Enchantments
Musings About Writing and Stories About Life

She's like the girl in the movie when the Spitfire falls
Like the girl in the picture that he couldn't afford
She's like the girl with the smile in the hospital ward
Like the girl in the novel in the wind on the moors

~~Marillion
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Ash and glass

Oops, busy enough yesterday that I completely forgot to post anything. I did a decent amount of copy editing, although I was good and made myself take frequent breaks. I got most of the GP done as well; I’m waiting for a couple more things (once which arrived late last night or this morning), and then I can print it for Cat to proofread on Sunday night. Monday it’ll go to the copy shop, Tuesday I’ll pick up the rest of the paperwork and supplies from the former chronicler, and Wednesday or Thursday I’ll get it prepped and mailed. I bit later than I would have liked, but not bad, considering I started from scratch, have an achy wrist, etc.

Cat offered to take me out to dinner last night, as a thank-you for letting her stay for the week, which was very sweet. First I had to go to Rowen and Ceridwen’s to get some GWW checks signed for Ken. It all sorted itself out that the five of us (including Rowen’s friend, with whom he was planning to have dinner with) went out to eat. Much fun, and my Caesar salad and shrimp scampi (redundant, I know, but what else can I call it?) was excellent. Cat and I ate our leftovers for breakfast this morning, and there’s still 2/3 of her monster dessert (an obscene concoction invented by our cute waitress, involving chocolate cake, chocolate sauce, hot fudge sauce, chocolate chips, ice cream and whipped cream) in the freezer.

Cat had planned to go home (er, her other home, that is) last night, but the traffic sucked, so she stayed and we watched things like “Manchild” and “So Graham Norton”. Hee.

Then I talked to Ken. Today is his one day off on this trip (and he wisely scheduled a day off, rather than working 7 days straight), and he had planned to hook up with some BMW folks. But the only place he could find to rent bikes was on the other side of Seattle, which was just silly. Well, yesterday he found an ad for a reasonably local place that rents…Harleys. Yeah, I asked him to get a picture. Ken on a Harley is just a silly wrong thing.

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When I got up today (11:10 a.m., even though I have no memory of dozing after I turned off the 10 a.m. alarm), the sky was a hazy orange. A bit later, Cat noticed the layer of ash in the pool. I didn’t think we were in the way of the wind patterns from any of the forest fires, but I guess I was wrong. It’s a little eerie. Later, at the party (more about that in a moment), Donna said “If small rocks start falling from the sky, we’re _outta_ here” (she just got back from Pompeii), and then there were jokes about “Night of the Comet”. Still, a little eerie.

I didn’t even know about the fires until a couple of days ago when they were brought up on the Caid list (the Crescent Herald was evacuated). That’s what I get for avoiding the news (which studies have shown report more negative news than ever—there are times when Ken has to take the Sunday paper away from me, I get so upset). Just so you know, none of the fires are anywhere near threatening us, but there are other homes and lives in jeopardy, and the air quality isn’t helping anyone.

I did a wee bit of copy editing this morning, and saw Cat off (she’s going to her other home on the weekends to do laundry and grocery shopping and catching up on her TiVo recordings, although she watched some of the shows with me during the week), and had a much-needed shower. Eventually I headed north to the Valley and Gillian’s annual Pumpkin Carving Party, which this year was doubling as Donna’s Farewell Party.

I met Donna in ’94, I think, so almost 10 years ago. I met her online before that, and, interestingly, we ended up being hated by the same person online. In ’94, she’d moved to LA and e-mailed me to say that her roommate knew of a Styx cover band that was playing locally, and did I want to come? So I met her and Gillian and other folks, although the band wasn’t a Styx cover band, so we got up and left halfway through their set (after they stated that they didn’t play Styx, despite their name being Pieces of Eight), thus cutting the audience in the bar in half. Did I mention I met Donna via Styx fandom?

She got a job working on “Highlander: The Series” because Gillian was a writer there, so this is how I ended up rubbing elbows with industry folks tonight. There was Bob, the actor and Highlander sword dude, who looks startlingly like my ex. There were the two guys who wrote the episode of “” that was on tonight. (If I understood Donna’s sotto voce, one of them used to work for Lucasfilm and the other was the editor or editorial director or something of Marvel Comics and created the character of Wolverine.) And there was Darla, Donna’s roomie, whose agency represents Andy Sirkis, so she’s off to New Zealand for a few weeks and the world premiere of “Return of the King” on 1 December.

Don’t even get me started about the “Highlander” autographed stuff and other cool things floating around Gillian’s house.

It’s funny, because they’re just people, you know? I consider Donna and Gillian to be friends, and Darla to be an acquaintance, and Bob at least to be someone I see annually at Gillian’s party. But sometimes, just for a moment, I slip into Fangirl Mode and am just amazed and enthralled. Embarrassing, really. Luckily I tend not to be vocal during those moments.

Anyway. The party was fun. I didn’t carve a pumpkin, preferring to give my wrist a rest. I ate taquitos and roasted a bratwurst over the firepit, and mostly hung out with Donna, who is a totally cool person. She’s moving back to Baltimore for a few years, to care for her aging mother. She’ll be back 4 or so times a year for visits, and will move back in a few years. And hey, Baltimore is just a few hours from Sarah’s.

Eventually I headed home. Just past the onramp to the 605 (on the 405), there’s a big overpass. Just before the overpass, traffic stopped. I was the last car to stop before the cop behind did the weaving back-and-forth thing that stops all other cars. I ended up in a group of a few cars that were stuck between there and the accident itself, long enough that I had the emergency brake on, but not long enough to actually turn off the car. There were multiple cops, fire trucks, and ambulances. I turned down the radio, partly out of respect for whatever had happened and partly in case a cop needed to talk to me and I had to roll down the window (this way, I didn’t have to fiddle with the radio as well). A cop put one of the flares next to the right side of the car, so there was a red glow to my right. I closed my eyes and breathed a prayer to the Lord and Lady, asking them to help the families find strength to deal with whatever had happened. I was grateful that I hadn’t seen the accident, and couldn’t see it now.

Within 5-10 minutes, the interim cars were allowed to creep forward. A car was overturned. People were sitting at the side of the road, and I didn’t see any stretchers. Then again, it wasn’t my place to stop and look, but to continue by and on my way. Despite all of the glass on the road, it’s possible no one was killed. It’s amazing that no other cars were involved (at least, I didn’t notice any others), for the traffic had been moderately heavy.

It was good to get home and call Ken and hear his voice.

He had a good day. They rode out to Mt. St. Helen, and then to the Columbia River Gorge. Tomorrow they’re going out for breakfast, and then they’ll take back roads back to the place where Ken rented the Harley. ( Ken on a Harley. He complained about the lack of heated handgrips…)

Hey, how did it get to be 1 a.m.?! I was going to curl up and watch some TV. Hrm. Guess curling up in bed with a good book (Book 1 of The Fey series by Kris) is a better plan. ‘Night!


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