Category Archives: sport

When sport interrupts, breaking my heart

Or just squeezing my soul; San Francisco Giant Melky Cabrera was busted for using synthetic testosterone, suspended for fifty games.  That wipes out the rest of his regular season, not that the Giants will keep him.  This revelation runs deeply here in the Bay Area, what with Barry Bonds another drug cheat, and a SF Giant.  One of the Giants’ relief pitchers was hit with a one hundred game suspension for drugs, but they have kept Guillermo Mota on staff.  Not sure what they will do with Melky.  All I know is I spent this afternoon reading news articles while listening to the announcers call the Giants and Washington Nationals; Nationals are winning 6-2.  Also trying to get the rest of today’s WIP sorted, a good word count (5,658), but once that was done, not much else was going to be accomplished.  I had planned on some editing but the winds were ripped from my sails.  I love sport, but I abhor stupidity.  Getting juiced is dumb, crooked, wrong.  And that it interfered with my work, bah!

Stupid Melky Cabrera…

Blogging, Olympics, and Doctor Who

Two weeks ago the Olympics began, and as a former resident of Yorkshire, England, I watched the opening ceremonies with more than a touch of pride.  Danny Boyle pulled off a British extravaganza, Team GB has excelled, and while I don’t when I’ll get back to my second home, one day it will occur.  Several cuppas will be enjoyed in the process.

I started blogging in the UK; my eldest was in America, doing a year of high school, living with my husband’s sister’s family.  My daughter wanted updates from our northern English village, introduced me to Blogger, and I’ve been poking around blogs ever since.  Switching to WordPress during the Opening Ceremonies, I followed the excitement while adding posts and pages.  I like WordPress; building my website was far more easy than I imagined.  I will always recall trying to sort some techie detail while going between the LA Times, the BBC, and the NY Times, wondering just how was everything going to fall into place; the blog, Britain’s shine on a world stage.  So far, it’s all been pretty fantastic.

Now, as the Olympics wind down, the blogging well in hand, another topic tugs on my heart; Doctor Who will start up again, maybe by the end of the month.  We began our foray into Who-dom when my husband took our eldest to Manchester for her SAT’s.  We didn’t know all of us would be coming back to America, but she was, for university.  They watched the Ninth Doctor in Manchester, then brought him to our village, where Doctor Who took firm residence.  We lugged him back with us in plots and Daleks; my eldest has a Dalek in the guise of a now empty bubble bath container, and the sign for the newlyweds’ parking spot at the reception contained a Tardis and book of spoilers amid wedding rings and other pertinent info, like Parking Reserved, the big date, etc, etc.  It’s been a funny summer, what with her wedding, little writing (although it’s going well now, and will be attended to as soon as I wrap this up), Olympics, new blogging site, new website too.  And now, as it comes to a close, there’s Doctor Who.

Many songs from previous series’ soundtracks inspire my writing, I’ve felt the blessed hand of exquisite drama fall on my shoulder after watching more than a few episodes.  The writing is so often spot-on, a perfect blend of sci-fi and the heart.  Plenty of heart, as The Doctor has two.  It’s been a summer of heart-wrenching moments, from watching my eldest say I do, to the inspired and magical effort of all Olympians, but especially those of the host nation.  I am a Californian first, then firmly set in northern English soil.  Cut me and I bleed Yorkshire tea.

Big things will occur in Series 7; Amy and Rory will depart, a new companion revealed, great music from Murray Gold and the National Orchestra of Wales to absorb.  I probably won’t blog much about Doctor Who, unless I come here raving about the top-notch scripts or the fate of Mr and Mrs Pond.  But I wanted to note, as the Olympics herald their last medals, as I feel quite at home here on WordPress, just a little of what makes my heart sing.  Blogging, as I just can’t stay away from it.  Sport, which even at its darkest moments revives the soul with athletic grace and stamina.  And of course, The Doctor.  He doesn’t use a gun, often doesn’t have a plan.  But somehow, usually the best occurs.

And when it doesn’t, those two hearts ache more than we humans could ever know.

Sunday mornings

My life is filled with routines; Grape Nuts nearly every day, alongside several cuppas.  A bagel, with cream cheese, for lunch.  Writing occurs in an orderly fashion, one chapter a day when I’m noveling, always in the morning when my brain is most engaged.  My son has Asperger’s, and sometimes I wonder if I gave it to him, or he lent it to me.  Autism touched our lives who knows how, but on some planes I am pretty OCD, or just plain anal.  It leads to a comforting schedule that can be broken, to provide relief.  And when I return to my happy zone, I’m even more pleased.

One of the best habits is shared with my spouse; Sunday mornings we travel to Los Gatos for breakfast.  Usually (again my routine flares) I have a Belgian waffle with fruit; summertime sees fresh strawberries, autumn and winter I prefer bananas.  Today French cakes were on special, with vanilla pudding filling, topped with homemade granola and strawbs.  I chose a full order, aware that one third would go home to my daughter.  (She inherits half the waffle every week.)  My husband ordered his usual eggs over medium, bacon, spuds with extra grilled onions, wheat toast.  It’s taken him five years to stop asking for brown bread, an English trait.  We chatted with a lovely gentleman who arrives as early as we do; it starts off the week, or ends it, with perfect harmony.

I’ll spend the rest of this morning writing the fourth chapter in the WIP, while doing laundry.  Perhaps some baseball this afternoon (SF Giants and Colorado Rockies), then maybe some American football this evening.  It’s just preseason, but I’m a dedicated fan, and it’s the lark of the first game of 2012.  Soon Sundays won’t only mean The Los Gatos Cafe (downtown), but a day filled with gridiron action.  Being early August, footie dreams are still a few weeks away.

Then for the next few months my Sundays will teem with excitement.  For now, that breakfast stands as a slice of heaven.  Life is very very good…