Good Girl, Brandi

Pets have always been a part of my life.  My earliest memories involve one litter of kittens or another, and bird dogs that I wasn't really allowed to play with, but loved all the same.  When my dad stopped using bird dogs, we still had dogs, but for no other reason than because we could.  Most of our animals were either born on our farm or brought there intentionally, but our farm has also been home to several strays.  

Brandi came to us sometime during my sophomore or junior year, and we put her age at around two or three.  It was obvious from the first day we met her that she had been abused, and even more obvious it had been at the hands of a man.  It took several years before she allowed my dad to pet her, and several more before she trusted him with any kind of object in his hand.  Despite this, she had a sweet disposition and a playful attitude.  She teased and tormented our other dog, Rufis, and would follow him anywhere.  When he died four years ago, we could tell she was a little lonely, but my sister and I were gone and my parents weren't looking to get another dog.

That didn't stop Grover from showing up, however.  Much like Brandi, we'll never know if he was dumped at the farm or found his way there on his own, but when my parents couldn't find his owners he became family.  In the last few years, Brandi has gone deaf, blind in one eye, and lost a lot of her puppy-ness.  When Grover arrived, he harried her much like she did Rufis, but she seemed to enjoy the company nonetheless.  I think she also enjoyed the extra warmth that had been missing since Rufis left. In fact, she enjoyed having the company so much that when Grover first arrived she greeted him warmly and led him right to her food.  It took her almost fifteen minutes to get him to follow her to the barn where the food and her sleeping spot were, but she was determined.  I think that even if Grover hadn't liked our farm, she would have found a way to coax him into staying.  They shared her favorite sitting spot in the chair on the front porch, and slept together each night in the barn.

At the approximate age of 12, Brandi passed away on March 15th during the night.  Grover stayed by her side in the barn the whole night.  His devotion to his new friend went past this simple kindness however.  The barn is almost fifty feet from our back door, but he dragged her there so my parents would find her immediately.  I think my mom put it best when she said that Grover must have been sent to us in what turned out to be Brandi's last three months.

I will miss this sweet girl, and I'm so happy that we were able to give her a better life than she had before us.  I know that she and Rufis are together again, chasing each other around and enjoying a warm patch of grass in the sunlight.

Looking for something to read?

Of course, I'm sure you're all dying to read what I've been writing, but I'm not ready to inflict...I mean release that to the public yet.  Actually, I thought I'd tell you all about some of the books and graphic novels I've been reading lately.

I'll start with the graphic novel, mostly because I don't read many, so this will be brief.  I've recently been reading Y: The Last Man, by Brian K. Vaughn.  This is the story of Yorick (Alas, I knew him well), who is the last human male on Earth.  He is joined in Y chromosome solitude with his pet monkey, Ampersand.  Together with a secret agent, known only as 355, and a scientist, Allison Mann, they are trying to find out what happened to cause the deaths of all male mammals.

The storyline is fast-paced, even though it spans several years, starting in 2002.  It's also quite funny, especially to a former English major (something I have in common with poor Yorick).  There are ten volumes spanning 60 issues.  I think what really impresses me about Yorick is the fact that as the last man on Earth, he practices remarkable restraint.  His journey to help save mankind is further motivated by his search for his girlfriend/fiancee with whom he lost touch at the onset of the plague.  During his journey, he's pretty much able to keep it in his pants despite some rather seductive women.  I think Mr. Vaughn did a pretty good job writing about what could happen if the world was full of only women.  There are some sticking points for me that it takes several years for the ladies of Earth to get electricity up and running again, but I thing that helped him move his plot as he needed it, so I'm willing to forgive the poetic license.

Now, onto books:

First I'm going to sing the praises of one Kevin Hearne.  My sister, dad and I have all swapped his Iron Druid chronicles.  We sort of act as our own family library, sharing books whenever we hit upon a good series.  Mr. Hearne has written a wonderful series, and we're all greatly anticipating book six, coming this June.

This series tells the story of Atticus O'Sullivan, the last druid.  He's more than 2000 years old, but he can still kick butt like it's 100 BCE.  Hearne does a wonderful job of mixing mythologies without confusing the issue too much.  I love his pronunciation guides at the beginning of each of the books, because I'm one of the people he writes about who likes to know how to properly pronounce these Celtic and Norse names.  The real show stealer for these books, however, is Atticus' dog, Oberon.  That wolf hound has a unique outlook on life, and he's a good dose of comic relief.

Now, for something a little different.  Well, it's different for me anyway.

I don't think my first two recommendations would come as a shock to anyone who knows me.  They delve into the sci-fi and fantasy I love so much.  The other series I'm going to write about, however, is pretty much steeped in realism.  I've currently been reading the adventures of Hamish Macbeth by M. C. Beaton.

I suppose this isn't as shocking as I think it is, mostly because it includes something else I love: Scotland.  Hamish Macbeth is a police constable in the - usually - quiet town of Lochdubh.  These books may not be serious brain teasers, but they're short, funny, and surprisingly empathetic.  Ms. Beaton has a real knack for delving into the psyches of several characters at once, and makes all of them seem incredibly real in the less than 200 pages she uses.  This series is a nice break from reality that won't take long, but still leaves you feeling satisfied.

There, I think that leaves everyone with enough reading material for now.  Hopefully you all enjoyed my reviews.  More hopefully, you'll pick up one of these awesome titles.

So long for now.  Happy reading!

Getting on the Internets

That's right, and I do mean all of them.

I've made some amazing progress on my book. I'm about ready to start chapter 28 of what I plan to be a 30 chapter book. This has prompted various flights of fantasy, all staring me as a rich and successful author. I imagine the many interviews that will take place in the next five years where I'm asked "How did you do it?" As it happens, my imagination quite fails me at that point. I think I'm waiting for some fairy godmother (or godfather, I'm not a sexist fantasist) to wing on down, hit my novel with a wand, and *POOF* -- there's my novel, finely polished and grammatically correct, with thousands of teenagers clamoring for a copy.

Somehow, even I have figured out that's not incredibly likely. I've been a good little novelist lately, and I've begun to do some research that might help me find my way into the publishing world.  I've seen several book excerts and articles that I find comforting, but there are many others that make me realize -- this novel stuff might require some actual effort.  Silly me, I thought the hard part was going to be getting the darn thing written.  Turns out, despite all my many and varied procrastination techniques, that will be easy by comparison.

So, after giving into several hours of vascilating between whining and crying, I figuratively rolled up my sleeves and got to work.  I have found various self-help books (though without my fantasy fortune I'm going to find it a bit difficult to buy them all) that should give me a kick in the pants toward the right direction.  I have even bowed to the weight of social media and finally joined Twitter.  You can find me @RampagingKelpie, trying my darnedest to stay within the character limits.

It continually surprises me how very tech-dumb I am.  While I can astound my parents and grandparents with my computer skills, I frankly just click on whatever looks viable and cross my fingers.  Twitter confuses me, and I feel like those apes from 2001: A Space Odyssey.  Confused, and a little scared.  Not of Twitter, just of looking stupid.  I mean, seriously, what are hashtags for?  Whom should I follow?  What should I Tweet about?  Is it even appropriate to capitalize "Tweet?"  See?  Scary stuff.  Luckily, I have my friend, Niki, to steer me through the reefs and bergs of Twitterpation.  Sure, she'll probably purposely lead me to one or two reefs, but if she didn't, I'd wonder what was wrong.  Then again, to get that help, I'd need to ask for it first.  Note to self (and anyone else reading this): Ask Niki for help. 

At the very least I already had this blog going, which was a sugesstion from Chuck Sambuchino from his book, Create Your Writer Platform.  Turns out, if you don't put yourself out there in the first place, it's a heck of a lot harder to find a publisher willing to take a risk.  I'm not saying it doesn't happen, but let's face it; there are millions of people who want to write the next big bestseller, and only thousands of publishers.  It makes sense that if one can't market oneself, why should a publisher want to.

Now that I'm trying to be a good little novelist, I may actually see my way to writing on a more regular basis.  Who knows, I may even find a central theme to this blog...nah, random thoughts are more my style, and they always say: write what you know.

I'll be off then, trying to finish my novel.  Have a lovely day!

Bringing Truth to my Blog Title

Wow, it's been about 2.5 months since I've last written here.  I guess it just goes to show that I gave my blog a completely appropriate name.  To be fair to myself, however, I have done a lot of writing with my book.  I have gone from chapter 8 to chapter 15!  I'm a little stuck again, but I feel like I've made great strides toward getting this book done.

Other than that, my life has been moving along rather steadily.  Sure, things can get a little boring at times when one works at a library (at night). But, lucky for me, I've always been able to make my own fun.  At the moment I'm reading the novelization of the Assassin's Creed game series.  I've been enjoying the storyline, and I'm happy to note that even though I haven't really played the games, I'm still able to follow along pretty well.  I find that I only feel slightly nerdy for reading this series.  Given that many of my friends are geeking out over the release of AC III, it makes me feel a little better about me.

When I'm not reading...or, you know, working...I've also begun to play a game called ShufflePuck Cantina.  I'm fully addicted.  It's like air hockey on your phone, and it's in space.  It has a very Star Wars vibe--one of the characters reminds me of Han Solo.  I'm getting pretty good at it, and I'm all about unlocking achievements.  Believe me when I say that I'm completely aware of the fact that this makes me 10x nerdier than when I admitted to reading the AC series.

Hmm, I think I've killed enough e-space with my awesomeness.  Gee, and I wonder why it's been more than two months since I last bored people with my natterings.  Then again, it's not like I have a large fan base, so at the very least I'm only boring a few people ;)

Well, I will sign off now.  It may be another couple of months before I write again, and hopefully I will be far more entertaining by that point.  Then again, I'm working under the assumption that I was entertaining before this.  Please feel free to not disabuse me of that notion.  I prefer to live in my own fantasy world where I'm fabulously entertaining, and dang your opinions otherwise!

Ok, bye now :P

Twitter Here I (Don't Yet) Come

I just got done reading Goodnight, Tweetheart, by Teresa Medeiros.  I've always been a big fan of hers, but wasn't sure how I'd like her contemporary work since she's a historical romance writer.  However, I absolutely loved this book.  I almost skipped lunch with my family to keep reading it.  Those of you who know how much I love a free meal will understand why this is such a good example for how amazing that makes this book.  Told almost entirely in tweets and direct messages between two strangers, it was a modern love story, biting comedy and nerd's dream all rolled into one.

Now that I'm done giving my review, I'll move on.  Like any good book, this one was thought-provoking.  Mostly, it made me wonder if I should start my own Twitter account.  It only took me a few moments to realize that I would be only nominally worse at keeping up on my tweets as I am with this blog.  I'm not giving up hope completely, however.  I may still someday make the leap into the Twitter pool.  For now though, I will share with you, my adoring audience, some thoughts I had about some other possible tweets.

You see, I began to wonder what it would be like if a (non-famous) geriatric began to use Twitter.  I'm sure that in the infinite expanse of the Internet, there may be one or two octogenarians who tweet to their little hearts' content.  However, my logic circuits indicate this is the exception rather than the rule.  To that, here are some things that I think would be found in your typical 80-year-old's Twitter feed:

@ThoseDamnKids get off my lawn!

Had a good BM today. Didn't feel like I was having a stroke.

Mixed Monday and Tuesday. #HighasF*ck

Asked the teller to repeat herself five times. Heard her every time. Who says old people don't have fun?

My wife told me about her day. Heard the whole damn thing. #HearingAidFail

That's about as far as I've gotten.  Obviously, not being in my 80s, or even close for that matter, these tweets may not be all that accurate.  Given that I enjoyed writing them, however, I don't much care about accuracy.  Makes me feel like a FOX News reporter :P

Anyway, I'm keeping this one short and sweet today.  If anyone has any other tweets they think would be appropriate for an octogenarian's Twitter feed, please feel free to post below to your little heart's content.  Otherwise, hope you got a giggle out of it.

Goodnight, Tweetheart! ;)

Some Thoughts for the Evening

I suppose I shouldn’t admit this, ever, but there have been many occasions where I have eaten, watched a movie or just gone out alone.  Usually it’s just a feeling of wanting to get out of my apartment after having a couple of days off and completely wasting every second of those two or three days.  I’m one of those extremely rare people who has almost no problem with being the sad strange individual who has probably been the inspiration for some of those forever alone comics.  Tonight, however, I admit to feeling a little weird sitting in Buffalo Wild Wings and having dinner by myself.  This is partly due to the fact that I’m visiting my parents and they both have something else to do.  In all fairness to them, however, my dad is farming and while I’m not exactly sure what my mom is doing, I have been here for almost two weeks, so I’m not exactly feeling neglected.  The real reason, as it turns out, stems from my reasoning behind choosing BWW as my dinner destination.  I have been trying to download an episode of “Bones” from iTunes for the last couple of days and I needed a solid Wi-Fi connection to get this done.  I feel this, more than anything, is what is causing me to think of myself in slightly sadder terms.  At least every other time I could have sited others being busy as to why I might enjoy some activity or another alone, but I think my addiction to TV shows might be getting a bit out of hand.  Really, I could have waited until I got back to my apartment tomorrow to finish downloading my episode, but I figured that would defeat the purpose of having bought the episode in the first place and also put me another week behind.  The real problem comes when I have to decide: Now that I have finished my meal, how long can I sit here typing as though I have something important I must finish while I’m really trying to hold out until the whole episode is downloaded.  I’ve left my waitress a very nice tip to compensate for the fact that I’m taking up her table for only God knows what she thinks I’m doing here.  So, at the very least I don’t feel horrible for her sake.  I suppose I shouldn’t care what some complete strangers might think of me tip-tap-typing away, but given my propensity for judging complete strangers, I suppose I know how cruel others can be when they know the object of their derision will never know how virulent they’ve been.  Mostly, I think I’m using the writing of this blog as an excuse to do that waiting.  Ok, I fully admit I don’t really care what those strangers are thinking of me.  Frankly, they’re never going to say it to my face, and if they did, I’d probably write it off as someone having too much to drink or that they are, in fact, a complete douche whose opinion matters about as much as rabbit poop.  Really, I guess what I should be wondering is how long I can type out inane nothings in this blog before I decide that another hour of watching the little blue bar on my download progress at the pace of a flash-frozen zombie really isn’t worth it.  Then again, now I’m wondering just how slow a flash-frozen zombie can shuffle along, so I suppose now I have to decide just how many people would keep reading if I begin to debate with myself the merits of living in an incredibly cold or incredibly hot environment if the zombie apocalypse really does occur.

No, no, I’ll restrain my innate ability to ramble and take the next logical step.  The only way to solve the problem of having strangers judge me as I sit here alone is to admit defeat and leave the restaurant.  However, I will not give up waiting for my episode to load.  The real irony of the situation is that I came to BWW for the Wi-Fi, and ended up using that of a nearby restaurant instead.  As it turns out, BWW has three options for Wi-Fi use, and none of them would work on my MacBook.  I will therefore post this (incredibly stupid) blog, leave BWW and wait in my car until the episode is done downloading.  The nice thing about this plan is that my car is closer to the neighboring restaurant, so my signal strength may improve, which will hopefully result in a faster download. 

With that, I bid all of those who stuck with me throughout my inane tirade a fond adieu.  For those of you who skipped to this last paragraph, you may go fornicate with yourself and be mauled by a rapid porcupine.

A Day of Farming

Today my dad woke me up at the ass crack of dawn to help him out at the farm. Usually when this happens, he asks me to drive him to one field or another so he can drive a tractor or some other piece of machinery back to the farm. To my utter dismay this was not to be the case today. That's right folks, my dad woke me up at 7 in the a.m., when I would have rather slept for another 4 or so hours, and expected me to work until almost sundown. I mean really, just because I'm spending my two weeks off from work at my parents' house, eating their food, and using their gas; does that mean I should be subjected to a full day of manual labor?
Yes?!
Well who asked you anyway?
Oh...right. Well, anyway, on with my tale. My friends usually make fun of me for being a farm girl who never really worked on the farm, so I sent them a picture as evidence that it does happen on occasion. Today I was responsible for running the Kabota (the brand name of a tractor company-all you really need to know is that it's a small tractor that I only learned how to drive for one summer several years ago). I got to lay down a line of tile (which is actually a kind of thick plastic tubing) from one side of the field to the other. That's a lot of bouncing around in my day.
I met a man named Frank who sometimes works for my dad. He told me that he needed to call his wife to bring him some water because otherwise his mouth would become "as dry as a popcorn fart." He then proceeded to tell me why he had a perpetual case of cotton mouth: "I had throat cancer and when they give me the radiation-the chemo-I got an awful case of dry mouth. Water works best but girl scout cookies and bacon can get it going too."
Imagine my surprise when this cancer survivor-who put in a hard day's work I might add-was lighting up later this morning. I swear by the end of the day he had gone through at least one pack. My dad told me later that Frank's philosophy on life was that, "We've all gotta die from something."
By the end of my impromptu work day I had driven back and forth across that field and to the farm and back several times. The biggest bit of excitement came when someone put the tile on the spool wrong and when we tried to put the whole thing on the other way, we had a clusterf*** of tile trying to unspool itself onto the ground. Three farmers, my cousin (a sometimes lineman) and me (a former theater manager). Were all trying to figure out how to fix things without making it worse. As it turned out, the whole thing looked like a film wrap to me. I tried to explain to my dad how I thought we could fix it, but he's a stubborn man (don't think I can't see some of you nodding your head and muttering to yourselves, "So that's where she gets it.") and he didn't want to listen to me. Eventually, after much cajoling, I got him to listen to my idea. I won't say it was the best, but it got the job done. Of course, one of the other guys added to it, but the main thing was that we got it figured out and got it done.
My day ended at 6:00 p.m. So I had an 11 hour day, 10 of which were spent actually working. While I thought I and my father deserved a good rest, he had a weekly ritual of shooing at clay targets that he did not want to miss. He convinced me to take up a shotgun and join him on at least a couple of runs. I shot 50 shells during two 25 shell practice rounds and hit a total of 20 targets. I haven't actually handled a firearm in almost ten years, so I'm feeling pretty good about myself :)
So, all in all, I have had a well rounded redneck day. Now, I'm so tired I think I really may pass out at any second, so I'm going to crash. Have a good night y'all ;)