Sunday, January 14, 2007
Waning Moon
Saturn Retrograde
Rainy and warm


I let up on myself yesterday. It was a gray, cool, rainy day. I can’t seem to shake this virus. Most of the time, I don’t feel that bad, but the fatigue from it really kicks my ass.

So, other than working on Changeling, I didn’t do too much.

I printed more photos, and got all the ones I’ve printed thus far into the book. I’m up to the trip to Mohonk House in New Paltz, which happened in early August. Remember, I took over 100 photos on that one day, so it’ll take me awhile to get them all printed, written up, and in the book.

I ran some errands in CT. I did some more hand washing, including the cashmere. People don’t realize that, once you take something to the dry cleaner, it doesn’t take out the odor. In fact, if you take something stinky to the cleaner, the dry cleaning process SETS the odor – in that, you will never get it out. You don’t immediately smell it because of the dry cleaning fluid stench. But as soon as your body heat warms the garment up again, the stink returns – worse than ever.

Most fabrics last longer (and smell better) if you learn their eccentricities and learn how to hand wash them properly. If you have a vintage garment and want to wash it as infrequently as possible, and the fabric doesn’t water stain, get yourself a spritz bottle. Get yourself the cheapest rot gut vodka in your store. Mix a 1-1 vodka/water solution and spritz the garment, especially under the arms.

It does a lot more than dry cleaning.

And the cheap ass vodka works better than the good stuff. Save the good stuff for drinking.

So I’ve got a front hall full of cashmere on sweater drying racks, sprinkled with cedar shavings. As far as I know, no moths currently reside in my abode, but . . .why risk it?

Of course Iris periodically tests the sweater drying racks to see if they’ll do as trampolines.

They don’t.

They collapse.

Kitty dives under the sofa, and I swear a lot as I put the racks back together.

The seed catalogs are arriving, and I’m indulging myself in garden fantasies. That’s one of the things I’m looking most forward to regarding the relocation: a garden. Flowers, vegetables, and, especially, herbs.

Keep the Jimmy Choo shoes – give me a “Poet” rosebush!

I found out which whale skeleton was which (a blue whale in the atrium and a sperm whale in its own room) in New Bedford, and notated appropriately.

I need to create a cheat sheet for Changeling geography – the geography of an imagined world is much more difficult to look up on the map than is the world of Greenwich Village. The story is taking an interesting twist – and I’m realizing how much place is a character. The pace of Token, set in New York City is quite different than the pace of Changeling, which right now is set in a remote area. It’s interesting. And I’m letting it go where it wants, while still loosely sticking to the overall outline.

Devon

Chasing the Changeling -- 4,800 words out of est. 45,000

4 / 45 (8.9%)