Good as any, Better than most

Thursday, September 21, 2006

Mine.  Chapter 1 Part 3

The smell of fresh baked bread greeted Onieda as she strode into the main hall.  She noted her father’s place setting already being cleared by the drudges.  Her siblings had not yet arrived to break their evening fasts, so Onieda sat at her place.  She loaded her platter with warm slices of bread, and a few scoops of khilot.

The oatmeal like paste named Khilot was a dish only served in Grippa.  A mix of several indigenous plants, roughly chopped, it took several weeks to prepare a single batch.  Only with great care, and specifically timed addition of ingredients, can it be made.  It is said that a single spoonful of khilot can fuel a strong man for several days of labor.  Grippan healers use flakes of dried khilot to bring wasted patients to health in hours, instead of weeks.  Someone, unaccustomed to its properties, eating a small bowl, becomes infused with energy and strength for days.  The effects of Khilot are widely known, and the trading of the traditional paste forms the base of Grippan economy.

Onieda topped her helping with red berries, and sighed in contentment at the flavor.  Even after eating khilot three times daily since she turned 1, it was one of her favorite foods.  A child of privilege, she consumed more of the paste in one sitting, than a wealthy healer would use in a year.  Long ago, Onieda stopped feeling the zing of energy at each bite.  The bowl she ate now, seemingly affected her no more than a bowl of normal grain would affect any other person.

She simply enjoyed the taste.  She hadn’t kept track of each meal, and so, as she finished her meal, she had no way of knowing that she had just consumed the last few ounces in five tons of khilot over her lifetime.

Five tons of this nearly legendary, magical food.  Wars had been fought over a few pounds of khilot.  In countries that didn’t share a border with Grippa, an ounce of khilot would trade well for a carriage, and a team of horses to pull it, lifetime wages for a coachman, and driver, and feed for the team.

The khilot she had always eaten was fresh, taken in the first pulls of each batch.  The drying process weakened the effects, so fresh moist khilot is the most effective and potent.  A Grippan child was always fed fresh khilot for their second year.  Most of them grew to despise the bitter, caking taste of the mash.  Onieda had not.  When she turned two, and her parents stopped the ritual feeding, baby Onieda had coliced.  The only food that she was able to keep was khilot, and so, she had always had khilot.

Today was no different, inasmuch as Onieda’s eating habits went.  The paste was followed by the bread, covered in melted butter.  The bread was followed with a small morning ale.

As she stood, her eldest brother, Mort, entered the hall.

Wednesday, September 20, 2006

Mission Statement

How to write original material, day after day?

That’s the question I asked myself a couple of weeks ago, when I decided to start posting.  I have these ideals, that I’d like to entertain any possible readers (and I know who all 3 of you are), even when I really don’t have anything to say when I type these out.

I have several thousand little stories from my childhood that shock and amuse.  I’m writing that story that I post on Thursdays (pretty much no lead time, I write the part I post, just before I post, so you’re seeing raw first draft material.

And then there’s days where I’m just going to bitch about work, either allegorically, or specifically.

I’m going to limit myself on posting about my time wasting hobby of playing World of Warcraft.  I’m not going to try and be a place people stop for global, technological or current news.

I will try to be entertaining though.  At least once a month.  When it’s precipitating.

Tuesday, September 19, 2006

When in Rome…

I’m just a cog.  A cog in a wheel.  A wheel on an axle. An axle in a machine.  A machine that has no idea it has cogs.

Aren’t we all just cogs?

Everything we do, everything we think about is just some action to achieve a desired effect.  Our actions, regardless of what is intended, causes reactions.

Everything, everywhere, is only there, because of some action.

I’m just a cog, in a wheel, and so are you.

Monday, September 18, 2006

Tra la la, la la la.

Finally, a weekend where I didn’t have to drive, or go anywhere, or really do anything.

I skipped out on 2 birthday parties, and a family reunion, and felt kind of bad about it.  I feel much better today though, after a weekend of puttering around the house, putting up shelf brackets getting the jungle I call a lawn cut, playing Warcraft…

I also made some beef short ribs on the grill.  They were OK, but as I was eating them, I kept wishing they were pork.

Speaking of food, the diet is going well, I’m down 16lbs from where I started.  I’ve basically stopped drinking soda and milk (can you believe milk is 100 calories a cup?), and have just been eating a little less.

If I can keep it up, I will fit in my old dress pants in a couple months, and won’t have to buy new ones.  That’ll be awesomeness.  Yes, awesomeness.

Peas!

Friday, September 15, 2006

MMM

I’m going to eat me some Culver’s tonight.

I haven’t indulged in bad-for-me food in a few weeks.  I skipped lunch, I’m ready for my thousand calorie meal.  Big juicy double cheese burger.  MMMM

Is it ready for me?

Thursday, September 14, 2006

Mine.  Chapter 1 Part 2

Norwin wished he could remain longer, sharing his strength and comfort, yet duties called.  Eve though the sun had not yet crested the horizon, workers throughout the keep would have questions and require guidance from him.  Such was the life of a Baron, in the country of Grippa.

Onieda watched as her father slipped out the door.  The terrors in her sleep, while never forgotten, were relegated back into a corner of her mind.  She was a dutiful daughter of Grippa.  A dark, nameless fear that clawed at her in the night had no business occupying her mind during the day.  Onieda was born privileged, but her parents had instilled in her a deep sense of responsibility for the land and its people.

A few moments after the door closed, she threw back the covers and swung her feet to the cold stone floor.  Spring had come to the land, but the keep was set deep in the bedrock footing.  It’s walls and floors were always chilled, even in the heat of summer.  She quickly moved to the rug in front of her armoire and shed her shift.  She shrugged into her favorite brown linen shirt, and began tying it up, noting that it was tight across her chest.  She had worn the shirt for years and was sad that what hours of activities hadn’t accomplished, her quickening into a woman grown had, making the shirt unsuitable to wear.

Not today though.  Later, she would break in a new shirt, but for now a thick leather vest would hold her modesty.  She donned the leather breeches that unbeknownst to her, caused every eye in the castle to follow her walk.  Slipping on her boots, and tightly lacing them, she was ready for the day’s labor.

Wednesday, September 13, 2006

A branch, a sword, a gun, a motorcycle.

When I was young, a busted off branch represented an infinite realm of possibilities.

For hours, I would be the brave hero, defeating swarms of evil grassy minions, relishing the conquest of my villainous foes.

I could lock and load, fight my way through the snowy hell, and claim the mountain from the commie horde.

Squealing my rear tire, pulling a wheelie for hours, I was the fastest rider on the dirt track.

I miss my stick.

Monday, September 11, 2006

Monday Monday

Ah Monday.  How I love and despise you.

It’s been raining all weekend.  Usually the gentle patter of rain lulls me into a deep sleep.  Last night, it woke me every time drops would hit the window.  When I rolled out of bed at 7:45 this morning, already 45 minutes late for work, the floor looked so far away.

Over the weekend the lovely wife and I went to her grandparent’s 50th wedding anniversary.  At least I think it was the 50th, I don’t really pay attention to those sort of things.  I played a little volleyball with a few of the regular players (LW’s brother, sister, their significant others) and a whole crop of cousins that I’d barely heard of, much less met.  If I were a farmer, I’d have left the crop on the field a little longer to mature.  The fun was a little dulled by having to play twice as hard for half the effect (when volleying for serve takes 15 minutes, you know it’s going to be a long game), but I still had a good time.

Yesterday, we came home, and took a little nap.  I then played WoW for a few hours.  A few hours longer than I should have, but it’s always a good time to hang out with my “online friends”.  And I say “online friends” because over the years, they’ve become real friends, that I just happen to have met online, and only see once or twice a year, but I digress…

This morning, I paid pretty harshly for that good time.  Arms and legs aching, the floor looked 100 miles away.  I dropped down to it, winced and performed my morning ablutions.

I rolled in to work just under 2 hours late.  Now, I’m writing this, because it seems more productive than just staring at the screen, not having any ambition to do any actual work.

I wonder if other bloggers read what they’ve written, before they post it.  I know I don’t…

Friday, September 08, 2006

It does what?!

Being fairly new to the world of online publishing, I don’t know much about the subculture it has generated.

Granted, I’ve been reading online journals way before the quasi-word *blog* every appeared, but I read them for entertainment value, never giving a thought to the fact that their very existence was part of this entire new world of ideals and “foundations”.

I jumped in, head first, without even testing the waters first.  I found that not only was the water way deeper where I jumped than I thought, I was in a stagnant pool, connected to a river larger than any I’d seen before.

That’s OK though.  This isn’t about notoriety, or fame.  Hell, I’m not even trying to entertain people.  I just need a spot to spout off once in a while, and have a creative outlet.  I’m going to break all the blogger rules, and follow them.

Because really, that’s what it’s all about.

Off to do the hokey pokey....

Thursday, September 07, 2006

Mine.  Chapter 1 Part 1

Twisting, crying soundlessly, Onieda Firth awoke.  Her dreams details and memories slipped quickly away, leaving only the sense of terror and dread.  Her ragged breathing punctuated the otherwise silent room.  The cool morning air slipped into her lungs, cool and comforting.  Onieda’s eyes flitted around the room, taking in everything and nothing in the dim grayness of the predawn hour.

On the far wall, the hearth sat empty, the interior stone work swept clean.  Winter had not yet gripped the land.  To the left sat a leather chair, the seat piled with half finished knitting.  To the right, a clear glass window looked out on the gray landscape.  In the dim light, Onieda could not yet make out the forms of the workers in the fields, nor could she make out the fields themselves clearly, yet she knew they were already toiling.

Her eyes moved on to the closed door.  The stout oaken door was carved from a single piece.  The side in Onieda’s view, carved with hundreds of small figures locked forever in merry celebration was comforting, a reminder that she was safe in her room.  Her gasps for air slowed.  Her fingers unclenched from the blankets they had been gripping tightly.

“What was I dreaming” she thought.  She was unable to remember even the theme of the dream, only the terror it had caused.  The latch to her door clicked, and Onieda instantly felt the claws of fear clenching her spine.  She opened her mouth to scream, when she saw the familiar face of father peek around the slightly opened door.

Norwin Firth watched the stark fear drain from his youngest child’s face, giving way to a look that spoke to him of relief, love, and the need for comfort.  He had merely been checking on Onieda’s sleep, as he had every day since her birth 17 years earlier.  Pushing the door open further, and moving with a lithe step, Norwin quickly came to his progeny’s side, and held her head gently to his slim chest.

Even a year ago, he would have expected Onieda’s tears.  6 months ago, she would have pushed him away, brusquely informing him that she was ok.  A month ago, her mother, his wife of 60 years, took a fall from her horse and died.  The barriers of teenage rebellion had been ripped asunder, and Onieda and Norwin were again as close as they had been when Onieda was 6.

“The dreams again?” He asked, already knowing the answer.

“Yes, poppa.  It woke me, and I still can’t remember what they are.”

He rubbed the top of her head, smoothing her slept-tossed hair.  When he had first moved to her, Onieda had been shaking violently.  Now, feeling safe and protected in his arms, the shaking ceased.  He looked down at his child as she looked up.  Their eyes met.  Hers spoke of the gratitude and love that she felt.  His were filled with the concern over her night terrors, the loss of the soul mate he saw reflected in the lines of his daughters face and the pride he felt for her.

Tuesday, September 05, 2006

Summer slips away

Now that, my friends, is a wedding.

My brother-in-law’s wedding was great.  It was a short (8 minutes), outdoor (74°F sunny) ceremony.  I’d go into what they wore, but...I don’t really care, they looked good.

The parents (hers and his) created a giant buffet style dinner that was simply fantastic.  I ate a little more than I probably should have, but proceeded to dance for ~4 straight hours, so it balances out.

The next day, I almost couldn’t move.  But after a nice hot shower, and a little cleanup help, I felt good.  We drove home on Sunday, mowed the lawn and watched the Matrix.

Labor day, I spent vegging.  I cooked some venison stew up for lunch (and lunches this week, due to my skill at cooking for 10!) and it’s probably the best I’ve made.  (healthy too, vegtables and crap I watched the second 2 matrix movies, and played some WoW.

So, here’s September.  I NEED to get out on the boat, at least once this month.  It’s simply not worth the $3,000 a year, if I only take it out twice.  Hell, it’s not worth that price, if I take it out less than 30 times...but that’s a whole different blog subject.

Thursday, August 31, 2006

Parties and weddings

Last weekend, I went with a bunch of guys on a bachelor party.  We hit Wisconsin Dells and had a good time.

We rode some go-karts, yelled at women and bungee jumped.

That’s right, jumped out of a little cage, with elastic cords strapped to our ankles.  The place we jumped at videoed the activity.  Watching the video is amusing, seeing the jump from a different angle than the ground rushing toward you.

I also noticed that, well, I’m fat.  Not just a little extra weight on the old gut, but serious amounts of hang-age, everywhere.  So, on Sunday, I ate my last pig out style, and started counting calories on Monday.  I’ve been reading The Hacker’s Diet and it has some pretty good general information.  I mean, I know that to lose weight, you need to eat fewer calories than you burn. 

Really, all I’m going to do is watch my intake, and get my normal amount of exercise for the first couple weeks.  Every time I’ve started excising in the past, my food intake has just gone up.  This time, I’m going to focus on the intake side, and get myself in the habit of eating normal portions.  Then, when my body is over that shock, and I can go to bed without my stomach screaming, I’ll start some low impact work, so that my body doesn’t eat all of my musculature.

I figure that since I’m blogging, and blogging is all talking about yourself, I might as well go whole hog with it.  I mean, that’s the fun, right?

Wednesday, August 30, 2006

It’s a dirty job, but somebody has to do it

I work for a property management company.  We rent out spaces.  We deal in commercial and residential units for the majority of our operations.  Our single biggest department, number of employees-wise, is maintenance.  They deal with every complaint from leaky toilets, long grass, to “odd smells”.

This isn’t about them though, it’s about me.

The department uses an archaic Lotus Approach database for all their work order and time sheet needs.  This same database is later exported into our accounting system for payroll.  It’s also used for all the reporting to individual projects.

It’s the slowest piece of garbage ever.  The database itself is homegrown.  Read that as designed by someone that doesn’t really understand what an index is.  OR why there should be separate tables for specific things, instead of just random extra databases.  Granted, the guy that wrote it did a damn fine job, given the circumstances.  It works, albeit slowly, for everything they want it to do.  Most of the time.

Every 2 weeks, we get a constant stream of complaints about the speed.  Almost 2 years ago, we contracted with a company to rewrite the application, using a Web front end (most likely ASP) and a SQL back-end.  This company specializes in exactly this sort of custom application building.  They haven’t even started on it.

I think I could hammer something out for in, given a month to work.  And it looks more and more like I’m going to have to do that.  I don’t want to do that, at all.  I know how much time it will consume, and how much of a headache I’ll get just writing it.  Then we’ll have to support our users, and train them all up on the new way to do things.  Just thinking about it makes me anxietous.  That should really be a word.

And to top it all off, my video card crapped out, and the new one I ordered is on back-order.  Maybe it’s time to sneak in an order of a couple workstation PCs for the IT department.

Currently Listening:

Artist:  Gordon Lightfoot
Album:  The Complete Greatest Hits
Year:  2002

Tuesday, August 29, 2006

Faster than I thought

Ok, all of my myspace blogs are moved over.  I’m going to leave them over there, due to the quality comments they got.

I’m almost wondering if I should mirror the new ones over here, with a link over there, since only 3 people know about this site at this point.  Maybe a global link?  I don’t know.  I’m not really sure what I mean to accomplish with this, other than to give me an outlet for stress, and possibly some creativity.

I can’t promise the creativity though.

I intend to follow the “Mine.” storyline up.  Really.  There’s some other pieces like it that I have laying around, started, half a chapter here and there, that I’d like to get into digital format, and be able to work on as the mood strikes.

I’m also moving everything I had up in a subdirectory on the Windows server, over here.  I’m not 100% on file sharing/file modes in a Linux environment, and this gives me a great opportunity to sharpen up on that.

The Migration

My plan is to move all of the myspace blogs I wrote over here.  There’s not that many of them, so it shouldn’t take long.  It should give me a nice jumping off point to flesh this bad boy out.

The plan is to eventually have all the pictures and shit that I have shared out in the past here too, so that they’re centralized.  That’s a goal for another day though.