I normally write this blog at 6 AM, before I start my day. On days when I’m doing Moulage (casualty simulation) at an exercise, I’m elbow-deep in nose and scar wax at that point. So I have to wait to blog until after I’ve finished and scrubbed my hands of all the fake blood.
One intense day done, and I’m in the middle of intense day #2. I am so tired. I’m getting 5 hours of sleep a night, and I can tell. I’m dreaming of sleeping in tomorrow.
No pictures from the event, because all mine are gory.
Writing late today. I have already done morning moulage, making up several people to look like victims. I’m dragging a bit even though I got enough sleep last night. It’s a long couple of days. Wish me luck.
Still on the road — it’s amazing how much sitting in a van for 12 hours really tires one out. Nothing to take pictures of in Elkhart IN, but here we are. See you tomorrow!
It’s definitely a Monday morning. I woke up from annoying nightmares a few minutes early, and it was too late to go back to bed. I don’t really have words right now, just a lingering need to go back to sleep. Which I will not because of the danger of sleeping through that 11 o’clock appointment.
I now have my coffee. At the moment, it’s not accomplishing much. But the austere white house across the street has a rosy glow to it, and the day promises to be productive.
I’m at the Broadway Cafe in Kansas City, hoping my seedlings upstate are doing well. I’m drinking a latte and absorbing a real coffee house ambiance, which I have needed for a while.
Not that I dislike my local Starbucks, because it fills in for the real coffeehouses we’ve had in town, and is better than the current place that serves coffee downtown, which is a defeated pile of go-cups. But it’s not a real coffeehouse experience because of its corporate nature.
Coffeehouse thoughts: It’s about three weeks till the end of the semester, for which I am really thankful. Summer will have interns, but that means a much more flexible schedule with some rest. That sounds good to me.
I feel exceptionally calm right now, like I will make it to the end of the school year without the disturbances of the past, without unfinished projects with looming deadlines. It feels good not being manic or depressed or both.
Writing is going slow; I haven’t quite found the rhythm of the story yet. It hasn’t developed into enough of a story. I need to get there and not run away from another novel.
I need more coffee. I could fall asleep in my latte right now.
We made it to Utica/Ottawa/Starved Rock Illinois, and we are settled in for the next couple days. The cabin is the same one we’ve stayed in previous years, with a fireplace and a cozy atmosphere. The bathroom is a bit chilly to remind the occupants that this is absolutely a cabin.
Before we checked in, we wandered over to Ottawa to check out The Cheese Shop. It is actually a decent cheese shop and deli, and the lunch special was that specialty of LaSalle County — pork tenderloin sandwiches. The tenderloins here are thin and tender and crispy and bigger than the buns — all one wants in a pork tenderloin sandwich. Ottawa is decked nicely, and there’s a Kristkindl (sp?) market near the river that I wished I had time to wander. It will probably be gone by the time we get back Monday.
I am in the Great Hall at the lodge proper right now. There are massive wood tables and low couches in a rustic style that have to be over 50 years old, probably older. I’ve seem lots of hugs; families are gathering for Christmas.
This is the fireplace in the Great Hall. It is actually two-sided, but the other side is blocked off for a wedding or something.
There’s a little gift shop just off the lobby. It’s an eclectic blend of souvenirs, jewelry, t-shirts, and outfits for women of all ages certain age who shop. Not me, though; I’m pretty casual (and cheap). There are some flannel shirts I covet on one display rack and what looks like a big leather backpack which I really covet (but can’t afford). Ok, false alarm — the backpack is not leather.
There’s a young girl in flannel pajamas with her father who’s wearing his flannel pants as well, and a gingerbread house contest spread along a couple tables. I think the replica of the hotel wing of the lodge (Made by the Maintenance Department) wins, with the chalet in second place.
I’m supposed to write a romance novel about this place. I wish I had the guts to ask to tour the kitchen, because it’s part of the story. I do know, however, what commercial kitchens look like and how they operate, because I spent my college years in them as a prep cook and my thirties volunteering as a head cook for a soup kitchen.
I have discovered that there is a paucity of outlets in the Great Lodge and the cabin, but there are (or at least were) a bevy of writing desks somewhere on second floor of the hotel section that probably have outlets. I’m going to have to give up my scenic view before long because my iPad is down to 36 35% battery.
Maybe some more typing (I might actually write some of the story) and then a dip in the hot tub and a nap or enjoying the fireplace in the cabin. It’s going to be a relaxing Sunday for sure.
I have nothing planned for today. It’s Sunday, and I want to soak up all the leisure I can before the work week starts tomorrow. I just woke up, and a nap feels like a good idea already. I’d do better drinking a cup of coffee and listening to chill music, which is what I’m doing right now.
The coffee is strong and the music mellow. A good combination, but I’m still sleepy. It’s only 7 AM, so I have a whole day of nothing ahead of me. I will probably do something, though — I have some internet searches for the upcoming novel.
Here’s a picture of Chloe doing what I feel like doing today:
Today is my 61st birthday. I made it through 60, which was not as traumatic as I thought it would be. I had moments where I felt like I aged overnight (and apparently, we go through an ‘aging spurt’ at age 60). Most of the time, though, I thought “Oh, yeah. I don’t have to worry about that anymore. I’m old.”
Doodle Birthday party background
I plan to spend this birthday quietly. Going to work, checking Facebook for birthday wishes, going out to dinner at a steakhouse. My birthday present is a mug that says “Coffee? What about second coffee?” a la ‘second breakfast’ in Lord of the Rings.
I am hoping for a good day, as I always request from the universe: “… a good day, a productive day, a day where I do what You want me to.”
If you were going to open up a shop, what would you sell?
I have always had the desire to open a cafe. I would serve coffee and coffee drinks, pastries, and a light lunch like sandwiches and soup (I am in the US, so this is what people would ask for.)
In a cafe, one sells more than coffee or food. One sells atmosphere, coffee culture, thirdspace. One provides a place where people meet and find community. I would make sure I provided a welcoming atmosphere, from seating to decor to staff.
My idea is creativity and comfort. Two opposing tensions, but a dynamic mix. I hope to have different modes of coffee making available, and maybe even coffee flights for the curious. But there’s also a coffee of the day or an Americano.
In a perfect world, I would have the capital to put into this, and it would be my retirement job. I don’t. But I can dream, can’t I?
Words Like Me 