Thursday, January 09, 2014
Where did the year go?
One moment I'm preparing for Nano, the next Christmas/New Year is over and I'm back at work wondering what happened to the past two months.
Apparently, there aren't enough hours in the day for me to do any the stuff I'd like as opposed to what I have to.
It's all a blur. I probably need to slow down, smell the roses, put my feet up and do something other than be a government worker or carer, both of which take up enormous amounts of time. I should note that I resent neither, but it would be nice to have a few more hours in the day.
Even now, the day draws to a close after another ten hours at work - budget constraints have meant no recruiting for positions of staff who leave. From a section of four this time last year, we are now... two - including the boss. Of course, the level of work hasn't changed and it must be done. Some days, I feel like there's so much to do that I accomplish virtually nothing - at least not that I remember. Since I haven't been fired yet, I must be doing something!!
But... I've managed to read two books! Two! I know I shouldn't be excited about that, but I am. I've always believed that to write well you have to read, and read a lot; call it 'learning by osmosis'. Reading inspires, something I've been sorely lacking if my most recent Nano project is anything to go by.
Next week, I begin two and a half weeks' leave, courtesy of all the extra hours I've worked over the past year. The decision is what to do: write, edit, read, research family history, watch some screen, along with clearing out the garage of the parent's house.
Damn, but I'm tired. I guess I'll just wait and see.
Sunday, October 27, 2013
Countdown to Nano
I thought I'd ease back into work - but it Murphy's Law stepped in and it's been a bun fight. Long hours to catch up on the work that should have been done while I was on leave, but wasn't.
Anyway, insert a whinge, a whine and a suitably grumpy tirade. All done? Then let's move on.
Friday sees the start of Nano, the National Novel Writing Month, an annual writing frenzy that the editors in all the publishing houses fear.
I have a title (Monarch, Tyrant, Slave), an as yet unnamed lead character and a scene and a half. Yeah, okay, I have three groups of people with competing ambitions and the question of how choice clashes with duty. After that, who knows what will happen?
It should be a fun ride finding out.
I suspect there will be thousands of people setting fingers to keyboard on midnight 31st October, anxious to get started; I shall not be one of them since I have to work on Friday (see above whinging) but I will be throwing heavy-duty word counts around. Well, I'm gonna join thousands of others in trying!
Anyway, insert a whinge, a whine and a suitably grumpy tirade. All done? Then let's move on.
Friday sees the start of Nano, the National Novel Writing Month, an annual writing frenzy that the editors in all the publishing houses fear.
I have a title (Monarch, Tyrant, Slave), an as yet unnamed lead character and a scene and a half. Yeah, okay, I have three groups of people with competing ambitions and the question of how choice clashes with duty. After that, who knows what will happen?
It should be a fun ride finding out.
I suspect there will be thousands of people setting fingers to keyboard on midnight 31st October, anxious to get started; I shall not be one of them since I have to work on Friday (see above whinging) but I will be throwing heavy-duty word counts around. Well, I'm gonna join thousands of others in trying!
Tuesday, October 08, 2013
Awesome Lives Here!
New Zealand should put that on an oversized sign in every airport.
The scenery is spectacular, the food is amazing, the people are friendly, helpful and, well, awesome.
Fifteen days of travelling around this glorious country resulted in over eight hundred photos. Yes, some of them are less than useful, but that's on me - no faulting the landscape, I don't think there's an unattractive area in the Land of the Long White Cloud.
I've decided I really like campervanning and New Zealand is the perfect place for it. The roads are good and the holiday parks planted in just the right locations for some early morning photos - if, of course, you're an early riser like I am (my siblings, not so much).
We started in the north island, at Hobbiton - as you do. There are plenty of photographs out there of the set, but here's one I think a lot of people miss from the Green Dragon Inn:
It was on a pillar, near the second bar and the roaring fire. If we had a Green Dragon Inn near where I live? I'd be there most nights.
I've been sorting through the photographs and pausing, remembering how and where I took each shot; needless to say, I've not been able to finish the entire lot. When I do, I'll post - there could be quite a few given the photogenic nature of the country. I'm also still sorting through my adventures, getting them all in order. When you're having a good time, no, a great time, every day is fabulous and runs together.
Maybe I'll be able to put together a better travelogue, once I've settled the squealie fan-girl moments.
But I'm already planning another trip next year.
The scenery is spectacular, the food is amazing, the people are friendly, helpful and, well, awesome.
Fifteen days of travelling around this glorious country resulted in over eight hundred photos. Yes, some of them are less than useful, but that's on me - no faulting the landscape, I don't think there's an unattractive area in the Land of the Long White Cloud.
I've decided I really like campervanning and New Zealand is the perfect place for it. The roads are good and the holiday parks planted in just the right locations for some early morning photos - if, of course, you're an early riser like I am (my siblings, not so much).
We started in the north island, at Hobbiton - as you do. There are plenty of photographs out there of the set, but here's one I think a lot of people miss from the Green Dragon Inn:
It was on a pillar, near the second bar and the roaring fire. If we had a Green Dragon Inn near where I live? I'd be there most nights.
I've been sorting through the photographs and pausing, remembering how and where I took each shot; needless to say, I've not been able to finish the entire lot. When I do, I'll post - there could be quite a few given the photogenic nature of the country. I'm also still sorting through my adventures, getting them all in order. When you're having a good time, no, a great time, every day is fabulous and runs together.
Maybe I'll be able to put together a better travelogue, once I've settled the squealie fan-girl moments.
But I'm already planning another trip next year.
Wednesday, August 28, 2013
Cover art... oh, shiny!
I've been looking around at some photos online for development into cover art.
I didn't get very far... I found Street Art Utopia and spent some significant time wandering around the website.
I confess I like art. I especially love art that makes me smile...
art that makes me think...
clever art...
art that makes me wonder...
and art that leaves me breathless with its' genius...
Street art adds to the cityscape, to our culture. It asks questions of the populace and demands to be recognised as more than graffiti. I may have to pre-order the book so I can admire the talent of all those artists.
I could wax lyrical about the subject, present astonishing examples of 3D street artwork, but it's all really off-point to what I should be doing - finding some simple photos that I can use. But... you've got to admit, the artwork is amazing.
Monday, August 19, 2013
Arteeste
I'm not much for drawing. In fact, I'm pretty hopeless at it.
Fortunately, some bright spark went and invented the computer. From there, more bright sparks developed software to make things much easier to perform tasks. Originally designed to solve mathematical equations, computers can now do a wide variety of tasks, only limited by imagination.
Equally as fortunate, writing still remains the same; it's just the method that's changed. Like most people, I learnt to write with crayon, then pencil, pen, typewriter and now I use a laptop. I, too, am limited by imagination. It's a good thing I've been blessed with a rather active imagination, otherwise, I'd be doing something completely different.
I think everyone has an artistic side - it just appears in different forms: painting, sculpting, problem solving, speaking, poetry, sport, advertising campaigns... it all takes imagination.
Which brings me to drawing.
I'm trying to think of what type of cover to develop for the next book, Huntress: Besieged. Not draw, but haul in some freebie pictures from the internet and marry them up for some sort of coherent, clue-ridden cover art.
The plan is to post the book by the end of August. September will see me in New Zealand on a Lord of the Rings tour (yeah, go on, hate me, I don't mind) with a couple of sisters. Should be fun.
Found this. Nice to know a woman did it first:
Fortunately, some bright spark went and invented the computer. From there, more bright sparks developed software to make things much easier to perform tasks. Originally designed to solve mathematical equations, computers can now do a wide variety of tasks, only limited by imagination.
Equally as fortunate, writing still remains the same; it's just the method that's changed. Like most people, I learnt to write with crayon, then pencil, pen, typewriter and now I use a laptop. I, too, am limited by imagination. It's a good thing I've been blessed with a rather active imagination, otherwise, I'd be doing something completely different.
I think everyone has an artistic side - it just appears in different forms: painting, sculpting, problem solving, speaking, poetry, sport, advertising campaigns... it all takes imagination.
Which brings me to drawing.
I'm trying to think of what type of cover to develop for the next book, Huntress: Besieged. Not draw, but haul in some freebie pictures from the internet and marry them up for some sort of coherent, clue-ridden cover art.
The plan is to post the book by the end of August. September will see me in New Zealand on a Lord of the Rings tour (yeah, go on, hate me, I don't mind) with a couple of sisters. Should be fun.
Found this. Nice to know a woman did it first:
Sunday, August 11, 2013
A reminder of self
I was reminded, recently, that I haven't posted in some time... months, really.
Tru dat.
Too little time and not enough to say is probably closer to the truth.
The past year has been filled with work and family obligations, which has left precious little time for anything else. Working long hours and caring for an infirm relative meant making sacrifices, and I made quite a few, probably too many.
I didn't understand how stressful it's been, nor how unhappy choosing 'convention' over 'art' would make me; until last week.
And it all started with a thumb drive. A dragon thumb drive, given to me for my birthday. I have lots of little drives, filled with various drafts of books, research stuff, information about the most obscure historical things, family history; stuff I needed to rationalise. So I looked at my Homer Simpson thumb drive and there were all my drafts up to about 2010, including the very first multi-book series I wrote.
Once upon a time, when I wrote Oracle, I thought it was the best thing I'd ever written. Actually, it was the third piece I ever wrote. It took six weeks of 10-14 hour days to write 260,000 words; and when I was done, I celebrated with a glass of white and set it aside. Over the next year or so, I fiddled with it and then went on to write other stuff.
Last week, I stuck the drive into the laptop and spent the week - one hour a day - re-reading the piece. I made notes, inserted comments, corrected spelling, questioned motives, felt appalled that I could do that to characters! And I resented put it away because I had to get up early the next morning for work.
When I finished reading the work, I felt... happier than I have in a over a year. Should I ever get this work published, I'll have Holly Lisle to thank. Oracle was an experiment: do your worst to your characters, but give them a few candy events along the way. What it meant was what I call 'writing in a circle'. Give yourself a starting point - your characters are happy, or content and then take that happiness away from them. Plunge them into a situation that takes them out of their comfort zone, that takes away everything that is familiar. Expose your characters to what they fear/hate the most and when they are at their lowest, give them hope. Of course, it gets taken away, but if you balance the good with the bad, you'll write your way back to the beginning - where the crisis has been solved, your characters have a resolution but they are changed in a way they couldn't have foreseen when you first sat down to write.
A book in a nutshell.
Oracle needs a lot of work, using time and focus that I don't currently have. It's too big. But now that I've arranged what time I have accordingly, I'll be working on other books - the next two Huntress novels to be posted before the end of the year.
Blogging, however, will not be as frequent. I'm planning on setting aside time on a Sunday to update every week.
Working a day job is just that: a job to bring money in. Family is family and must come first. But my first love will always be writing; and when I'm away from it, I can feel my Self fade. I am a writer and a writer I remain.
Thanks, Marina, for reminding me and caring enough to ask if I was alright.
Tru dat.
Too little time and not enough to say is probably closer to the truth.
The past year has been filled with work and family obligations, which has left precious little time for anything else. Working long hours and caring for an infirm relative meant making sacrifices, and I made quite a few, probably too many.
I didn't understand how stressful it's been, nor how unhappy choosing 'convention' over 'art' would make me; until last week.
And it all started with a thumb drive. A dragon thumb drive, given to me for my birthday. I have lots of little drives, filled with various drafts of books, research stuff, information about the most obscure historical things, family history; stuff I needed to rationalise. So I looked at my Homer Simpson thumb drive and there were all my drafts up to about 2010, including the very first multi-book series I wrote.
Once upon a time, when I wrote Oracle, I thought it was the best thing I'd ever written. Actually, it was the third piece I ever wrote. It took six weeks of 10-14 hour days to write 260,000 words; and when I was done, I celebrated with a glass of white and set it aside. Over the next year or so, I fiddled with it and then went on to write other stuff.
Last week, I stuck the drive into the laptop and spent the week - one hour a day - re-reading the piece. I made notes, inserted comments, corrected spelling, questioned motives, felt appalled that I could do that to characters! And I resented put it away because I had to get up early the next morning for work.
When I finished reading the work, I felt... happier than I have in a over a year. Should I ever get this work published, I'll have Holly Lisle to thank. Oracle was an experiment: do your worst to your characters, but give them a few candy events along the way. What it meant was what I call 'writing in a circle'. Give yourself a starting point - your characters are happy, or content and then take that happiness away from them. Plunge them into a situation that takes them out of their comfort zone, that takes away everything that is familiar. Expose your characters to what they fear/hate the most and when they are at their lowest, give them hope. Of course, it gets taken away, but if you balance the good with the bad, you'll write your way back to the beginning - where the crisis has been solved, your characters have a resolution but they are changed in a way they couldn't have foreseen when you first sat down to write.
A book in a nutshell.
Oracle needs a lot of work, using time and focus that I don't currently have. It's too big. But now that I've arranged what time I have accordingly, I'll be working on other books - the next two Huntress novels to be posted before the end of the year.
Blogging, however, will not be as frequent. I'm planning on setting aside time on a Sunday to update every week.
Working a day job is just that: a job to bring money in. Family is family and must come first. But my first love will always be writing; and when I'm away from it, I can feel my Self fade. I am a writer and a writer I remain.
Thanks, Marina, for reminding me and caring enough to ask if I was alright.
Wednesday, February 27, 2013
What happened to January?
I don't know where the year has gone. It's nearly March and it's been a few weeks since I posted last.
What have I been doing? Why working long hours at a day job and then coming home to care for the aged parent; not much time for anything else (as witnessed by how few books I read last year).
Yes, I had a few Christmas posts, but cutting and pasting takes no time at all. Actually sitting down and composing a post takes much longer. Plus you have to think about what to write. Since taking up this job, I've done nowhere near the writing I normally would, nor have I been reading - I think I can feel my creative intelligence slipping away.
But no; it is, however, changing to creative video editing and podcasting, among other things, for work. I find the work interesting and a challenge. Not the type of challenge I want. How do you choose between two vocations you're not only good at, but happy with? Apparently I'm making a decision without making a decision, although I feel an increasing longing to get back to my books and writing.
It's all a matter of time management - or it would be if I had the time to manage... it's an either/or scenario. So. I'm going to try and read one book and then edit one of my own, without mixing the two. No multitasking (I do enough of that at work covering three jobs: my own, one for a staff member on long term sick leave and one for a staff member who left for another job - Budget constraints? What Budget constraints?)
First up is the TBR pile. It's taken on epic proportions and needs to be cut down to a monstrous size instead. Game of Thrones is first up (and my, isn't it a big book?) followed by edits on the next Huntress book (three more, including this one, and then the series is done).
I have no idea how long it's going to take. Time, why do you hate me so, or worse, ignore my pleas for more of you?
Sigh. I need a holiday...
What have I been doing? Why working long hours at a day job and then coming home to care for the aged parent; not much time for anything else (as witnessed by how few books I read last year).
Yes, I had a few Christmas posts, but cutting and pasting takes no time at all. Actually sitting down and composing a post takes much longer. Plus you have to think about what to write. Since taking up this job, I've done nowhere near the writing I normally would, nor have I been reading - I think I can feel my creative intelligence slipping away.
But no; it is, however, changing to creative video editing and podcasting, among other things, for work. I find the work interesting and a challenge. Not the type of challenge I want. How do you choose between two vocations you're not only good at, but happy with? Apparently I'm making a decision without making a decision, although I feel an increasing longing to get back to my books and writing.
It's all a matter of time management - or it would be if I had the time to manage... it's an either/or scenario. So. I'm going to try and read one book and then edit one of my own, without mixing the two. No multitasking (I do enough of that at work covering three jobs: my own, one for a staff member on long term sick leave and one for a staff member who left for another job - Budget constraints? What Budget constraints?)
First up is the TBR pile. It's taken on epic proportions and needs to be cut down to a monstrous size instead. Game of Thrones is first up (and my, isn't it a big book?) followed by edits on the next Huntress book (three more, including this one, and then the series is done).
I have no idea how long it's going to take. Time, why do you hate me so, or worse, ignore my pleas for more of you?
Sigh. I need a holiday...
Sunday, December 23, 2012
Your Christmas baking
Well, we're still here. Good thing I'd already bought the Christmas presents. Anyone know when the next apocalypse is supposed to arrive? Just so I can prepare myself...
It felt like I'd discovered a black hole - at least with the internet access. All I can think of is that the heat and onshore breeze is messin' with the wireless signal. Morning access is fine, but once the wind comes in off the Bay, reception turns very dodgy indeed. It may get worse given the storm and strong wind warnings we've got for the next couple of days.
Your next Christmas... amusement:
Holiday Fruitcake Recipe
1 C Water
1 C Sugar
4 Large eggs
3 C dried fruit
1 tsp. baking soda
1 tsp. salt
1 C Brown sugar
Lemon juice, nuts
1 FULL bottle of your favorite whiskey
Sample the whiskey to check for quality.
Take out a large bowl.
Check the whiskey again to be sure that it is of the highest quality.
Pour 1 level cup and drink. Repeat.
Turn on the electric mixer; beat 1 C of butter in a large fluffy bowl.
Add 1 tsp. sugar and beat again.
Make sure the whiskey is still OK.
Try another cup. Turn off the mixer.
Break two geggs and add to the bowl and chuck in the cup of dried fruit.
Mix on the burner.
If the fried fruit gets stuck in the beaters, pry it loose with a screwdriver.
Sample the whiskey to check for toxisisticity.
Next, sift 2 cups of salt.
Or something. Who cares? Check the whiskey.
Now sift the lemon juice and strain your nuts.
Add one tablespoon of sugar or something...whatever you can find.
Grease the oven. Turn on the cake tin to 350 degrees.
Don't forget to beat off the turner. Throw the bowl out of the window.
Check the whiskey again. Go to bed.
Who the hell likes fruit cake anyway???
It felt like I'd discovered a black hole - at least with the internet access. All I can think of is that the heat and onshore breeze is messin' with the wireless signal. Morning access is fine, but once the wind comes in off the Bay, reception turns very dodgy indeed. It may get worse given the storm and strong wind warnings we've got for the next couple of days.
Your next Christmas... amusement:
Holiday Fruitcake Recipe
1 C Water
1 C Sugar
4 Large eggs
3 C dried fruit
1 tsp. baking soda
1 tsp. salt
1 C Brown sugar
Lemon juice, nuts
1 FULL bottle of your favorite whiskey
Sample the whiskey to check for quality.
Take out a large bowl.
Check the whiskey again to be sure that it is of the highest quality.
Pour 1 level cup and drink. Repeat.
Turn on the electric mixer; beat 1 C of butter in a large fluffy bowl.
Add 1 tsp. sugar and beat again.
Make sure the whiskey is still OK.
Try another cup. Turn off the mixer.
Break two geggs and add to the bowl and chuck in the cup of dried fruit.
Mix on the burner.
If the fried fruit gets stuck in the beaters, pry it loose with a screwdriver.
Sample the whiskey to check for toxisisticity.
Next, sift 2 cups of salt.
Or something. Who cares? Check the whiskey.
Now sift the lemon juice and strain your nuts.
Add one tablespoon of sugar or something...whatever you can find.
Grease the oven. Turn on the cake tin to 350 degrees.
Don't forget to beat off the turner. Throw the bowl out of the window.
Check the whiskey again. Go to bed.
Who the hell likes fruit cake anyway???
Friday, December 21, 2012
The End is... sigh
Today's the day, so what's the world saying about it?
"And now The Mayan Channel forecast. Thursday: cloudy, chance of showers, high 39. Friday: volcanoes, asteroid strikes, apocalypse." –David Letterman
Certain people are already set with their explanations:
"And now The Mayan Channel forecast. Thursday: cloudy, chance of showers, high 39. Friday: volcanoes, asteroid strikes, apocalypse." –David Letterman
Certain people are already set with their explanations:
Thursday, December 20, 2012
Take a Taxi
This would be a community service announcement, but...
Hi family and friends!
With Christmas celebrations upon us, I would like to share a personal experience with my friends about drinking and driving.
As you may know some of us have been known to have brushes with the authorities from time to time on the way home after a "social session" out with friends. Well, two days ago I was out for an evening with friends and had several cocktails followed by some rather nice red wine.
Feeling jolly, I still had the sense to know that I may be slightly over the limit. That's when I did something that I've never done before - I took a cab home.
Sure enough on the way home there was a police road block but since it was a cab they waved it past. I arrived home safely without incident.
This was a real surprise as I had never driven a cab before, I don't know where I got it and now that it's in my garage I don't know what to do with it.
Hi family and friends!
With Christmas celebrations upon us, I would like to share a personal experience with my friends about drinking and driving.
As you may know some of us have been known to have brushes with the authorities from time to time on the way home after a "social session" out with friends. Well, two days ago I was out for an evening with friends and had several cocktails followed by some rather nice red wine.
Feeling jolly, I still had the sense to know that I may be slightly over the limit. That's when I did something that I've never done before - I took a cab home.
Sure enough on the way home there was a police road block but since it was a cab they waved it past. I arrived home safely without incident.
This was a real surprise as I had never driven a cab before, I don't know where I got it and now that it's in my garage I don't know what to do with it.
Tuesday, December 18, 2012
The Pearly Gates at Christmas
We had our office Christmas party today.... 'nuff said.
Number... something or other; how can you expect me to remember after the day I've had? Okay, the afternoon, but I still managed to get some audio editing in. It's amazing what you can make people say with a few judicious cuts of the file and pasting it where it shouldn't be. I wonder if I posted it to our intranet or not... Anyway. Three days to go until the End Of The Werld!!!
Three men die in a car accident Christmas Eve. They all find themselves at the pearly gates waiting to enter Heaven. On entering they must present something "Christmassy".
The first man searches his pocket, and finds some Mistletoe, so he is allowed in.
The second man presents a cracker, so he is also allowed in.
The third man pulls out a pair of panties.
Confused at this last gesture, St. Peter asks, "How do these represent Christmas?"
The third man answered "They're Carol's."
Number... something or other; how can you expect me to remember after the day I've had? Okay, the afternoon, but I still managed to get some audio editing in. It's amazing what you can make people say with a few judicious cuts of the file and pasting it where it shouldn't be. I wonder if I posted it to our intranet or not... Anyway. Three days to go until the End Of The Werld!!!
Three men die in a car accident Christmas Eve. They all find themselves at the pearly gates waiting to enter Heaven. On entering they must present something "Christmassy".
The first man searches his pocket, and finds some Mistletoe, so he is allowed in.
The second man presents a cracker, so he is also allowed in.
The third man pulls out a pair of panties.
Confused at this last gesture, St. Peter asks, "How do these represent Christmas?"
The third man answered "They're Carol's."
Monday, December 17, 2012
Technical Night Before Christmas
I found this one earlier on in the year - of course too late to post for last Christmas. As a writer and journalist, I find this hilarious, although you have to be patient and remember the original. I also think someone had wa-ay too much time on their hands...
Number six:
'Twas the nocturnal segment of the diurnal period preceding the annual Yuletide celebration, and throughout our place of residence, kinetic activity was not in evidence among the possessors of this potential, including that species of domestic rodent known as Mus musculus.
Hosiery was meticulously suspended from the forward edge of the wood burning caloric apparatus, pursuant to our anticipatory pleasure regarding an imminent visitation from an eccentric philanthropist among whose folkloric appellations is the honorific title of St. Nicholas.
The prepubescent siblings, comfortably ensconced in their respective accommodations of repose, were experiencing subconscious visual hallucinations of variegated fruit confections moving rhythmically through their cerebrums.
My conjugal partner and I, attired in our nocturnal head coverings, were about to take slumberous advantage of the hibernal darkness when upon the avenaceous exterior portion of the grounds there ascended such a cacophony of dissonance that I felt compelled to arise with alacrity from my place of repose for the purpose of ascertaining the precise source thereof.
Hastening to the casement, I forthwith opened the barriers sealing this fenestration, nothing thereupon that the lunar brilliance without, reflected as it was on the surface of a recent crystalline precipitation, might be said rival that of the solar meridian itself - thus permitting my incredulous optical sensory organs to behold a miniature airborne runnered conveyance drawn by eight diminutive specimens of the genus Rangifer, piloted by a miniscule, aged chauffeur so ebullient and nimble that it became instantly apparent to me that he was indeed our anticipated caller.
With his ungulate motive power travelling at what may possibly have been more vertiginous velocity than patriotic alarm predators, he vociferated loudly, expelled breath musically through contracted labia, and addressed each of the octet by his or her respective cognomen - "Now Dasher, now Dancer..." et al. - guiding them to the uppermost level of our abode, through which structure I could readily distinguish the concatenations of each of the 32 cloven pedal extremities.
As I retracted my cranium from its erstwhile location, and was performing a 180-degree pivot, our distinguished visitant achieved - with utmost celerity and via a downward leap - entry by wary of the smoke passage.
He was clad entirely in animal pelts soiled by the ebony residue from oxidations of carboniferous fuels which had accumulated on the walls thereof. His resemblance to a street vendor I attributed largely to the plethora of assorted playthings which he bore dorsally in a commodious cloth receptacle.
His orbs were scintillant with reflected luminosity, while his sub-maxillary dermal indentations gave every evidence of engaging amiability. The capillaries of his malar regions and nasal appurtenance were engorged with blood which suffused the subcutaneous layers, the former approximating the coloration of Albion's floral emblem, the latter that of the Prunus avium, or sweet cherry.
His amusing sub- and supra-labials resembled nothing so much as a common loop knot, and their ambient hirsute facial adornment appeared like small, tabular and columnar crystals of frozen water. Clenched firmly between his incisors was a smoking piece whose grey fumes forming a tenuous ellipse about his occiput, were suggestive of a decorative seasonal circlet of holly.
His visage was wider than it was high, and when he waxed audibly mirthful, his corpulent abdominal region undulated in the manner of impectinated fruit syrup in a hemispherical container.
He was, in short, neither more nor less than an obese, jocund, multigenarian gnome, the optical perception of whom rendered me visibly frolicsome despite every effort to refrain from so being. By rapidly lowering and than elevating one eyelid and rotating his head slightly to one side, he indicated that trepidation on my part was groundless.
Without utterance and with dispatch, he commenced filling the aforementioned appended hosiery with various of the aforementioned articles of merchandise extracted from the aforementioned previously dorsally transported cloth receptacle. Upon completion of this task, he executed an abrupt about-face, placed a single manual digit in lateral juxtaposition to his olfactory organ, inclined his cranium forward in a gesture of leave-taking, and forthwith effected his egress by renegotiating (in reverse) the smoke passage.
He then propelled himself in a short vector onto his conveyance, directed a musical expulsion of air through his contracted oral sphincter to the antlered quadrupeds of burden, and proceeded to soar aloft in a movement hitherto observable chiefly among the seed-bearing portions of a common weed. But I overheard his parting exclamation, audible immediately prior to his vehiculation beyond the limits of visibility: "Ecstatic Yuletide to the planetary constituency, and to that self same assemblage, my sincerest wishes for a salubriously beneficial and gratifyingly pleasurable period between sunset and dawn.”
Number six:
'Twas the nocturnal segment of the diurnal period preceding the annual Yuletide celebration, and throughout our place of residence, kinetic activity was not in evidence among the possessors of this potential, including that species of domestic rodent known as Mus musculus.
Hosiery was meticulously suspended from the forward edge of the wood burning caloric apparatus, pursuant to our anticipatory pleasure regarding an imminent visitation from an eccentric philanthropist among whose folkloric appellations is the honorific title of St. Nicholas.
The prepubescent siblings, comfortably ensconced in their respective accommodations of repose, were experiencing subconscious visual hallucinations of variegated fruit confections moving rhythmically through their cerebrums.
My conjugal partner and I, attired in our nocturnal head coverings, were about to take slumberous advantage of the hibernal darkness when upon the avenaceous exterior portion of the grounds there ascended such a cacophony of dissonance that I felt compelled to arise with alacrity from my place of repose for the purpose of ascertaining the precise source thereof.
Hastening to the casement, I forthwith opened the barriers sealing this fenestration, nothing thereupon that the lunar brilliance without, reflected as it was on the surface of a recent crystalline precipitation, might be said rival that of the solar meridian itself - thus permitting my incredulous optical sensory organs to behold a miniature airborne runnered conveyance drawn by eight diminutive specimens of the genus Rangifer, piloted by a miniscule, aged chauffeur so ebullient and nimble that it became instantly apparent to me that he was indeed our anticipated caller.
With his ungulate motive power travelling at what may possibly have been more vertiginous velocity than patriotic alarm predators, he vociferated loudly, expelled breath musically through contracted labia, and addressed each of the octet by his or her respective cognomen - "Now Dasher, now Dancer..." et al. - guiding them to the uppermost level of our abode, through which structure I could readily distinguish the concatenations of each of the 32 cloven pedal extremities.
As I retracted my cranium from its erstwhile location, and was performing a 180-degree pivot, our distinguished visitant achieved - with utmost celerity and via a downward leap - entry by wary of the smoke passage.
He was clad entirely in animal pelts soiled by the ebony residue from oxidations of carboniferous fuels which had accumulated on the walls thereof. His resemblance to a street vendor I attributed largely to the plethora of assorted playthings which he bore dorsally in a commodious cloth receptacle.
His orbs were scintillant with reflected luminosity, while his sub-maxillary dermal indentations gave every evidence of engaging amiability. The capillaries of his malar regions and nasal appurtenance were engorged with blood which suffused the subcutaneous layers, the former approximating the coloration of Albion's floral emblem, the latter that of the Prunus avium, or sweet cherry.
His amusing sub- and supra-labials resembled nothing so much as a common loop knot, and their ambient hirsute facial adornment appeared like small, tabular and columnar crystals of frozen water. Clenched firmly between his incisors was a smoking piece whose grey fumes forming a tenuous ellipse about his occiput, were suggestive of a decorative seasonal circlet of holly.
His visage was wider than it was high, and when he waxed audibly mirthful, his corpulent abdominal region undulated in the manner of impectinated fruit syrup in a hemispherical container.
He was, in short, neither more nor less than an obese, jocund, multigenarian gnome, the optical perception of whom rendered me visibly frolicsome despite every effort to refrain from so being. By rapidly lowering and than elevating one eyelid and rotating his head slightly to one side, he indicated that trepidation on my part was groundless.
Without utterance and with dispatch, he commenced filling the aforementioned appended hosiery with various of the aforementioned articles of merchandise extracted from the aforementioned previously dorsally transported cloth receptacle. Upon completion of this task, he executed an abrupt about-face, placed a single manual digit in lateral juxtaposition to his olfactory organ, inclined his cranium forward in a gesture of leave-taking, and forthwith effected his egress by renegotiating (in reverse) the smoke passage.
He then propelled himself in a short vector onto his conveyance, directed a musical expulsion of air through his contracted oral sphincter to the antlered quadrupeds of burden, and proceeded to soar aloft in a movement hitherto observable chiefly among the seed-bearing portions of a common weed. But I overheard his parting exclamation, audible immediately prior to his vehiculation beyond the limits of visibility: "Ecstatic Yuletide to the planetary constituency, and to that self same assemblage, my sincerest wishes for a salubriously beneficial and gratifyingly pleasurable period between sunset and dawn.”
Sunday, December 16, 2012
The... Politically Correct Christmas
Or how to suck the fun out of Christmas... and have a suitable moral at the end.
Number Five
'Twas the night before Christmas and Santa's a wreck...
How to live in a world that's politically correct?
His workers no longer would answer to "Elves,"
"Vertically Challenged" they were calling themselves.
And labor conditions at the north pole
Were alleged by the union to stifle the soul.
Four reindeer had vanished, without much propriety,
Released to the wilds by the Humane Society.
And equal employment had made it quite clear
That Santa had better not use just reindeer.
So Dancer and Donner, Comet and Cupid,
Were replaced with 4 pigs, and you know that looked stupid!
The runners had been removed from his sleigh;
The ruts were termed dangerous by the E.P.A.
And people had started to call for the cops
When they heard sled noises on their roof-tops.
Second-hand smoke from his pipe had his workers quite frightened.
His fur-trimmed red suit was called "Unenlightened."
And to show you the strangeness of life's ebbs and flows,
Rudolf was suing over unauthorized use of his nose
And had gone on Geraldo, in front of the nation,
Demanding millions in over-due compensation.
So, half of the reindeer were gone; and his wife,
Who suddenly said she'd enough of this life,
Joined a self-help group, packed, and left in a whiz,
Demanding from now on her title was Ms.
And as for the gifts, why, he'd ne'er had a notion
That making a choice could cause so much commotion.
Nothing of leather, nothing of fur,
Which meant nothing for him. And nothing for her.
Nothing that might be construed to pollute.
Nothing to aim. Nothing to shoot.
Nothing that clamored or made lots of noise.
Nothing for just girls. Or just for the boys.
Nothing that claimed to be gender specific.
Nothing that's war-like or non-pacific.
No candy or sweets...they were bad for the tooth.
Nothing that seemed to embellish a truth.
And fairy tales, while not yet forbidden,
Were like Ken and Barbie, better off hidden.
For they raised the hackles of those psychological
Who claimed the only good gift was one ecological.
No baseball, no football...someone could get hurt;
Besides, playing sports exposed kids to dirt.
Dolls were said to be sexist, and should be passe;
And Nintendo would rot your entire brain away.
So Santa just stood there, disheveled, perplexed;
He just could not figure out what to do next.
He tried to be merry, tried to be gay,
But you've got to be careful with that word today.
His sack was quite empty, limp to the ground;
Nothing fully acceptable was to be found.
Something special was needed, a gift that he might
Give to all without angering the left or the right.
A gift that would satisfy, with no indecision,
Each group of people, every religion;
Every ethnicity, every hue,
Everyone, everywhere...even you.
So here is that gift, its price beyond worth...
"May you and your loved ones enjoy peace on earth."
(c) Harvey Ehrlich, 1992
Number Five
'Twas the night before Christmas and Santa's a wreck...
How to live in a world that's politically correct?
His workers no longer would answer to "Elves,"
"Vertically Challenged" they were calling themselves.
And labor conditions at the north pole
Were alleged by the union to stifle the soul.
Four reindeer had vanished, without much propriety,
Released to the wilds by the Humane Society.
And equal employment had made it quite clear
That Santa had better not use just reindeer.
So Dancer and Donner, Comet and Cupid,
Were replaced with 4 pigs, and you know that looked stupid!
The runners had been removed from his sleigh;
The ruts were termed dangerous by the E.P.A.
And people had started to call for the cops
When they heard sled noises on their roof-tops.
Second-hand smoke from his pipe had his workers quite frightened.
His fur-trimmed red suit was called "Unenlightened."
And to show you the strangeness of life's ebbs and flows,
Rudolf was suing over unauthorized use of his nose
And had gone on Geraldo, in front of the nation,
Demanding millions in over-due compensation.
So, half of the reindeer were gone; and his wife,
Who suddenly said she'd enough of this life,
Joined a self-help group, packed, and left in a whiz,
Demanding from now on her title was Ms.
And as for the gifts, why, he'd ne'er had a notion
That making a choice could cause so much commotion.
Nothing of leather, nothing of fur,
Which meant nothing for him. And nothing for her.
Nothing that might be construed to pollute.
Nothing to aim. Nothing to shoot.
Nothing that clamored or made lots of noise.
Nothing for just girls. Or just for the boys.
Nothing that claimed to be gender specific.
Nothing that's war-like or non-pacific.
No candy or sweets...they were bad for the tooth.
Nothing that seemed to embellish a truth.
And fairy tales, while not yet forbidden,
Were like Ken and Barbie, better off hidden.
For they raised the hackles of those psychological
Who claimed the only good gift was one ecological.
No baseball, no football...someone could get hurt;
Besides, playing sports exposed kids to dirt.
Dolls were said to be sexist, and should be passe;
And Nintendo would rot your entire brain away.
So Santa just stood there, disheveled, perplexed;
He just could not figure out what to do next.
He tried to be merry, tried to be gay,
But you've got to be careful with that word today.
His sack was quite empty, limp to the ground;
Nothing fully acceptable was to be found.
Something special was needed, a gift that he might
Give to all without angering the left or the right.
A gift that would satisfy, with no indecision,
Each group of people, every religion;
Every ethnicity, every hue,
Everyone, everywhere...even you.
So here is that gift, its price beyond worth...
"May you and your loved ones enjoy peace on earth."
(c) Harvey Ehrlich, 1992
Saturday, December 15, 2012
Jingle Bells - The Ozzie Way
It gets hot here, damn hot. So while the northern hemisphere freezes during the Christmas season, we down in the southern hemisphere are lazing by the pool or at the beach trying to cool off.
Needless to say 'dashing through the snow' brings the occasional lip curl from we Aussies.
Australians being Australians, we came up with our own version of 'Jingle Bells':
Dashing through the bush in a rusty Holden ute,
Kicking up the dust, Esky in the boot,
Kelpie by my side, singing Christmas songs,
It's summer time and I am in my singlet, shorts and thongs.
Oh! Jingle bells, jingle bells jingle all the way,
Christmas in Australia on a scorching summer's day,
Oh! Jingle bells, jingle bells, Christmas time is beaut,
Oh what fun it is to ride in a dusty Holden ute.
Engine's getting hot, we dodge the kangaroos,
The swaggie climbs aboard, he is welcome too.
All the family is there, sitting by the pool,
Christmas day in the Aussie way, by the Bar-b-cue. Oh!
Oh! Jingle bells, jingle bells jingle all the way,
Christmas in Australia on a scorching summer's day,
Oh! Jingle bells, jingle bells, Christmas time is beaut,
Oh what fun it is to ride in a dusty Holden ute.
Come the afternoon grandpa has a doze,
The kids and Uncle Bruce are swimming in their clothes,
The time comes round to go, we take a family snap,
And pack the car and all shoot through Before the washing up. Oh!
Oh! Jingle bells, jingle bells jingle all the way,
Christmas in Australia on a scorching summer's day,
Oh! Jingle bells, jingle bells, Christmas time is beaut,
Oh what fun it is to ride in a dusty Holden ute.
Needless to say 'dashing through the snow' brings the occasional lip curl from we Aussies.
Australians being Australians, we came up with our own version of 'Jingle Bells':
Dashing through the bush in a rusty Holden ute,
Kicking up the dust, Esky in the boot,
Kelpie by my side, singing Christmas songs,
It's summer time and I am in my singlet, shorts and thongs.
Oh! Jingle bells, jingle bells jingle all the way,
Christmas in Australia on a scorching summer's day,
Oh! Jingle bells, jingle bells, Christmas time is beaut,
Oh what fun it is to ride in a dusty Holden ute.
Engine's getting hot, we dodge the kangaroos,
The swaggie climbs aboard, he is welcome too.
All the family is there, sitting by the pool,
Christmas day in the Aussie way, by the Bar-b-cue. Oh!
Oh! Jingle bells, jingle bells jingle all the way,
Christmas in Australia on a scorching summer's day,
Oh! Jingle bells, jingle bells, Christmas time is beaut,
Oh what fun it is to ride in a dusty Holden ute.
Come the afternoon grandpa has a doze,
The kids and Uncle Bruce are swimming in their clothes,
The time comes round to go, we take a family snap,
And pack the car and all shoot through Before the washing up. Oh!
Oh! Jingle bells, jingle bells jingle all the way,
Christmas in Australia on a scorching summer's day,
Oh! Jingle bells, jingle bells, Christmas time is beaut,
Oh what fun it is to ride in a dusty Holden ute.
Santa's Replacement: Bubba Claus
Here's a question: if the Mayan calendar ends on the 21st December, does that mean the apocalypse will start at the International Date Line and work it's way around the world or is this a simple mass extinction event and it will be the 22nd for some of us as the clock runs out in Maya-land?
Huh. And why am I spending buckets of money on prezzos if we're doomed?
Number Three:
To: Southern USA Residents
From: Santa
RE: Replacement Santa
I regret to inform you that effective immediately, I will no longer be able to serve the Southern United States on Christmas Eve. Due to overwhelming current population of the earth, my contract was renegotiated by North American Fairies and Elves Local 209. I now serve only certain areas of Ohio, Indiana, Illinois, Wisconsin and Michigan. As part of the new and better contract I also get longer breaks for milk and cookies so keep that in mind. However, I'm certain that your children will be in good hands with your local replacement who happens to be my third cousin, Bubba Claus. His side of the family in from the South pole. He shares my goal of delivering toys to all the good boys and girls; however, there are a few differences between us. Differences such as:
1. There is no danger of a Grinch stealing your presents from Bubba Claus. He has a gun rack on his sleigh and a bumper sticker that reads: "These toys insured by Smith & Wesson."
2. Instead of milk and cookies, Bubba Claus prefers that children leave a RC Cola and pork rinds (or a moon pie) on the fireplace. And Bubba doesn't smoke a pipe. He dips a little snuff though, so please have an empty spit can handy.
3. Bubba Claus' sleigh is pulled by floppy-eared, flyin' coon dogs instead of reindeer. I made the mistake of loaning him a couple of my reindeer one time, and Blitzen's head now overlooks Bubba's fireplace.
4. You won't hear "On Comet, on Cupid, on Donner and Blitzen..." when Bubba Claus arrives. Instead you'll hear, "On Earnhardt, on Wallace, on Martin and LaBonte. On Rudd, on Jarrett, on Elliot and Petty."
5. "Ho, ho, ho!" has been replaced by "Yee Haw!" And you also are likely to hear Bubba's elves reply, "I her'd dat!"
6. As required by Southern highway laws, Bubba Claus' sleigh does have a Yosemite Sam safety triangle on the back with the words, "Back Off!" The last I heard it also had other decorations on the sleigh back as well. One is Ford or Chevy logo with lights that race through the letters and the other is a caricature of me (Santa Claus) peeing on the Tooth Fairy.
7. The usual Christmas movie classics such as "Miracle on 34th Street" and "It's a Wonderful Life" will not be shown in your negotiated viewing area. Instead, you will see "Boss Hogg Saves Christmas" and "Smokey and the Bandit IV" featuring Burt Reynolds as Bubba Claus and dozens of State Patrol cars crashing into each other.
8. Bubba Claus doesn't wear a belt. If I were you, I'd make sure you, the wife, and the kids turn the other way when he bends over to put presents under the tree.
9. And finally, lovely Christmas songs have been sung about me like "Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer" and Bing Crosby's "Santa Claus Is Coming To Town". This year, songs about Bubba Claus will be played on all the AM radio stations in the South. These song titles will be Mark Chesnutt's "Bubba Claus shot the jukebox"; Cledus T. Judd's, "All I want for Christmas is my Woman and a Six-pack", and Hank Williams Jr's "If You Don't Like Bubba Claus,You Shove It."
Sincerely Yours,
Santa Claus (Member of North American Fairies and Elves Local 209)
Huh. And why am I spending buckets of money on prezzos if we're doomed?
Number Three:
To: Southern USA Residents
From: Santa
RE: Replacement Santa
I regret to inform you that effective immediately, I will no longer be able to serve the Southern United States on Christmas Eve. Due to overwhelming current population of the earth, my contract was renegotiated by North American Fairies and Elves Local 209. I now serve only certain areas of Ohio, Indiana, Illinois, Wisconsin and Michigan. As part of the new and better contract I also get longer breaks for milk and cookies so keep that in mind. However, I'm certain that your children will be in good hands with your local replacement who happens to be my third cousin, Bubba Claus. His side of the family in from the South pole. He shares my goal of delivering toys to all the good boys and girls; however, there are a few differences between us. Differences such as:
1. There is no danger of a Grinch stealing your presents from Bubba Claus. He has a gun rack on his sleigh and a bumper sticker that reads: "These toys insured by Smith & Wesson."
2. Instead of milk and cookies, Bubba Claus prefers that children leave a RC Cola and pork rinds (or a moon pie) on the fireplace. And Bubba doesn't smoke a pipe. He dips a little snuff though, so please have an empty spit can handy.
3. Bubba Claus' sleigh is pulled by floppy-eared, flyin' coon dogs instead of reindeer. I made the mistake of loaning him a couple of my reindeer one time, and Blitzen's head now overlooks Bubba's fireplace.
4. You won't hear "On Comet, on Cupid, on Donner and Blitzen..." when Bubba Claus arrives. Instead you'll hear, "On Earnhardt, on Wallace, on Martin and LaBonte. On Rudd, on Jarrett, on Elliot and Petty."
5. "Ho, ho, ho!" has been replaced by "Yee Haw!" And you also are likely to hear Bubba's elves reply, "I her'd dat!"
6. As required by Southern highway laws, Bubba Claus' sleigh does have a Yosemite Sam safety triangle on the back with the words, "Back Off!" The last I heard it also had other decorations on the sleigh back as well. One is Ford or Chevy logo with lights that race through the letters and the other is a caricature of me (Santa Claus) peeing on the Tooth Fairy.
7. The usual Christmas movie classics such as "Miracle on 34th Street" and "It's a Wonderful Life" will not be shown in your negotiated viewing area. Instead, you will see "Boss Hogg Saves Christmas" and "Smokey and the Bandit IV" featuring Burt Reynolds as Bubba Claus and dozens of State Patrol cars crashing into each other.
8. Bubba Claus doesn't wear a belt. If I were you, I'd make sure you, the wife, and the kids turn the other way when he bends over to put presents under the tree.
9. And finally, lovely Christmas songs have been sung about me like "Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer" and Bing Crosby's "Santa Claus Is Coming To Town". This year, songs about Bubba Claus will be played on all the AM radio stations in the South. These song titles will be Mark Chesnutt's "Bubba Claus shot the jukebox"; Cledus T. Judd's, "All I want for Christmas is my Woman and a Six-pack", and Hank Williams Jr's "If You Don't Like Bubba Claus,You Shove It."
Sincerely Yours,
Santa Claus (Member of North American Fairies and Elves Local 209)
Thursday, December 13, 2012
Christmas Corporate Memo
One day closer to Christmas... or the Apocalypse.
So here's number two:
To: All Staff Date:
December 1
Subject: New "Twelve Days of Christmas" Policy
The recent announcement that Donner and Blitzen have elected to take the early reindeer retirement package has triggered a good deal of concern about whether they will be replaced, and about other restructuring decisions at the North Pole.
Streamlining is due to the North Pole's loss of dominance in the season's gift distribution business. Home Shopping TV channels and mail order catalogues have diminished Santa's market share. He and the Board could not sit idly by and permit further erosion of the profit picture.
The reindeer downsizing was made possible through purchase of a late model Japanese sled for the CEO's annual trip. Improved productivity from Dasher and Dancer, who summered at the Harvard Business School, is anticipated. Reduction in the reindeer will also lessen airborne environmental emissions for which the North Pole has received unfavorable press (gas and solid waste).
We're pleased to inform you that Rudolph's role will not be disturbed. Tradition still counts for something at the North Pole!
Management denies, in the strongest possible language, the earlier leak that Rudolph's nose get red, not from the cold, but from substance abuse. Calling Rudolph "a lush who was into the sauce and never did pull his share of the load" was an unfortunate comment, made by one of Santa's helpers and taken out of context at a time of the year when they are known to be under 'executive tress'.
As for further restructuring, today's global challenges require the North Pole to continue to look for better, more competitive steps. Effective immediately, the following economy measures are to take place in the "Twelve Days of Christmas" music subsidiary:
1) The partridge will be retained, but the pear tree, which never produced the cash crop forecasted, will be replaced by a plastic hanging plant, providing considerable savings in maintenance;
2) Two turtle doves represent a redundancy that is simply not cost effective. In addition, their romance during working hours could not be condoned. The positions are, therefore, eliminated;
3) The three French hens will remain intact. After all, everyone loves the French;
4) The four calling birds will be replaced by an automated voice mail system, with a call waiting option. An analysis is underway to determine who the birds have been calling, how often and how long they talked;
5) The five golden rings have been put on hold by the Board of Directors. Maintaining a portfolio based on one commodity could have negative implications for institutional investors. Diversification into other precious metals, as well as a mix of T-Bills and high technology stocks, appear to be in order;
6) The six geese-a-laying constitutes a luxury which can no longer be afforded. It has long been felt that the production rate of one egg per goose per day was an example of the general decline in productivity. Three geese will be let go, and an upgrading in the selection procedure by personnel will assure management that, from now on, every goose it gets will be a good one;
7) The seven swans-a-swimming is obviously a number chosen in better times. The function is primarily decorative. Mechanical swans are on order. The current swans will be retrained to learn some new strokes, thereby enhancing their outplacement;
8) As you know, the eight maids-a-milking concept has been under heavy scrutiny by the EEOC. A male/female balance in the workforce is being sought. The more militant maids consider this a dead-end job with no upward mobility. Automation of the process may permit the maids to try a-mending, a-mentoring or a-mulching;
9) Nine ladies dancing has always been an odd number. This function will be phased out as these individuals grow older and can no longer do the steps;
10) Ten Lords-a-leaping is overkill. The high cost of Lords, plus the expense of international air travel, prompted the Compensation Committee to suggest replacing this group with ten out-of-work congressmen. While leaping ability may be somewhat sacrificed, the savings are significant as we expect an oversupply of unemployed congressmen this year;
11) Eleven pipers piping and twelve drummers drumming is a simple case of the band getting too big. A substitution with a string quartet, a cutback on new music, and no uniforms, will produce savings which will drop right to the bottom line;
Overall we can expect a substantial reduction in assorted people, fowl, animals and related expenses. Though incomplete, studies indicate that stretching deliveries over twelve days is inefficient. If we can drop ship in one day, service levels will be improved.
Regarding the lawsuit filed by the attorney's association seeking expansion to include the legal profession ("thirteen lawyers-a-suing"), a decision is pending.
Deeper cuts may be necessary in the future to remain competitive. Should that happen, the Board will request management to scrutinize the Snow White Division to see if seven dwarfs is the right number.
Happy Holidays all!!
To: All Staff Date:
December 1
Subject: New "Twelve Days of Christmas" Policy
The recent announcement that Donner and Blitzen have elected to take the early reindeer retirement package has triggered a good deal of concern about whether they will be replaced, and about other restructuring decisions at the North Pole.
Streamlining is due to the North Pole's loss of dominance in the season's gift distribution business. Home Shopping TV channels and mail order catalogues have diminished Santa's market share. He and the Board could not sit idly by and permit further erosion of the profit picture.
The reindeer downsizing was made possible through purchase of a late model Japanese sled for the CEO's annual trip. Improved productivity from Dasher and Dancer, who summered at the Harvard Business School, is anticipated. Reduction in the reindeer will also lessen airborne environmental emissions for which the North Pole has received unfavorable press (gas and solid waste).
We're pleased to inform you that Rudolph's role will not be disturbed. Tradition still counts for something at the North Pole!
Management denies, in the strongest possible language, the earlier leak that Rudolph's nose get red, not from the cold, but from substance abuse. Calling Rudolph "a lush who was into the sauce and never did pull his share of the load" was an unfortunate comment, made by one of Santa's helpers and taken out of context at a time of the year when they are known to be under 'executive tress'.
As for further restructuring, today's global challenges require the North Pole to continue to look for better, more competitive steps. Effective immediately, the following economy measures are to take place in the "Twelve Days of Christmas" music subsidiary:
1) The partridge will be retained, but the pear tree, which never produced the cash crop forecasted, will be replaced by a plastic hanging plant, providing considerable savings in maintenance;
2) Two turtle doves represent a redundancy that is simply not cost effective. In addition, their romance during working hours could not be condoned. The positions are, therefore, eliminated;
3) The three French hens will remain intact. After all, everyone loves the French;
4) The four calling birds will be replaced by an automated voice mail system, with a call waiting option. An analysis is underway to determine who the birds have been calling, how often and how long they talked;
5) The five golden rings have been put on hold by the Board of Directors. Maintaining a portfolio based on one commodity could have negative implications for institutional investors. Diversification into other precious metals, as well as a mix of T-Bills and high technology stocks, appear to be in order;
6) The six geese-a-laying constitutes a luxury which can no longer be afforded. It has long been felt that the production rate of one egg per goose per day was an example of the general decline in productivity. Three geese will be let go, and an upgrading in the selection procedure by personnel will assure management that, from now on, every goose it gets will be a good one;
7) The seven swans-a-swimming is obviously a number chosen in better times. The function is primarily decorative. Mechanical swans are on order. The current swans will be retrained to learn some new strokes, thereby enhancing their outplacement;
8) As you know, the eight maids-a-milking concept has been under heavy scrutiny by the EEOC. A male/female balance in the workforce is being sought. The more militant maids consider this a dead-end job with no upward mobility. Automation of the process may permit the maids to try a-mending, a-mentoring or a-mulching;
9) Nine ladies dancing has always been an odd number. This function will be phased out as these individuals grow older and can no longer do the steps;
10) Ten Lords-a-leaping is overkill. The high cost of Lords, plus the expense of international air travel, prompted the Compensation Committee to suggest replacing this group with ten out-of-work congressmen. While leaping ability may be somewhat sacrificed, the savings are significant as we expect an oversupply of unemployed congressmen this year;
11) Eleven pipers piping and twelve drummers drumming is a simple case of the band getting too big. A substitution with a string quartet, a cutback on new music, and no uniforms, will produce savings which will drop right to the bottom line;
Overall we can expect a substantial reduction in assorted people, fowl, animals and related expenses. Though incomplete, studies indicate that stretching deliveries over twelve days is inefficient. If we can drop ship in one day, service levels will be improved.
Regarding the lawsuit filed by the attorney's association seeking expansion to include the legal profession ("thirteen lawyers-a-suing"), a decision is pending.
Deeper cuts may be necessary in the future to remain competitive. Should that happen, the Board will request management to scrutinize the Snow White Division to see if seven dwarfs is the right number.
Happy Holidays all!!
Wednesday, December 12, 2012
12 12 12 and 12
It's twelve, twelve, twelve with twelve days to Christmas Eve.
So, since I've finished my Christmas shopping, twelve... written pieces shall I post, one every day. (Unless, of course, we all die in an apocalyptic inferno on 21 December, in which case, I probably won't be posting the rest.)
Number One:
The Unknown Reindeer
The game show contestant was only 200 points behind the leader and about to answer the final question - worth 500 points!
"To be today's champion," the show's smiling host intoned, "name two of Santa's reindeer."
The contestant, a man in his early thirties, gave a sigh of relief, gratified that he had drawn such an easy question. "Rudolph!" he said confidently, "and, ...Olive!"
The studio audience started to applaud (like the little sign above their heads said to do,) but the clapping quickly faded into mumbling, and the confused host replied, "Yes, we'll accept Rudolph, but could you please explain... 'Olive?!?'"
"You know," the man circled his hand forward impatiently and began to sing, "Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer - had a very shiny nose. And if you ever saw it, you would even say it glowed. *Olive,* the other reindeer..."
So, since I've finished my Christmas shopping, twelve... written pieces shall I post, one every day. (Unless, of course, we all die in an apocalyptic inferno on 21 December, in which case, I probably won't be posting the rest.)
Number One:
The Unknown Reindeer
The game show contestant was only 200 points behind the leader and about to answer the final question - worth 500 points!
"To be today's champion," the show's smiling host intoned, "name two of Santa's reindeer."
The contestant, a man in his early thirties, gave a sigh of relief, gratified that he had drawn such an easy question. "Rudolph!" he said confidently, "and, ...Olive!"
The studio audience started to applaud (like the little sign above their heads said to do,) but the clapping quickly faded into mumbling, and the confused host replied, "Yes, we'll accept Rudolph, but could you please explain... 'Olive?!?'"
"You know," the man circled his hand forward impatiently and began to sing, "Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer - had a very shiny nose. And if you ever saw it, you would even say it glowed. *Olive,* the other reindeer..."
Saturday, November 03, 2012
Linkages
Some interesting sites for those taking up the challenge of Nano:
Nano Bootcamp
The Only Writing Rules you'll ever need
I'm sure there'll be more, but I'm werking here!
Nano Bootcamp
The Only Writing Rules you'll ever need
I'm sure there'll be more, but I'm werking here!
Tempus Fugit
How is it that this year is passing in a blur?
I seem to be dashing from one thing to another, trying to accomplish stuff that needs to be done. (I blame working in an office in an environment where budget cuts have been extreme. Let me just say that the department I work for should not be used by the government as an ATM when they want to fulfill a lunatic promise. I was not employed to do the work of two and a half people; my own job keeps me occupied for long enough thank you.)
Okay, political bit finished.
It is day three of Nano. The first two days have been a struggle. Actually finding time to write has been near impossible, and midnight? Pfft! The damn day turned over and cut me off from finishing that day's word count.
Fortunately, it is now the weekend and I went off to a write-in, the first I've ever been to. I'm not saying it wasn't fun, but was interesting.
(Note: to certain people - bathing is not an option, it's essential when interacting with a reasonably large group squashed into a cafe. I'm just saying.)
So. I arrived rather cranky because of all the stuff I had to do, all the interruptions. Writers, it should also be noted, do not like real life interfering in the creative process - and November is when we are short on patience and long on frustration.
I guess I'm off to a reasonable start. I've caught up on the two days of miserable performance and a good shot of Sarah Brightman has soothed the inner Snarly.
Time for more words.
I seem to be dashing from one thing to another, trying to accomplish stuff that needs to be done. (I blame working in an office in an environment where budget cuts have been extreme. Let me just say that the department I work for should not be used by the government as an ATM when they want to fulfill a lunatic promise. I was not employed to do the work of two and a half people; my own job keeps me occupied for long enough thank you.)
Okay, political bit finished.
It is day three of Nano. The first two days have been a struggle. Actually finding time to write has been near impossible, and midnight? Pfft! The damn day turned over and cut me off from finishing that day's word count.
Fortunately, it is now the weekend and I went off to a write-in, the first I've ever been to. I'm not saying it wasn't fun, but was interesting.
(Note: to certain people - bathing is not an option, it's essential when interacting with a reasonably large group squashed into a cafe. I'm just saying.)
So. I arrived rather cranky because of all the stuff I had to do, all the interruptions. Writers, it should also be noted, do not like real life interfering in the creative process - and November is when we are short on patience and long on frustration.
I guess I'm off to a reasonable start. I've caught up on the two days of miserable performance and a good shot of Sarah Brightman has soothed the inner Snarly.
Time for more words.
Monday, October 08, 2012
Deja Vu all over again
Nano is looming large on the horizon and so is a feeling of deja vu.
I'm set to move house again... in November, just like last year. Seems the landlady isn't above raising an already high rent even higher. It's a game I'm not willing to play. The place was empty for about nine months when I moved in, it can be empty again for equally as long for all I care.
Of course, the annoyance is finding new digs and then shifting the parent again. I really, really don't need the stress but life has a way of throwing curve balls when you least expect it.
What's interesting is the fear that this year, I'll not be able to complete Nano. I am time poor. The new job doesn't allow for any goofing off, the internet at work is restricted - no private email and no forums - and no personal computers allowed. With the current... budget constraints, there is a staffing freeze on, so my colleague who left last month isn't going to be replaced. That leaves two of us to do the work of three at a professional level and me to still deal with the admin work. The learning curve is steep, regardless of how much I enjoy the work.
As a challenge, 2012 Nano is right up there. I have no ideas, not even hints, bubbling away. There is nothing - which is new for me - in the ideas cache. Zip. Nada. Zero. It's as if the Universe is saying 'not this time, you have other business'. Or it's presenting a challenge, testing my resolve to be a writer.
I recall way back when I first did Nano that I had nothing right up until the 1st of November. What came out in December was the first draft of the Huntress series, on which I'm still working - or trying. For all my good intentions on getting writing/editing stuff done, nothing has been accomplished since May.
As I said previously, work and parental care take up nearly all my time.
But I'm not giving up writing. Regardless of what's going on in real life now, writing is what I love doing. Having people read what I write is gravy: rich, thick, flavoursome gravy.
So. Nano. I have my eye on you. Meet me halfway or I'll you down.
I'm set to move house again... in November, just like last year. Seems the landlady isn't above raising an already high rent even higher. It's a game I'm not willing to play. The place was empty for about nine months when I moved in, it can be empty again for equally as long for all I care.
Of course, the annoyance is finding new digs and then shifting the parent again. I really, really don't need the stress but life has a way of throwing curve balls when you least expect it.
What's interesting is the fear that this year, I'll not be able to complete Nano. I am time poor. The new job doesn't allow for any goofing off, the internet at work is restricted - no private email and no forums - and no personal computers allowed. With the current... budget constraints, there is a staffing freeze on, so my colleague who left last month isn't going to be replaced. That leaves two of us to do the work of three at a professional level and me to still deal with the admin work. The learning curve is steep, regardless of how much I enjoy the work.
As a challenge, 2012 Nano is right up there. I have no ideas, not even hints, bubbling away. There is nothing - which is new for me - in the ideas cache. Zip. Nada. Zero. It's as if the Universe is saying 'not this time, you have other business'. Or it's presenting a challenge, testing my resolve to be a writer.
I recall way back when I first did Nano that I had nothing right up until the 1st of November. What came out in December was the first draft of the Huntress series, on which I'm still working - or trying. For all my good intentions on getting writing/editing stuff done, nothing has been accomplished since May.
As I said previously, work and parental care take up nearly all my time.
But I'm not giving up writing. Regardless of what's going on in real life now, writing is what I love doing. Having people read what I write is gravy: rich, thick, flavoursome gravy.
So. Nano. I have my eye on you. Meet me halfway or I'll you down.
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