Humidity

5 08 2014

humid-pic-300x230Ah, you’ve gotta love the Maritimes when they decide to get hot.

On the one hand, my hair looks fabulous. Curly hair + product + humidity = delectable curls.

On the other, I want to cut it all off and let the air cross my fevered skull. I pin it up maliciously and tear it out when the bobby pins have clung too strongly.

Worst thing is my brain goes into park in heat and humidity. I gaze about myself, mouth-breathing, slack-jawed, not a creative cell in my entire little grey collection.

It’s a good job I only really have one deadline to think about – a writing one that I want to do. And one that I’ve already begun, so the words I have to write can be pulled out of the already connected synapses up in my grey fog.

But I know if this humidity doesn’t break soon, I’m going to snap, like theĀ French do during le vent d’autan

Although for my part, a good wind would be appreciated. Right now it’s like living in a dirty damp dishrag. My sheets are wet, my carpet is almost squishy, my cat is morbidly depressed. There’s a persistent feeling of mould.

And even though my delectable curls will become a Phyllis-Dillerish mass, I can’t wait for the rain to collect the humidity and bring it to the ground.

Maybe then my brain will wake up and I’ll be able to think…

humidity-blah

excellent drawing by Kate Elizabeth Queram

 

 

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The Power of Percolation

22 10 2012

 

The Power of Percolation.

Blog from author Pam Callow, one of the sweetest people I’ve met, and one who writes gruesome (and wonderfully good) thrillers.

I could really identify with the concept of percolation she mentions – I know my friend Tim often wonders what is going on in my head as days pass with me doing nothing but staring into the middle distance or cooking soups or rug hooking or whatever. Then it’s like a blister bursting (sorry, nurse here) – the story comes out in one flow for the rough draft and I can’t stop it for love nor money. Then I go about with glazed eyes for another reason.

I remember my ex remarking uncharitably about how I could possibly just sit down and write my Master’s thesis in 10 days while he toiled on his thesis. I did almost get a distinction on it, too! The thing was I was percolating it in my head.

Of course sometimes the percolation comes up to deadlines and then panic sets in…Like now…

But first, some coffee, and the ingredient Pam doesn’t mention – chocolate!

Gotta run…








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