The Holiday Fog

It's almost Halloween. That means three things:

1 - October's almost over.

2 - November's almost here.

3 - I'm already too far behind on holiday projects.

Fortunately, I know (or at least have a reasonable idea) what I'm doing this year. Unfortunately, I just haven't gotten my tail out to my workshop to start the things.

Instead, I've been reading. Between books I've been reading. But only when I haven't been reading. For some reason, it's the only thing my brain's been able to settle on when it stares at my ever-shifting, always-growing list of Things I Need to Do. I can't really complain - I'm finally past 800 archived reviews on Brightdreamer Books, a goal I didn't think I'd hit until next year - but it's completely devoured everything else I meant to do with September and October. My sketchbook is stagnating, my workshop's feeling lonely, and my room still hasn't been reorganized. I've also had an uncommonly bad run of luck with the books I've picked. Yet I can't seem to stop myself from picking up more.

When I haven't been reading, I've been beating back this year's NaNoWriMo story with a proverbial stick. This one really, really wants to get written, even though I don't have a clue about many pertinent facts... like where the plot really wants to go, how it wants to get there, or what the collateral damage and death toll will be once it arrives. But that doesn't stop my mind from chewing on it to the point of distraction. I finally broke down and wrote some backstory, just to keep my brain from shaking itself to pieces waiting for November 1. (And it gave me a chance to fiddle around with my new writing software, WriteWay Pro. So far, I'm liking it enough to consider paying for the full version; as a habitual cheapskate, that says something.)

Since I'll be forced to put down books for a while anyway, I probably should mosey out to my workshop and get started on those holiday projects. The year's not getting any longer.

If only my list of Things I Need to Do could say the same...

(Photos: The first was from a foggy morning, taken from a post office parking lot before work. The second was a puddle in a grocery store parking lot. And people say I never go anywhere fun...)

Kindle-ing

This year, like every year, I celebrated a birthday. After this one, however, I found myself in possession of a shiny new Kindle.

Like most readers, I've been watching the e-reader revolution with mixed feelings. While part of me worries that the bookstore experience - wandering shelves, happening across new titles, browsing cover blurbs amid the smell of fresh paper – might be going the way of the soda fountain, another part can certainly see the advantages. Packing so many books into one small device… the ability to read thirty-odd pages free on most offerings (which would've saved me a lot of time, money, and general aggravation)… plus, more often than not lately, I've just plain had more luck finding what I want via Amazon than in the local Barnes & Noble. I was intrigued, but with my nonexistent budget I didn't expect I'd actually ever have one.

And now I did.

First things first. The package, once I managed to work it open, contained blissfully few items: a quick-start guide, a USB cable that hooked into a 2-prong adapter for charging, and the Kindle device itself: matte gray, little longer and wider than a mass-market paperback and scarcely as heavy, with a little keyboard and navigation buttons and not much else to confuse me. It was a matter of moments to start the battery charging, and the simple controls easily let me access the on-board instruction manual. The biggest problem was figuring out how to connect it via the household wifi network. We've had issues with the thing in the past, most notably the password and security key (which are not, oddly enough, the same thing; which device wants which one varies, with no sense of logic or certainty.) While a Kindle can operate without wireless internet access, it seemed like it would be happier if it could use the thing. Besides, there's the principle involved; we have wifi, and dang it, I ought to be able to use it!

Long story short, I wound up having to restart the wireless router in order to reset the key. This, incidentally, enabled the CD that came with the router to actually function as it was supposed to, something it had never done even when I bought the thing. Very strange, if fortuitous. (I wonder if this means I can finally get my printer to work on the wireless network... but that's another project for another day.)

That hurdle cleared, I was able to synch up my Kindle with my Amazon account in under half a minute. Yes, my Kindle knows my Amazon user name and password, just as it knows how to use my wifi network. Not the sort of thing your average book could figure out - even the leather-bound deluxe editions.

Now, I needed some content. Fascinating as the user manual was, I foresaw a day on the far horizon when it alone would fail to entertain me. While technically I can shop via the device iitself, I found its controls limiting when it came to browsing; I had trouble running basic searches, even with the keyboard. Well, when in doubt, head back to what you know: a good web browser and a proper computer. Booting up my desktop, I headed to the Amazon website… where I noticed that they had my Kindle device already listed when I logged in.

Spooky…

This being my first experience with the Kindle, I started looking for free books. Fortunately, Amazon has a fairly large selection of free, out-of-copyright titles available for the cheapskate thrifty reader. Now, according to the manual, any title I grabbed could be downloaded to my Kindle in 60 seconds or less. (I could also download it to my PC and drag-and-drop via the USB cable later.) I grabbed a free title at random – the classic Treasure Island, which I'd never gotten around to reading in my youth – to test that claim With a skeptical eye on my e-reader, I clicked.

I must have blinked, because suddenly there was a new addition to the main menu. Treasure Island had appeared almost before my mouse cursor cleared the "Send to my Kindle" button. As someone used to the wait for shipping, or even the wait entailed by the need to drive home from the bookstore, I had to say that this instant gratification was rather cool.

Reading on a screen instead of on a printed page proved a remarkably easy transition; I hardly noticed I was clicking a button instead of turning pages after a while. I could power it off and walk away, then start up right where I'd left off without hunting for scrap paper to serve as a bookmark. I didn't even delve into all the extra options I had – highlighting, adding notes, in-line dictionary definitions for unknown words, adjusting font sizes, and more. It even had a handy progress bar at the bottom, telling me how close I was to the end of the book. (Much more accurate than the old squinting-at-the-spine method.)

In conclusion, while I don't expect the Kindle to replace all of my book purchases, I can certainly see it making a dent in my reading piles. It should also come in handy with the library, as the local library system just launched Kindle compatibility with their e-reading options. It may be a while before I get to exploring that, though, as Amazon still has many more free titles for me to browse... plus some interesting offerings at Baen books, and other places I'm just stumbling across. I've already started the Kindle equivalent of a bookpile... a bookpile that takes up no more space than the Kindle itself.

I think this little device and I are going to get along just fine.

Deer me...

Where has the year gone?  How can it be halfway through September already?

Well, it's been a couple weeks, so I thought I'd poke the ol' blog.

I wish I could say I've made vast strides on my many projects, but I expect you'd see right through that ploy. Truth is, I've been focusing on writing and reading, weighing toward the reading end.  You can, as always, check my book review blog for more details on that front. For the quick summary, suffice it to say that I've finally broken 750 reviews at my website. I may even break 800 by the year's end. How is that possible? Recently, I started seeing reissued Animorphs books go through at the library, which spurred me to finally go through and add individual reviews of the series. This, naturally, requires me rereading them. Freed of the one-book-a-month schedule imposed by the original release, I've found I can get through two or three installments in a day, if I'm not doing anything pressing. I'm trying to space them out, though. For one thing, I'm already ahead of the re-release schedule. For another, I'm sure all zero visitors to my book review blog will get sick of them if I post too many in a row. And, of course, there's the whole "other things I should be doing instead of rereading books" thing... Still, it's not easy holding back. Even though I know how the whole thing ends (not the most uplifting finale, to say the least), they're still addictively readable.

On the family front, life seems to have settled into a rough holding pattern. Grandpa just has good days and bad days. Dropping more water weight tends to give him more good days, as does getting on top of infections early... not easy, when every little step requires jumping through a zillion little bureaucratic hoops in order to get the staff of the assisted living home to help. (For instance, we had a standing order - in writing - from the doctor to increase his water pill dosage if he gained a certain amount of weight in a day. When he gained more than that, we were told that they had no memory of this standing order, and we had to run around playing doctor tag to get another order issued... all while Grandpa was falling further and further into his fog.) He hasn't been up to any major excursions since the sand sculpture exhibition, though. With the weather taking a sharp turn toward autumn, I don't know how many more excursions we'll manage to pack in before things get too damp and dreary out.

I suppose I ought to wander off. Just thought I'd toss a quick post to keep this thing from getting too stagnant. (Oh, the deer photo was taken from my car window a couple mornings ago on the way to work. The young buck stood by rather placidly while I clicked away with my purse camera. Rather considerate, all things considered.)

Sands of Time

This past Sunday, the relatives and I visited the World Sand Sculpting Championship, once again hosted in a scenic area parking lot between a deserted Target and a deserted Toys R Us. It was a little smaller this year - no teams larger than pairs - but, if nothing else, it would give me an excuse to inflict more photos on the blogging community.

"Relatives" included the usual immediate family, my uncle, and Grandpa. This being a flat and relatively small venue, and something he actually seemed to enjoy last year, we thought it would be an ideal place to get Grandpa out and about for a while.

For a while, he was getting himself up to walk three times a day at the group home where he's been living. He'd been reading the paper (or at least skimming it), and commenting on it.

But, as we've learned too well this year, it's impossible to take anything for granted at his age, in his condition. They finally got the catheter out, but he still has lingering infection issues. He also keeps building up too much fluid, requiring numerous games of doctor tag before anyone will adjust his water pills to deal with it.

All of this takes a toll on his increasingly fragile stamina, not to mention his increasingly cloudy mental state. Between one day and the next, he can go from relatively alert and lively to glassy-eyed and weary. Sunday, the day of the Great Sand Sculpture Excursion, was a weary day.

For a while, Grandpa managed to walk with the use of his walker, but the effort told on him. Though we were there while the sculptors were still working, fielding questions and putting finishing touches on their incredible creations - including patiently affirming one clueless man's question as to whether the sand being wet had anything to do with how they were able to sculpt it - he hardly seemed to notice them. Just staying upright consumed most of his attention.

Before too long, it was time to switch off to the wheelchair.

The group home has an annoying habit of removing the foot rests of Grandpa's wheelchair, and storing them far away from the wheelchair itself. My uncle didn't check, before he left, to see if the rests were on or off. (Of course, this is a man who never remembers sunscreen or a hat, despite repeated scorchings...)

Without foot rests, pushing him in the chair requires some cooperation on Grandpa's part; he has to lift or "walk" his feet, or they catch on the ground or snag the front wheels.

For a while, it worked out. Freed from the effort of walking, he even seemed a little more alert, though his eyes tended to wander about, unable to stay focused on any given sculpture for long.

Before too long, though, he was letting his feet glide along, unwilling or unable to lift them. Even sitting down was proving strenuous for him. Since he couldn't be pushed, my uncle had him get back up on his walker as we headed toward the food court (or rather, three tents selling foodlike substances and cold liquids.)

Grandpa managed to get to the tables, even navigating hoses left in his path. (People don't realize how difficult it is to deal with hoses until they have a relative in need of a walker or wheelchair; that inch or so of lift to clear one's feet becomes a monumental task.) But that was about it for the day. He was asleep almost before he'd sat down. Even the temptation of chocolate milk failed to rally his stamina.

Before the final judging started, we headed off. Grandpa had to be rolled backwards; once more unable to participate in his own transportation, it was easier to roll him backwards, letting his heels skim the ground, than push the whole length of his foot on the asphault.

The final sand sculpture, on the last row, seemed oddly and eerily fitting for the day.  Its title, appropriately enough, was "The Sands of Time."