Being an author is like being in charge of your own personal insane asylum.

- Graycie Harmon
Showing posts with label Weather. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Weather. Show all posts

Wednesday, November 23, 2011

The First Snow

I think I comment on the first snowfall of every winter every single time. It never gets old. Well, not for me.

It worries me that the first snowfall is in November. The end of November no less. My first year in Canada, some ten years ago, the first snow was in September. I remember it clearly because that's when I got frostbite (I was completely unprepared for the snow and got caught with giant flakes falling down in only a leather jacket, sneakers and no hat or mitts. My poor ears...).

You would think, having spent the majority of my life in the tropics, that I would hate this weather. It's the exact opposite. I adore it - even though I don't do any winter sports. I really should though. Maybe if I can get to a trail, I'll take up Nordic skiing or snow-shoeing.

It's just... November for the first snow?!

I'll set aside my worries for now and take in all the white wonder of this day. It's just so beautiful!

Never mind that it's going up to +10 by the end of this week again.

Let's not worry too much...

Back to Nanowrimo writing for me. Let's hope I reach my target quickly. I have lots of editing left to do.

Shinnicked

Benumbed, paralysed with the cold, especially when accompanied by contraction of the muscles and violent shivering.
- G.M. Story's Dictionary of Newfoundland English, 1982

Monday, July 18, 2011

Wow. Just... Wow.

So, I received my new proof right on time on Friday for The Dying God & Other Stories. I was excited about this one. I'd reviewed the first proof, fixed all the errors I found, and fought valiantly and eventually defeated the evil .pdf converter.

It all looked set to publish.

Except... I found yet more errors. Stupid errors. Stupid little grammatical errors. And now I have to change all the different versions of the eBook. Again. I have to make the corrections to the print version. Again.

Worst of all, I have to fight with the evil .pdf converter. Again.

The last fight had me almost in tears of frustration. Technology and I aren't friends.

I am decidedly unimpressed with myself. Le sigh.

I'm contemplating doing this all today, putting aside my writing for now. Only, I can't quite bring myself to do it. I'm in the middle of the battle that occurs at the end of Puppet Master, and I have to say, writing battle scene are by far much more fun than writing all the heavy emotional stuff that came before. I like trebuchets and boulders smashing walls, and primitive bombs and stuff. It's all so much fun!

So, perhaps I'll leave The Dying God & Other Stories until my no-writing day on Friday. Of course, that means a whole week of dreading that battle I must face with the EVIL .pdf converter. Did I mention that thing was evil?

The weekend saw me busy, as always, but it was a fun sort of busy. Saturday, I tidied up after the Harry Potter party we threw... though the living room still looks like the room of requirement.

Incidentally, the final instalment of the film franchise was well worth the watching.

Sunday, I went out to brunch with my father, before heading out to a hike with my friend K.R., before going to a dinner theatre production (which my father helped direct and in which he performed). The hike was an adventure!

We had decided to do a relatively short 3.5 hike on a black diamond trail. For those not in the know, black diamond is considered exceptionally difficult. We decided on trail no. 6 in the Gatineau Mountains (Gatineau Park, Quebec). We arrived in the early afternoon on what was a sweltering hot day.

No, really. It was really, really, really hot and just as muggy.

Off we went down the easy trail that would lead us to the difficult trail. We arrived at the beginning of the trail and, with nothing else to do, dove right in. We walked, and walked, and jumped over rocks, and up many steep slopes, and around little swamps filled with cute little frogs. We were eaten alive by mosquitoes every time we stopped to rest.

Actually, we were just eaten alive. Resting or no.

Several times we actually lost the trail, to pick it up again a little further on. Several more times we thought we were quite lost, until a tiny plaque with the trail number in a black diamond was spotted nailed to a tree.

I had a blast. I adored scampering over rocks and around swamps and across barely running streams. Several times, I sung the Lord of the Rings theme, as well as the song Bilbo sings as he sets out from Bag End:

The road goes ever on and on,
Down from the door where it began.
I'll follow where [forgot the words so just started humming at this point]

Yes, I'm a dork. I thought this was established?

In any case, that trail was fun.

When we hit the road, it looked oddly unfamiliar. The reason it was odd was because we ought to have come out right where we went in. Not so.

Scowling, we consulted the map before realising we, thinking we were on trail 6, which makes a nice loop, were actually hiking trail 8, which doesn't make such a nice loop. More of a 2.5 km long semi-circle. We ended up 3.5 km away from the parking lot - about 3 km further away than we were supposed to.

Uh... oops?

On the map itself, trail 8 more or less ends about 1.5 km in. The rest of the trail was still trail 8, but didn't appear on the map except for a very short dotted line about where we exited the trail. It's a little difficult to explain, and I'm not sure what it means. Any experienced hikers out there know?

In any case, we walked back to the parking lot, after asking for directions because I was certain we were lost... again. But we weren't. Poor K.R. got a blister and, being unused to walking as much as I, had a tougher time on the black diamond trail. However, she soldiered on brilliantly and, despite suffering a bit from the shakes one gets when faced with a calorie deficiency or dehydration (yes, we stayed hydrated during the hike. Promise), she managed to get me to my Dad's play on time.

I am SO grateful for that (thanks, K.R.).

The play - a humorous musical romp through an old woman's memories - was wonderful, and wildly entertaining. We exited the Centre Pauline Charron to find that it had rained. When I got home, my flatmate told me it hadn't just rained, there had been a storm of epic proportions, including tornadoes. One tornado had, apparently, touched down at Base Camp (where she was currently working) just moments after the evacuation order was received. One poor guy had another car slammed into the tray of his ute.

Oh, I should explain. A "ute" is short for "utility vehicle" in Aussie slang. It describes the car that most people in North America describe as trucks - a car with a tray back and a cab. They're not trucks. A Mac Truck is a truck.

This is a ute.

I digress.

I was actually quite sad I missed it, as I adore storms. Luckily, just as I was drifting to sleep, a thunder storm rolled through. The cats hated it. I adored it. I think I fell asleep with a smile on my face.

Right. I think that covers everything in over-the-top detail. I have a battle to write. If you'll excuse me.

Dortiness

Pride, haughtiness, arrogance, insolence.
- Edward Llyod's Encyclopaedic Dictionary, 1895.

Thursday, June 9, 2011

Thunderstorms

I just adore thunderstorms. I don't know why that is, it just is. I've loved them ever since I can remember. I love the sound of rain pelting down on a tin roof. I love the flashes of light followed by deep rumbles or sudden, ear-splitting cracks.

One of my fondest memories of home is sitting out on the patio with a hot cup of tea, watching the lightening, and listening to the rain pelt down. It was calming and humbling.

Last night, shortly before I left work at 5pm, Ottawa was hit with a wicked thunderstorm. Lightning, thunder, torrents of rain and hail all rolled into one glorious score of minutes. It was so dark outside it honestly looked like night had fallen.

I adored it (of course, I was safe and sound in the thick concrete walls of the office, staring out the double layered kitchen window). It finished by the time I could get outside - there's nothing to match the smell of a storm; all watery and electric - and so I was a little disappointed.

The storm did, as they tend to do, wonders for the temperature, which soared to a record 42 C with the humidex. It didn't much help the humidity, though. It's very muggy out there this morning.

All of this to say simply that I absolutely adore thunderstorms.

Can you tell it's a slow news day? My raging emotions are now more in check, and I'm right on target with my writing (though sad that I lost my incredible lead).

On that note, I'm going to go now, and start on my next daily 3 000. Here's today's Forgotten English to keep you company while I disappear into the writing process:

Alfridaria

A power which astrologers pretend that the planets possess over a person.
- William Toone's Etymological Dictionary of Obsolete Words, 1832

From Arab[ic] root farada, to define, decree, appoint a time for a thing, with the suffix aria.
- Walter Skeat's Glossary of Tudor and Stuart Words, 1914.

Wednesday, March 30, 2011

Foot Fine, Hilarity Observed

Well finally the weather has improved a little. The Arctic blasts that have swept through Ottawa for the past week have died down. It was so lovely outside, I could get away with my short faux leather jacket and a scarf for protection. It's promising to be a very lovely day... and I'm stuck inside.

Le sigh.

In writing news, there isn't any. I'm taking the week off to rest my mind a little. It's also to let other story ideas percolate a little. I have a project in my head that's one of these "just 'cause I want to" kind of projects. If I go through with it, it will be made free. I don't want to spoil it, just in case I find I'm not allowed to do it, so I'm not telling you more than that. You'll just have to sit tight and ponder at what I might be referring to [insert evil laugh].

Since there is nothing else to say, here's today's Forgotten English:

Shruff

Light rubbish wood; a perquisite to hedgers. Norfolk and Suffolk.
- Samuel Pegge's Supplemental Glossary, c. 1800

Refuse, esp. for burning; light refuse wood, cinders, etc. used for fuel.
- Sir James Murray's New English Dictionary, 1897

Shruffe, the undergrowth of the swamps; shruffey meadowe, shruffey upland. Dedham Records, 1659-1660.
- George Krapp's English Language in America, 1925.

Off to watch more BBC comedy panel shows. I just can't get enough! Enjoy this lovely warming Wednesday, everyone!