September Sweeps - Day 586

Okay, let's finish this sucker today.  I believe I mentioned last night that I was ninety-nine percent done with "When You Need It Most," which you may think--perhaps rightly--is an awful title.  But wait till you read the book.  Its awfulness may far outshine that of its title, kids.

I woke up incredibly early today (like Marshal Latham or Count Dracula early).  It was dark, but there was the hint of light in the east, so I simply went back to sleep.  An hour or so later, I woke again, and the sun was now appearing over the hills and trees, the cabin a eerie orange color.  I went back to sleep.  The next time I woke, the sun was higher in the sky, still more than an hour before my alarm would go off.  I got up, ate a donut, edited some audio, and found my stomach aching (some kind of unpleasant cramping), so I laid down again and read my bo . . . and I slept.

My alarm went off, and I snoozed it, and ended up getting up--for real this time--later than I would on a normal day.  But ah well.  At least I'll be taking no naps this afternoon (though you never know).

The first thing I knew I had to do was to clean up the mess I'd left outside (once again, be warned).  I put on my shoes, grabbed a pair of gloves, and went out to the woods to dig a hole.  It had to be much bigger than the holes I put squirrels or woodchucks in, and it took a little while to dig a three foot hole that was two feet deep.

I went back to the house, afraid of what I'd find.  But the animal was indeed dead, seeming much less vicious now, though I took a picture of its claws, which are formidible.*  I hefted the trap with the badger in it and carried it into the woods, and was amazed by how much it weighed--I was lugging fifty pounds here!  I opened the trap and the large animal tumbled out into the grave, and it stuck out on the side--I hadn't dug it deep enough.

I buried the animal, and then took the trap to wash off in front of the cabin.  To my surprise, the big metal contraption still weighed twenty-five pounds or so, so the badger hadn't been quite as gargantuan as I'd imagined (I had had this idea yesterday of using a broomstick to move the trap out into the sun, not quite daring to pick it up with a vicious animal inside, but I might not have been able to manage that, despite doing an unholy number of push-ups every other day).  

I washed the trap as best I could, then filled some buckets and went back to where the trap had been and tried to clean up the mess I'd made.  It took four buckets full of water, but there was still blood visible in the puddle I'd created, slowly sinking into the gravel there.  

I guess it's going to be useful information, for the next time I write about killing somebody.

Sit-ups Today: 111
Sit-ups In September: 1016

Well, I spent most of the day--wasted most of the day, my father would've said--reading, finishing one book and starting another.  I also recorded an old Ambrose Bierce story, and am leaning toward recording one more, before it starts getting late enough to pack up my stuff and head back in a northerly direction.

As far as writing goes . . . so far, I have twenty-three words for the day.  A part of me doesn't want to write the last bit of my book, because it's going to be the end of the road for our weary travelers, and the company has been--though frustrating at times--pretty fine.  As soon as I'm done, I'll get to work on publishing stuff.  First up needs to be the one-two punch of "Meet the New Clerk" and "The Last Friday In December," both of which are ready to go (except for recording the author's note on the latter), lacking only the cover art.  

This may or may not be the last time I see my friend Lara Demming for a while.  She's a character who is dear to me, whose defining characteristic (in my mind) is not that she's particular smart or beautiful, but that she's good.  I dropped a couple of details about her past in this story--which takes place her last year of high school--such as a scar on her leg and having taken a human life, which will hopefully have me returning to her before too long to figure out the story/ies behind them.  

It would be nice if, the next time I write about her, I'm not the only one curious what's been going on with her.

Push-ups Today: 66
Push-ups In September: 1161

Well . . . I could have finished the book today, if I really wanted to.  But I must not have wanted to, because I started on the last scene, wrote half of it, and called it a day.  Self-destructive much?

Words Today: 288 (not a lot, I know.  It must be psychological)
Words In September: 8189

*It had been much easier to shoot the creature last night when it was snarling and hissing at me, a little like the way Old Yeller went in the end: "That's not your dog anymore, Arliss."

September Sweeps - Day 585

I nearly didn't come to the cabin today.  I was here for the weekend, and felt, I dunno, lazy or indolent or something to return after two days.  But it occurred to me a little while ago that I won't be able to come next week, because there's a convention out of town (the first since the pandemic), so it's a good thing I'm here.

My mom had left me a list of chores to do every time I came to the cabin, and one of them was to take the remaining pile of gravel beside the house and spread it out in wheelbarrows along the driveway.  The next door neighbors had done so a couple of weeks back, but they'd used a machine to spread it.

I only managed five wheelbarrows full of gravel, but it was so darn hard to wheel them down the hill without it rolling out of control that even five was an accomplishment.  If I do five every time I visit, I'll have the whole driveway completely done by, say, January (despite November being when we close everything up for the year).

Sit-ups Today: 100
Sit-ups In September: 905

On Monday, I had my oldest nephew re-bait all of the traps around the property because I hadn't been able to catch anything with the stale peanuts I loaded them up with (in fact, my brother moved one of the traps, leaving the peanuts on the ground, and they were still there a few days later, the animals deciding to steer well clear of them).  And to my surprise, there was something in the biggest trap waiting for me as I pulled up to the cabin: my friend the badger from a couple of months ago.*

I think I mentioned how pretty an animal I thought it was the last time I saw it, but that its dog-like growling disturbed me.  Well, I still feel the same way, that it's an interesting mix between a rodent and a dog, but when I got near, it raised up its nose and growled, producing a long stream of saliva from its mouth--something I've only ever seen in movies featuring wolves or vicious dogs (slavering, I believe the word is).**  

It was a large animal, between two and three feet long, and shaped unlike any other animal I've encountered, with their wide, flat body and stubby legs more turtle-like than rat-like.  Anyway, I didn't dare get very close, just because I'm a coward, but I did take a couple of pictures, and then decided to drive up to the dam to ask my brother what I should do about it.

See, I figured he was just going to shoot it, but that you could also choose to drag the trap into the sun and see if the heat would kill it (like it does to woodchucks or ground squirrels), or maybe drown it, like we sometimes did to skunks on the farm.  But I also thought that there might be value in leaving the animal undamaged, so that it could be stuffed and displayed, since I've never encountered a badger before, and thought it might make a cool . . . what do you call it, taxidermy trophy.

But my brother said that they're greasy, stinky animals, and it would be like trying to preserve a skunk, and was worried that it would pry up the cage and escape if I just left it there for him to retrieve on Saturday (it occurred to me that I could have dug a hole and buried it alive in the trap, if I didn't have access to a rifle that he keeps at the cabin).  He said, if I wasn't able to shoot it***, that I should put logs on and around the trap so it couldn't get away, and he'd deal with it on the weekend.

Well, the sun was going down (it gets dark earlier every time I come here, sad as that strikes me) while I was talking to him, so I told him I'd take care of it, but I'd better race back before it got too dark to shoot anything.  I did ask him how many shots it was going to take to kill it, and he said, "One, if you get it in the head."

So, hey, skip two paragraphs ahead, if you don't want to read about this bit, okay?  I drove back, but it was already dark by the time I got to the cabin again, and the animal was completely hidden by shadows.  There are no outside lights at the cabin, and I considered just leaving it until tomorrow, but I worried that it would escape during the night, and I'd have let both my brother and myself down.  So I pulled my car up in front of the cabin, turned on the headlights to point toward my prey, and went inside to get the rifle.  I'll not pretend to be tougher than I am: I was a little bit afraid to shoot it, having a delicate constitution, and remembering my brother's botched execution of a skunk a couple of years ago****.  But time was wasting, I chambered a round, walked right up to the trap, and put the barrel inside one of the spaces between the bars.  

The animal, meanwhile, was hunkered down, hissing and drooling, its razor-sharp teeth bared, its eyes black with threat, and I thought, "I'm going to miss, aren't I?  Even this simple task is beyond me."  But I aimed, right above its eyes, steading the weapon, and squeezed the trigger, expecting a deafening blast.  But it was just a POP!, and then, the animal flipped over, like a dog playing dead.  A ghastly noise issued forth from the badger, and a pool of bright-colored Dario Argento blood spread out from beneath it, it shuddered, and went still.

I have to admit that I was disturbed by it, and the experience was something I did not enjoy.  It makes me a bit sickened to describe it here, and most upsettingly, it reminds me of watching my father die.  I went to the car, turned off the lights, and took the rifle back into the cabin.  I'll take care of the corpse tomorrow, since I had no desire to dig a hole in the dark.

Push-ups Today: 217
Push-ups In September: 1095

I had intended to record a piece from a new book of short stories I grabbed from the library today (one which hopefully has normal-sized print in it), but ran out of time.  I did get my lines from the second-to-last episode of "The Deadbringer" audio drama recorded today, though.  I guess I should plug that show better than I have been.

As far as my writing goes, I think I have one more section, or mini-section (like a couple of paragraphs) to write, and I'm done.  That's nice, and I know if I just did a few jumping jacks, I could find the energy to write those paragraphs now, even though it's 2:11am.  But I'm going to go to bed, resting assured that with my book 99% finished, tomorrow will be The Day.  See you then.

Words Today: 592
Words In September: 7901

*My brother had shown me on his motion camera that it had been lurking nearby again, and something that torn open one of the traps to get at the potgut (squirrel) that was inside, so he put two and two together.

**Xenomorphs apparently do this as well, in a strikingly similar, mechanical way.

***There was an implicit criticism in this statement, that I wasn't man enough to kill the animal myself, but that he could do what I couldn't when he came up here.  It didn't insult me--hey, I'm not a macho dude in any way, shape, or form, and have been known to sing Air Supply and Elton John songs with gusto.

****Which I retold almost exactly in "A Sidekick's Errand."

September Sweeps - Day 584

Today was crazy busy.  I still got a few words in, then picked my nephew up from his football practice, then took him to see SHANG-CHI, then took him to get dinner, then took him home, then did some sit-ups, then drove to my cousin's, then watched TV with my cousin, then fell asleep on his couch, then woke up and drove home, and then did some push-ups, then went to sleep.

I'm so very close to finishing my book.  In fact, I typed those greatest words a writer can know, but wasn't quite off the hook, because there's also an epilogue.

Sit-ups Today: 100
Sit-ups In September: 805

Push-ups Today: 55
Push-ups In September: 878

Words Today: 245
Words In September: 7309

September Sweeps - Day 583

Well, this was nearly the day that I broke my writing streak.  In fact, I could stop typing this right now and go to bed, and I'm done.

But I'm sitting here now, and I'm awake, so I might as well type something.

Sit-ups Today: 50
Sit-ups In September: 705

I bought a half gallon of milk the other day to make protein shakes with, and finally opened it tonight, and discovered that it had gone bad.  I took a sip, winced at the gross, bitter taste, then sniffed it.  Yuck.  I checked the expiration date, which was still four days away, and took another sip.  It tasted awful (though not as bad as it smelled).  I ran to the computer to find out what would happen if I drank a whole glass of sour milk (could be vomiting, could be stomach cramps, could be diarrhea, could be an uncontrollable desire to "own the libs"), and made my protein shake anyway, thinking that mix would cover the taste up.

It didn't do so entirely, and though I drank one big swallow, I couldn't manage to drink any more of it, dumping the glass and the carton down the drain.  I waited for the sickness to come, and I started to feel something, but then went to sleep and forgot about it (I think it was just my mind convincing me I was going to get sick, because I never had any ill effects from the, what, quarter glass that I drank.  I guess a real tough cookie would've drank the whole thing down, and then taken a big bite out of the carton for good measure, but that's never been me, and it's too late to start now).

Push-ups Today: 216
Push-ups In September: 823 

Words Today: 489
Words In September: 7064

September Sweeps - Day 582

I stayed another day at the cabin, but not to get work done.  Mostly, it was time spent with the family, and that's fine, but it wasn't a trip to accomplish much.  My brother wasn't here, at least, so we weren't given chores to do.

Today was the day--first time this year--that my nephews and I went looking for frogs and salamanders, something we tend to do every year.  There are tiny little chirping frogs up here by the lake, and they are impossible to keep alive (mostly due to their size and fragility), but there are good-sized salamanders, which are bigger, but still hard to feed.

We caught a bunch of the tiny frogs, which I told my nephew he could use to feed his two remaining big green frogs, but which he was too soft-hearted to do.  We didn't see a single salamander, and I'm not sure that was the case this year.

At one point, while walking through the woods, we saw a huge fallen tree that had landed on--and knocked over--two smaller trees, and was wedged partway up on two other large trees.  I didn't describe it so well, but I took a couple of pictures, and made my nephews climb on top of it (the thirteen year old was worried his weight would make it fall, and I explained that it weighed over a thousand pounds, and his weight wasn't going to make a difference).  

Then, I climbed up myself, and thought it would be fun to walk up it as high as I dared.  But as high as I dared turned out to be about ten feet, as a lot of the bark had fallen off and it was slippery to walk on, and I was afraid of falling off.  Trees are fun, though.* 

As far as writing goes, I didn't even try to match yesterday's productivity, and I don't know that I'd want to.  A guy I know told me that it's good to take a break when you do anything creative, so you can start generating excitement and new ideas again, instead of what I'm currently doing, which is shoveling coal into a train's engine without ever stopping to refill the coal bin.

I'm now, if I had to guess, at about 97% finished with my book.  Maybe only 95, but that's it, the last lap, the home stretch, the final inning, the ultimate sports metaphor.

Sit-up today: 144
Sit-ups In September: 655

At one point, my brother-in-law's older brother came to the cabin with two of his kids and a new daughter-in-law, and my sister realized we didn't have enough food to feed them all (my uncle and his family was also coming up today), so she said she was going to drive down the canyon to the little town to pick up some more food.

We didn't remember it was Sunday, though, and the only grocery store within thirty miles of here is closed on Sundays.  We did find a dollar store in the next town over, though, and loaded up on an unbelievable amount of junk food and candy.

When we were driving back, we had to stop in the middle of the canyon, because a long line of cars were stopped ahead of us.  No vehicles were coming down the opposite way either.  After a couple of minutes, we killed the engine, and noticed that people ahead of us were getting out of their cars and walking around, to stretch their legs, or to go up the hill to see if they could find out what was going on.

About ten or fifteen minutes after that--we hadn't moved an inch, but there was a breeze blowing and Classic Rock on the radio--an ambulance came up the road behind us, followed by a sheriff's truck, both with their lights flashing.  The ambulance drove down soon after.

For more than a half hour the traffic was stopped in both directions, and then the police had each lane take turns going around the wrecked truck and camper that were still blocking one of the lanes.  I didn't believe there were fatalities--the damage to the truck didn't look that terrible to me--but a crash is a crash.  As we were driving away, we could see a red helicopter approaching in the sky, and I assume it came from the hospital.

Push-ups Today: 111
Push-ups In September: 607

In the book I've been writing, I've had in mind that one of the characters gets in a car accident, driving their vehicle off the very road we were stuck on (up ahead, various cars and trucks did three point turns and made their way back down the mountain, deciding to go somewhere else, or maybe make the hour long detour to get up the mountain without going up that particular canyon road).  While I THINK I've described it in this blog, there's a long winding road I take each time I go to the family cabin, and the road is narrow and remarkably close to the edge of a sheer cliff in many places.  

I have often noticed how there's no guardrail, and how easy it would be to simply plunge over the side, and wondered how many accidents there are on it every year (I'd have said fewer than one, since I never saw any in the years I've been coming here--though unless there were skidmarks, it's totally possible a car could drive off the edge, and not be discovered for hours or days [or longer]).

It was disturbingly ironic that today was the day I wrote about that car accident in my book, and it was the first time I'd actually seen an accident on that road (though I did see a vehicle off the side of the road, having just hit a deer just two or three weeks ago).

I've only ever been on the edge of the canyon road once, so I have no pictures (besides this one) of how steep it is.

Later, though, I thought about it, and wondered why they needed a life flight helicopter, when the road allowed an ambulance to go up and down.  And I put the pieces together: why the helicopter, and why there was only one crashed vehicle on the road when we finally drove past.  If they had somehow towed the second vehicle away, or it had driven down on its own . . . that wouldn't explain the helicopter.  No, the most likely thing is that there was only one crashed truck on the road because the other one wasn't on the road at all anymore.  Very dark.

Words Today: 739
Words In September: 6575

*There are uncountable trees up here in the woods, but a great many of them--maybe one in twenty, maybe one in a dozen--are dead.  And when it rains, or the wind blows hard, and especially when it snows--I'll bet--some of those dead trees fall over.  My brother wants to chainsaw a couple more before the season is over, but have me hold onto them or yank them with a rope so they fall someplace safely, instead of across the road or onto the cabin or the shed.  Apparently, chainsaws are fun too.

Big, Rish, & Marshal Talk EWOKS: BFE

Do you miss That Gets My Goat?  Well, Marshal and I corralled Big Anklevich to come on the "Delusions of Grandeur" podcast again, and talk to us about "The Ewoks: Battle For Endor" TV movie.  It was the first time I had seen it since 1985, and I think Big remembered it even less than I did.  Marshal Latham himself had never seen it.

But it was not a bad movie, in my opinion, and the episode of us talking about it, is one of our best.  It took practically forever for me to edit, but it made me laugh more than any other "Delusions" episode we've done.

Check it out HERE . . . but make sure to bring your boob armor.

September Sweeps - Day 581

We got up early this morning (not quite 7:30, but a little while after), loaded up a bed and mattress into my brother's truck, and then I thought I could sneak back to sleep for a little while, because my brother-in-law had been delayed and wasn't home yet.  But I remembered a little song I was going to stick in the next Outcast episode, but had been unable to do so because I edited it at the cabin, where I have no internet.

So instead of snoozing, I found that (awful) song, downloaded it, laid it into the episode (there was just silence where it was supposed to be--if you ever hear silence in one of my shows, it's because I forgot to stick something there), and republished it before anyone was the wiser.  It is out of character for me to choose responsibility over sleep, but I did it twice in a six hour stretch.

You know how a song will be stuck in your head, and you wish you hadn't heard it, for that to happen?  Well, I read an article yesterday (no idea why) that said that Warner Bros. had restored the original Paula Cole song for the opening credits of "Dawson's Creek," after having them unavailable for a decade or so.  While this doesn't matter much to me (I haven't watched the show in almost twenty years, though I do think about it, from time to time), it made me think of Eric Cartman's Dawson's Creek Trapper Keeper on an old "South Park" episode, and can't stop thinking about him singing, "I don't wanna wait, for my Trapper Keeper to be over."

Maybe Dracula was right.  True love never dies.

Sit-ups Today: 50
Sit-ups In September: 511

I didn't manage a lot of push-ups or sit-ups today.  It was a matter of time management, I suppose.  But man, I got a lot of words.  I really focused on this book, and wrote the big climax as best I could, even though I feel like it's too long, and not as powerful as I wanted it to be.  I started on the denouement, or resolution of the story, but didn't finish (I got close, though).

Push-ups Today: 170
Push-ups In September: 496

I did a few push-ups, then snuck back to my computer to jot down a couple lines for the epilogue, which became an entire page.  I feel like it too isn't perfect, but is closer to what I wanted to say when I came up with it . . . which was either yesterday or today, I can't remember which.

All I know is, this has to be the most words I've written in a single day since I was in college, and had to jam everything in for a deadline or due date.  Even then, I'd had to have been pretty dedicated to reach three thousand words.  And I'm not sure I've ever been that dedicated.

Words Today: 3687
Words In September: 5836

September Sweeps - Day 580

I'm at the library, and going to do the bare minimum of words today (like yesterday!).  I'm quite serious about not writing every day in September (it's Goal Number One), but another of my goals (Number Five) is to finish my novel, so I gotta figure out a way to do both.

Sit-ups Today: 100
Sit-ups In September: 461

I went to see SHANG-CHI tonight with my cousin.  It wasn't really one I was looking forward to (the ad campaign, while much better than that of SNAKE EYES, was pretty similar, and I could forgive someone for confusing them), but I felt obligated to Marvel Studios for the countless hours of joy they've given me, so I will go to every one, until the magic is gone.*

I had mostly avoided spoilers (someone said a title character from another movie shows up, someone said it was basically a remake of BLACK PANTHER but with Asians, and someone said it had a nearly perfect Rotten Tomatoes score . . . and the first one ended up being true, but in the most throwaway manner imaginable), and hoped I would enjoy it as much as Marvel Studios' lesser films.  I was worried about Awkwafina, because she tends to be so grating in every role I've seen (like a less endearing Gilbert Godfried) that I feared she'd taint the whole production.

But I needn't have worried.  It was as excellent as ever, with fun, action, pathos, laughs, and special effects and scenery that weren't like anything I'd seen before.

I had played back seat movie producer for the last couple of years, wondering why Kevin Feige would feel the need to spend two hundred million dollars on a Shang-Chi movie, on a Eternals movie, when the safer bet would be to make a much smaller, much cheaper movie out of characters with much more limited appeal (not every Marvel film has to be THE AVENGERS in cost and scope).  But his attitude seemed to be Go big or go home, and gosh darn it, he knocked it out of the park again.  

Guess that's why I pay to watch the movies instead of being paid to make them.

Oh, and I even ended up liking Awkwafina's character, which is even more amazing.

Push-ups Today: 55
Push-ups In September: 326

Oh, I meant to say that I got home from the movie, packed up my things (my family was going to the cabin at 7:30 the next morning), and got in bed, turned out the light . . . and remembered I hadn't done any push-ups (I had done sit-ups and my run before it got dark).  I laid there for about thirty seconds, debating what to do, then forced myself out of bed, into the living room, and zomped out a few push-ups, then went back to bed, knowing I had eked out the bare minimum effort in life once again.

Beats the alternative, though.

Words Today: 1095
Words In September: 2149

*This applies even more to THE ETERNALS, which has been--so far--even less appealing than SHANG-CHI, as far as characters and situations I'm invested in.

Rish Outcast 205: Podcatcher Part II

So, mateys, here be the second half of my cryptid horror tale "podcatcher."  

To download the episode, Right-Click HERE.

To support me on Patreon, click HERE.

Logo by Gino "Pod-Pitcher" Moretto.

September Sweeps - Day 579

I woke up early, and didn't allow myself to go back to sleep.  I sat in my chair, editing the now month-overdue "August To August" episode of the Outcast, and when my morning alarm went off, I went over and grabbed a semi-stale donut, and scarfed it down, effectively canceling out the 250 sit-ups I did last night while watching the movie.

Today, I plan to sit in the sun and read my book, narrate a story from a book of old ghost tales I got from the library, and write the big love scene I started yesterday.  I'm no good at love scenes.  I'm so bad, it makes me think I'm no good at anything.

I never know how in-depth to go, whether to describe the kissing and leave the rest to the imagination, or to detail full penetration, since that can be effective too.  The sweet spot is probably somewhere in between, but I struggle with it.

And as soon as I finish that unpleasant detail (I really need to lay back and think of England, don't I?), I can write the climax of the story, and then . . . I'm pretty much done.  It could all be finished today.

Except it won't be.  Once I finish this book, I'll try my best to stop writing completely, so I can move on to publishing.  And that will be hard, after more than five hundred days in a row.

Just because I'm stopping the daily thing doesn't mean I won't still write, it just means I won't tally up the words, and it won't be a joyless chore every one out of three days.  Oh, I guess I won't have to blog about it either, but I'll probably come back here when I've got something to say, every couple of weeks or so.  For sure, that'll free up some time for me every day, and that should be interesting.

Sit-ups Today: 111
Sit-ups In September: 361

I started editing an audio Dead & Breakfast story in the morning (mostly so I could clear up space on my recorder, which is always between 80 and 95% fill), and then I wrote a bit on my book in the afternoon . . . and you know what?  I called Lara "Natalie" in two different paragraphs.

Writing's weird.

Early in the afternoon, I went into the bedroom (I never sleep in there--the bed absolutely kills my back) and tried to record a story from the new library book. 

But I couldn't.  The print was just too small.  It was the size of a paperback, but the print was like that of one of those miniature Bibles you give to servicemen in the off-chance they stop an errant bullet.  I tried reading a story, but it wasn't worth it, so I laid back and fell asleep.

Push-ups Today: 216
Push-ups In September: 271

It wasn't particularly cold at the cabin this trip, though I did leave the windows closed, and kept a blanket around me when I went outside or ran from one end of the dam to the other (this is a custom for me--a ritual maybe--and I'm never not surprised how hard it is to catch my breath at this high elevation, usually making it about a block before my body goes, "No, dude, hit the brakes--something's wrong.").  It rained lightly during the night, but it was mostly pleasant.

However, I looked out the window while trying to wash a pot (I had accidentally bought the non-instant kind of rice, and ended up overcooking it, trying to get the grains to soften up), I discovered that two of the trees were changing their leaves already.  It really broke my heart.

Words Today: 386
Words In September: 1054

September Sweeps - Day 578

New month, new bunth.  Wait, does anything rhyme with "month?"*

I didn't mention it yesterday, but I took a little nap in the afternoon when I shouldn't have, just closed my eyes "for a minute," and when I opened them, over an hour had passed.  It was not something I was proud of . . . but today, while driving toward the cabin, I didn't get sleepy even once, and that was new.

Part of me says, I need to not be lazy EVER, I need to stretch myself further and work harder and be better.  But another part says, "See, you took a nap yesterday, and now that you're at the cabin today, you'll make better use of your time.  So the nap was a good thing."  Maybe both are right.

Sit-ups Today: 250 (I wanted to give the sit-ups a healthy head start this month)

For the first time this year, I took my uncle's camera with me to the cabin.  I was reminded recently when I heard somebody refer to a dee-ess-el-ar, and I didn't know what that was.  I listened, and she said it again--DSLR, as though it meant something.  So I looked up the abbreviation, and discovered that it means Digital Single Lens Reflex camera.  I'm pretty sure that's what I have.  I just wish I had somebody to take pictures of with it.

I will have to figure out how to transfer pictures off of it the next time I'm there.  Also, it's supposed to have a video setting--I'll try to record something with it to see how it turns out.

I did a search for "DSLR Camera," and this was among the pictures that came up.  Not sure why I picked this one, though.

When I got here, a full hour earlier than last week (last week I was dealing with my driver's license and such--or was that two weeks ago?), but still later than would be optimal, there was nothing in the traps (there are three, all remain unsprung), but there was a rifle next to the front door of the cabin.

It is my brother's rifle, but just left where anybody could see it, or indeed, grab it.**  Well, I picked it up, just to see if it was loaded--it was--and took aim at a tree stump just past the shed where we keep the shovels and the emergency generator.  I thought I'd see if I could still shoot straight, after thirty-something years.  

But right before I pulled the trigger, I saw an animal's face looking my way just past the stump.  There was a deer laying down in the grass there, watching me, right where I was about to shoot my brother's rifle.  There was something mortifying about that to me, so I turned in the other direction and took aim at a tree trunk up high.  I pulled the trigger, and (like the Sting song) a shot rang out throughout the land--MUCH louder than I ever would have guessed.  And those poor deer behind the shed (there were at least three of them) started bounding for the hills.  

Push-ups Today: 55 (push-ups are hard at this elevation, on a wood floor)

I really like that Ed Sheeran guy, but boy, that "Bad Habits" song has to go.  Every time I hear it, I appreciate the guy less.

I got my Patreon address edited, and even though I'd brought a couple of movies I'd never seen with me, chose to watch SAVING MR. BANKS again.  If you recall, it tells the story of the culmination of Walt Disney's twenty years of attempting to buy the rights to "Mary Poppins" from P.L. Travers, focusing on her 1961 visit to Los Angeles, and flashing back about a hundred times to her childhood in Australia, showing how she, I don't know, somehow both got her inspiration for "Poppins" and lost her sense of wonder.

Big and I reviewed it on our show when it came out, but I had forgotten just how loathesome a character they make Travers, despite Emma Thompson's inherent likeability.  Tom Hanks plays Disney as just about as saintly as is humanly possible, but we sort of warm to Travers as the film goes along, understanding (sort of) why she ended up the way she is.  You see, her father was a dreamer, a drunk who had Rish Outfield Syndrome (a chronic condition in which you're fired from every job you've ever had), and died of Ali McGraw disease (a term coined by Roger Ebert that still makes me laugh whenever I think about it).

The film is a love letter to the Disney company, and particularly MARY POPPINS . . . but there's also an outsider's cynicism thrown in, that reflects what people who despise Disney capitalism see whenever they see the logo and the endless parade of marketed products.  Of course, Travers is fundamentally changed by her experience, and becomes a sunnier, happier person by the end of the movie, but goes to the Hollywood premiere out of spite, and insults Disney during the movie itself, in a moment that I found both brave and amusing.***

Words Today: 668

*How about the villain's last name in the MAGRUBER movie?

**That reminds me, my brother has set up these two motion cameras beside the cabin, in order to find out whether the badger I saw back in June is still around (it showed up, in fact, in photos last Wednesday, right before I got here), and when he comes here, he looks at the pictures, and has forwarded me a couple of the more interesting ones (I'm really tempted to grab my T-Rex dinosaur and have it pop into frame right in front of the camera, just to see if it startles him).  And a couple of weeks ago, the camera captured the images of a bunch of strangers walking around the outside of the cabin, apparently looking at the trench we'd dug and filled in . . . or I don't know what.  There was something super disconcerting about that--knowing people we didn't know had been here--but as far as I know, they didn't try to get in or anything.  Just weird.

***Apparently, Travers really did weep through the screening of MARY POPPINS at the premiere, but the story goes that she did so, not because she was so moved, but because she so hated what they had done to her beloved book.