Author Archives: Pamela

This is cute but that’s a lot of raccoons for one yard.

I have some time off from work and in my mind I had all these long neglected projects and plans that I was going to do, like online classes, and tackle recipes I’d clipped, organize photos, read all that stuff I set aside for later.

Now we are here and I feel no urge to take care of these things. My new approach is to scrub all this stuff. Unsubscribe! Toss! Delete! Put in the donate pile! Don’t need to watch it, read it, finish it. It’s liberating but also, oddly, makes me angry.

Yesterday I rage-quit a subscription. Our household thinks journalism is important and we pay for a lot of stuff. One of my subscriptions for an electronic publication was due and the amount wasn’t anywhere on the dashboard. I know I signed up at a discount so I figured the regular rate was going to higher. But how do I find out? Why do I have to work for such basic information? I never figured it out. I cancelled the subscription.

I don’t think I ever summed up my final NaNo count. I just barely exceeded my goal. I’m not sure what to do with the project. Before I go any further I need to sit down and map out what I want it to be. But it was supposed to just be a fun for myself project but I still need some idea of where I’m headed.

17597 / 17000 words. 104% done!

It’s cold and raining. A mourning dove has been in our backyard for about 2 hours, first perching gloomily on the edge of the bird bath as if stood up for a date, later on the ground picking at a few bird seeds scattered about.

I was concerned that there was something wrong. I am not the kind of person that wants to rescue a wild bird. But I also didn’t want to leave it out there as it’s getting dark if it’s hurt.

I took the compost out and it stayed on the ground and gave me an aggrieved look before flying off in warbly huff.

I thoughtfully threw fresh seeds out for it. What was it doing out in the rain, all alone, on a Saturday night?

We had our family Christmas last weekend and near as I can tell, no one took a single photo. It was good company and good food.

But I’m not going to lie: I am very happy not to cook another turkey until next year. As soon as I finish this I am prepping the last of the leftover into a noodle casserole delight.

First ever award eligibility post. It was a big year for me. I had two short story publications this year.

“Obstruction” (4600 words) in Fantasy Magazine, October 2021.

It features a Karuk immortal who ran away, a white-water rafting reality show taking over a sacred site, and a cranky tribal official.

“Security Breach at Sugar Pine Suites” (4200 words) in the Indigenous Futures issue of Apex Magazine.

It features a rebellious housekeeper, a washed-up boybander, and a cranky supervisor at an NDN casino in space.

I’m really proud of them both.

This is the Kootenai Tribe’s fish hatchery on the Kootenai River in N. Idaho.

Back when I thought my class was ending before Thanksgiving, I snoozed a bunch of emails and set up a bunch of reminders so I could take care of a few things.

Then over the weekend everything lit up plus every company I have bought something from in the last twenty years sent me an email and it was completely overwhelming.

Next weekend I’ll figure it all out.

Another November finished.

Check out Percy with his one little leaf and one little fig. He hung onto that one leaf for awhile.

On Thanksgiving Day I saw a bunch of birds around my feeders so I ran out with peanuts and goodies so they could enjoy a Thanksgiving meal, too.

I scared them all off.

I looked out 15 minutes later and Fat Squirrel had waddled into the picture and was going to town, hiding peanuts and stuffing his little face with seeds.

When we were in Orleans, the persimmon tree was starting to produce. Mom was in charge and she picked a lot of persimmons. For some reason I thought I didn’t like persimmons but I was wrong. Persimmons are like the fruit you would invent if you could invent a fruit — a cross between a peach and an apple.

Last night I was half-dreaming about these last persimmons. I need to turn them into pulp so I can make cookies. My husband and brother love persimmon cookies.

I did not understand my own goal for NaNo. I thought it was 250 a day but I guess it was more like 400 a day. I need focus Monday and Tuesday if I’m going to make it.

15766 / 17000 words. 93% done!

I like how the blossom looks like crazy hair. Too bad I didn’t have my googly eyes when I took this photo.

Bread in the window at a shop in Belgium.

Every once in awhile when I’m going through my photos I find pictures like these. What was I thinking when I took these and why did I keep them?

Both from Orleans.

I think this one maybe because of that pumpkin — there are a couple of others like this — random tangle of shrubs and trees and a pumpkin.