listen to 88.5 or 92.9 FM or a CD while in the kitchen, but for some reason, i didn't like what was on, and I flipped over to WREK. Well, they were playing the Arcade Fire cover of This Must Be the Place, and so i stood there and listened for the whole song.

It is amazing the way a song, particular songs, can completely transport you to a different time in your life, so much so that you can almost taste and smell and feel it, and it looms over you, and you are just transfixed by it. I could not have changed the channel if I had wanted.

Also, I did not want to do the dishes, or finish the dishes and have to go wrangle children into PJs. Much more enjoyable to daydream about being eighteen and in love and with that peculiar sense of possibility that i had when I fell in love with the song the first time.

So, the song ended and I came roughly out of my reverie to the sound of the college girl on the radio, saying the name and band and the name of the radio show. And then she said, "And now i have some tickets to give away. If you'd like to see Broken Social Scene at the Variety, be the first caller through."

My cel was right there on the counter, I dialed the number and she answered. I won.

Just like that, I was yanked from 1990 to 2008, like a shot. And now I am going to a free show tonight. I love it when stuff like that happens. And I still love that song.

Obviously, based on this with my combined win of the book from Goodreads, I will be buying a lottery ticket this Friday.

I'm Pretty Sure

Overheard at my house this morning:

"Ni hao, Tiller."

"Ni hao, Daddy."

I'm pretty sure that my Dad would consider that either gay or communist, but i am not sure which one.

Hope

I hope my daughter never loses the nerve and desire to stand up on a bench in the playground and sing and dance her little guts out. At what point did we lose that?

Take All The Fun Out of It Why Don't You?

Auburn and Georgia disappointed me so wholly this season that I don't even feel any animosity towards my husband this morning.

That's no fun.

I Never Win Anything!

But this morning, right there in my inbox, was a notification that I won a copy of this pre-release book. I love the site Goodreads and they have this nifty FirstReads give-away. Basically, you sign up to win pre-release copies from publishers. If you win, they send you a copy of the book and they request that you post a review on Goodreads. How cool is that?

So, NaNoWriMo is going well. I am at over 22,000 words. Almost halfway there and right on schedule. It has almost worked out well that I have been sick for over three weeks. More reason to sit around and write. The impact on my running has not been that great. Think wheezing on hills and coughing up massive amounts of green phlegm, but I'm still running on Thanksgiving, even if I am not at a hundred percent. I missed over a week of workouts, so i doubt it will make that much of a difference in my physical ability to run the half, but it definitely has affected my mental game. Confidence level is not high.

About to have the big one?

My heart is racing. I am so nervous. My blood pressure must be through the roof. Where is my xanax?

Oh, wait. Now I feel better.

A Few Things I know

• My mama tells a good story.
• Coming from a long line of alcoholics makes for a much more interesting family history.
• Hearing that your distinguished ancestors broke their faces, pissed themselves, and liked to sing when they got drunk makes it feel like you are honoring them when you make an ass of yourself. You just don't play the piano as well.
• When I stumble and hesitate when choosing between dropping the baby and dropping the drink, I now know that I come by it honestly.
• Do it yourself hysterectomies are hysterical. Get it?
  
• Taxi drivers make excellent drinking partners.
• There is not much that Grandma Palmer, Aunt lessie, Aunt Dot, or Dad wouldn't say. I guess I come by that honestly, too.

This barely breaks the surface. I am having a blast writing all of this down.* Word count creeping ever higher.

*Don't worry, family. If it ever makes the light of day, I will change names to protect the [not so] innocent.

The Way We Were Made to Live

Went camping yesterday. It was the kids' first trip. 28 degree low overnight. Trial by fire, Palmers always say. OJT, as Pop says.


The leaves were completely at peak, and gorgeous. We went with some friends from the old neighborhood, and some of their friends, whom we had not met before, but they were all awesome. All of our kids were about the same age. 8 kids. Not bad odds for Rollie, as he and the youngest, Vince, were the only boys. The kids had pretty much free rein through the campground, as we were the only people there. Cooper Creek runs right across the Forest Road from the campsite, and the kids enjoyed racing leaves and skipping stones (or just plopping them in).

Wood was plentiful, and there were so many of us, that the firewood gathering was a cinch. Also, men like to break things and chop things and burn things, and women are smart enough to let the men knock themselves out doing it, while the women pour themselves a stiff one.

Most of the adults took the kids on a hike to a nearby waterfall, while Debbie and I kept the home fire burning. This consists of occasionally putting a log on the fire, then pouring oneself a little bourbon and reading a book while sitting by the fire. The kids' hike is what is referred to in parenting circles as "wearing their asses out."

One of the dads brought a leftover Dora the Explorer pinata, and hung it in the woods, then took the kids on an adventure, and they found it in the woods. Much excitement was had by all, despite the fact that a Dora hanging in the woods out of nowhere is a little creepy and Blair Witch Project-ish.

After getting all the candy out of it, the Dora was still in one piece, so the dad and i hung back to whack the shit out of Dora with a large branch until only her head was left hanging. We did this for every parent who has had "We're going on a berry hunt, gonna pick some juicy ones" stuck in their head for two weeks straight. You do not have to thank us. We enjoyed doing it. Possibly a little too much.


The hike and pinata were followed by stuffing their bellies with all kinds of junk food, preservatives, and cancer-inducing nitrate-filled meats on a stick, then topping them off with smores until their little bellies distend, and their eyes glaze over.

With so many parents to watch over the little ones, I got a few minutes alone on both days. Quint and I hiked halfway up the ridge by the campsite until he started looking at me like I was crazy. He is eight and arthritic and grumpy, and I love him, so I stopped. Also? I might be able to run 12 miles, but hiking uses all sorts of muscles I am not used to working out. I am sore today.

Getting kids into pjs, warm, into sleeping bags, and asleep in tents is not the easiest thing in the world, but once we got them calmed down, everyone's kids crashed out. When the sun went down, we had the pleasure of hearing a bunch of owls. Sitting around the campfire is always fun, and we had a Waxing Gibbous moon overhead, so one could walk around and pee without a flashlight. The stars were out, as it was cold and clear. I forget that living in the city is like having a mesh screen over me when i look at the sky, that i am only seeing a small part of it's mesmerizing tapestry. They were beautiful, the owls were beautiful, the leaves were beautiful, the sound of the wind in the trees was beautiful, the sound of the creek running was beautiful, and seeing my kids run around in the woods was beautiful.

Sleeping in the tent when it goes down to 28 degrees is not so beautiful, but was survivable. Tiller and I snuggled together in the tent (Todd and Rollie were in the next one) and she really slept, while I spent most of the night, worrying that she was going to keep kicking off her sleeping bag, and dozing fitfully while Quint did smaller and smaller donuts at the end of tiller's feet. I was so happy to cuddle in with that smelly, stinky love of a dog. According to Todd, Rollie spent the entire night mummified in his own bag, without even his head sticking out. Smart kid, that one. I had to get up in the middle of the night and pee, and it was pretty much the worst pee ever. I thought for sure Quint would freak out and have to follow me, but it was too cold for even him, and when I climbed back in the tent, the little sneak had crawled up into the head of my bag and curled up, his head right next to Tiller's. At least he had the honor to look a little guilty when I came back in, but when i told him to move, he growled at me. I then got tickled, wondering if anyone else heard Quint growling and wondered if there was a wild animal in the camp.


I never did get much sleep, and i wasn't cold enough to freeze to death, but it was cold enough to not be comfortable and wish for morning. It was still better than the rainy night I spent in Joyce Kilmer with Zach and Scott, when Scott slept fitfully and did that weird half-dreaming, half-awake thing and he dreamt that a bear was attacking the tent and actually cried out in his sleep, scaring the bejeesus out of us all - It still makes me laugh to think about the warbling fearful moan that woke me that night; That was by far the most miserable camping trip in the history of the world, even worse than the windy and rainy LSD camping trip in college.

This was not like that at all, though. it was fun, and mostly relaxing, and it made me yearn for the outdoors, as I always do. I often think that the way we live today is not the way we were made to live.

Oh, and not one kid asked for the tv the whole time we were there.

Majority

I am still digesting the election and its outcome, but in the meantime, the following quote struck me as particularly apt this week.

"Whenever you find yourself on the side of the majority, it is time to pause and reflect." - Mark Twain

I will write about the election later, but i just want to do my thoughts on this historic event some justice. Also, i get a little teary every time I start thinking about it. Such a damn softie!

Still Chugging Along

So, keeping up with my NaNoWriMo goals is definitely impacting my blogging. (Although it does not seem to have made any impact on my Facebooking.) But i am totally caught up on my word count so far, at day 6 of November. Yay me!

Even if I weren't to write another lick the rest of the month, the progress I have made in just six days is astounding to me. I never knew I could crank out the writing like this! It has been very fun, and very inspiring, and I am so glad i took it on.

My running, on the other hand, is kind of slack this week. I have had the coughing, post-nasal drip thing for three weeks straight, and then last night i puked up dinner out of nowhere. Not sure what was up with that, but felt like doody this morning and have had an upset stomach all afternoon. I am not sure what the deal is with kids, but they are little Typhoid Marys, and you should not allow one in your house. Ever. Think zombies. It is horrible.

Anyway, sickness is good for writing, not so good for the mileage. Oh well.

Oooh, and we are going camping this weekend if all are healthy. I am very excited. I need me some nature.

Our Eyes Are Like Doors

Sometimes kids say the most poetic things. They try to figure out the world and categorize and classify things by comparing them to the things they know. They see and imagine connections that adults never see anymore. They think you can grow chocolate on a Hydrangea, for God's sake!

Tiller came and sat down to me on the couch while i was writing. She was facing me, and reached up and touched the side of my face, then used her index finger to lightly close my right eyelid, which I did. Then, as I opened my eye up again, her hand was still on my cheek and she was gazing into my eyes. She whispered, "Our eyes are like doors. . . ."

Why can't i walk around saying stuff like that? Sounds awesome out of the mouth of a child, but a little kooky out of a thirty-something, like i would be trying too hard, or re-enacting scenes from Ladyhawke.

It's On!

So, i've caught up on my NaNoWriMo. It seems you have to write 1667 words per day, every day during the month of November to reach the 50,000 mark. I'm caught up as of today. (Didn't write a lick yesterday).

Unfortunately, their servers seem to be slammed, because I am unable to upload my work and see my word count on my little counter widget here on my blog. Which is just a glitch, but it would feel good to see the fruit of my work after spending the morning working on it. I know, i am stupid that way. Must get recognition!

However, I was able to add writing Buddies, so that is cool. Fellow Atlanta bloggers Mostly Muppet and The Arc of Time are doing NaNoWriMo this year, too. I have to say that it is pretty fun and inspiring to know that so many other writers are out there dumping their brains and getting excited about their writing, all in a cool Global writing community. Such a great idea.

Woohoo! Any other friends of Dogwood Girl doing it this year? Let me know in the comments, or shoot me an email . . . .

I'm Doing It

This year, I'm doing NaNoWriMo for the first time. It's a pretty cool idea, actually, and I know a few people who have done it in the past. The goal is to write 50,000 words during the month of November. It doesn't have to be good, or edited, or have a plot, but the goal is to crank out quantity. This, of course, scares me, but i am doing it anyway, because let's be honest, I need a new hobby after the demoralizing ass-whupping the Dawgs took yesterday. So, you'll be able to see my updated word count while I am writing during the month (just look for the nifty NaNoWriMo widget), and I will give updates on my progress throughout the month. This also means that I will probably not be writing lengthy Dogwood Girl posts this month, although I feel that this could be a momentous month politically, and that might just have to be blogged about. We'll see how I feel come Wednesday morning.

Let's see if this thing is working. (I haven't uploaded any words yet to the NaNoWriMo site, but just trying to see if the thing is working.)



Oh, one other thing about NaNoWriMo: At first, I thought, well, this is going to result in a hot mess of crappy writing all over the world: What a crappy idea. Then I read that one of the novels that resulted from NaNoWriMo in the past was Sara Gruen's amazing Water for Elephants. That pretty much blows my mind.