Feeding My Inner Brat

March 16, 2022March 16, 2022 / Diane Henders / 27 Comments

I usually try to eat a healthy diet (except for a once-a-week indulgence in beer and deep-fried food on Friday evenings). But I adore all types of food, and I especially love that glorious full-tummy feeling after a big luxurious meal.

So my food intake has always been a balancing act. I’m lucky to have a forgiving metabolism, so I rarely gain more than a few pounds before realizing it’s time to (re)adjust. But I have a definite cycle:

Healthy food in healthy portions
Healthy food in portions that slowly increase until the plate looks comfortably full
Generous portions of mostly-healthy food with frequent treats
Big satisfying portions, with unlimited snacks and treats, woohoo!
*sound of squealing brakes* …and back to healthy food in healthy portions

Unfortunately, there’s a big ‘culture shock’ between steps 4 and 5. When my portions are suddenly reduced to normal, the plate looks sadly empty; and it takes a while for my brain to adjust to how ‘normal’ looks.

Part of the problem is that I don’t actually want to adjust. My inner spoiled brat is perfectly happy with lots and lots of food and treats, so she constantly tries to undermine the efforts of my inner (and rarely-displayed) adult. Last week I thought I had everything under control, but then this happened:

My inner brat is definitely getting trickier, but I think I’ve got her subdued… this time. Please tell me I’m not the only one with an inner spoiled brat!

Book 17 update: I’m on Chapter 26 — over half finished the book, hooray! Bullets are flying, and the guy Aydan just saved might turn out to be an enemy. There’s always something…

So, This Happened:

September 15, 2021September 15, 2021 / Diane Henders / 52 Comments

Yes, this really happened. I have no idea why my brain thought it needed to throw out those two particular words this week. I don’t know anyone named Culpepper, and I can’t even remember when I last heard or read the name. I’ve never cooked brisket, or considered cooking brisket; in fact I don’t think I’ve ever eaten brisket.

But I guess if there’s a character named Culpepper in my next book who likes brisket, you’ll know why.

Please tell me I’m not the only one with a brain that wakes me by spewing random words…

…oh.

June 26, 2019June 26, 2019 / Diane Henders / 43 Comments

We have houseguests this week, so it’s a shorter post today. Here’s a little cartoon that occurred to me moments after I cursed the aphids for ganging up on my baby fruit trees last week.

I guess the aphids don’t have a corner on that kind of ‘stupidity’…

And, in other news…

I’m doing a short public presentation in mid-July. There are so many artists and writers and other creative types here on Vancouver Island, I thought it would be nice to offer my writing and publishing experience, for what it’s worth.

I’m not sure whether it’ll be a help, an inspiration, or merely a shudder-worthy cautionary tale; but I hope we’ll all have some chuckles in the process. I hope to see you there!

Unnatural Nature

February 21, 2018February 21, 2018 / Diane Henders / 36 Comments

So, tell me again how “It never snows on Vancouver Island”…

Just to punish me for my smugness in telling my prairie friends that my spring bulbs were already up, it snowed again last weekend. About eight inches. It wasn’t quite what I’d been imagining when I’d heard other women brag, “I got eight inches last night.”

But I’m not going to complain too much about the unnatural weather. It really is almost spring here – I saw some varied thrushes poking around in the yard last week and I’m hoping they have the inside scoop. I keep telling myself the snow probably won’t stay long; and it’s actually very pretty.

Not only that but it’s warm(ish) outside, so walking through the winter wonderland is a joy. I snapped some photos that couldn’t capture all the beautiful sparkles, but I tried:

Hoarfrost on top of snow: It looks like sparkly polar bear fur.

More hoarfrost

Snow hanging off our pagewire fence in delicate scallops

Snow-laden cedar

I also enjoy the snow because it reveals the tracks of all the little critters that we don’t get to see very often during daylight hours. I’ve only seen a rabbit once, but the snow reveals that there are several around… or else one very active one. There’s also a rat or a very large mouse; or possibly an extremely well-hung squirrel:

I’m guessing “rat”.

But as I was strolling through the woods reading the tales of the footprints, I came upon a trail where a rabbit had crossed the road… and was apparently surprised by the ditch embankment:

Watch that last step – it’s a doozy.

Standing there looking at the skidmark, I started to laugh as this popped into my mind:

Rare And Majestic Nature Scenes

Happy winter!

Okay, I Admit It…

August 30, 2017August 30, 2017 / Diane Henders / 54 Comments

Hi, my name is Diane and I’m a bookaholic.

My addiction has serious effects on my daily life. I always need to have a book within reach, and I get anxious if my To-Be-Read pile dwindles to fewer than ten books.

Oh, I pretend to be “only a social reader”. I pretend I could put down that book once I’ve started it. Sometimes I even succeed; but then all I can think of is getting back to the book. I lie awake in bed, staring at the ceiling and fighting the book’s siren call. Sometimes I manage to fall asleep. More often I slip out of bed and finish reading in the dark and secret hours of the night.

Whenever I finish a book, I feel a lessening of the need… but only until I glimpse the next book. Then the urge is stronger than ever.

I fight it, to no avail.

“Only one per day,” I promise myself. “That’s normal, right? That’s only social reading… okay, two books. Two per day, that’s still okay. I can do a full day’s work, have an early supper, and if I start reading by six I can be in bed by eleven. Midnight at the latest.”

But then I find a series.

Soon I’m reading three or four books a day, immersed in the guilty pleasure. Meals go uncooked; laundry undone. I forget important appointments and have to find excuses for why I didn’t show up at my accountant’s or dentist’s or doctor’s office.

I feel ashamed. Other people can lay down their books. Some people only read a few pages before bed and then stop. Why can’t I do that?

Because I’m a bookaholic, that’s why. An addict.

And no, I don’t want a 12-step program, thank you very much. Just back away and let me read, and nobody will get hurt.

The other day I finished a book and went to look for Hubby in the workshop, but he was nowhere to be found. I checked the garage, too. Nada.

I’d seen him leave, so I wandered around outside for a while but I still couldn’t find him. When I went back into the house, there he was.

“When did you sneak in?” I demanded. “I was looking for you outside.”

He gave me an ‘are-you-nuts?’ look. “I walked right by you twenty minutes ago. I couldn’t have been more than six feet away. You were reading.”

“Oh.”

He laughed. “We need to rig up a cattle prod connected to a timer, to launch you out of that chair when it’s time to stop reading.”

“No,” I disagreed, with perhaps a hint of menace. “That’d only piss me off.”

“Okay, how about an electric-shock cushion hooked up to one of those alarm clocks that comes on gradually? It would start with a little tingle and then build up until you noticed it.”

“Um, no. I’ve had that TENS electrical treatment for physiotherapy. If you turn it up gradually you get used to it. I’d just end up getting slowly electrocuted.”

“No problem; we’ll use a current-limiter.” Hubby grinned. “This could work.”

But I’m not convinced…

Whew! …I Think…

January 18, 2017 / Diane Henders / 53 Comments

Disgusting Butt Mounds

July 6, 2016 / Diane Henders / 57 Comments

So tell me: When you read the title of this post, what was your mental image?

Okay, maybe that isn’t a fair question. After all, if you’ve been reading my blog for a while, I’d be shocked if you didn’t immediately leap to an off-colour interpretation just because you know me too well.

So let’s keep this scientific and unbiased. I’ll rephrase the question: What would you have envisioned if you’d seen that title on the page of a serious and established online newspaper?

At this point you may be shaking your head and saying, “Get a grip. It’s just another one of your twisted misreads.”

You’d be completely justified in thinking that, but no; this time I had read the headline correctly. In its entirety, it read: “Will Timmins council get rid of downtown’s disgusting butt mounds?”

I read it once; then again. Triple-checked to be sure I wasn’t misreading it.

Stared at it, wondering, “What the hell can they possibly be talking about?”

And then my brain exploded with speculations and vile mental images:

Speculation 1: Maybe the denizens of downtown Timmins have frequent and/or intentional wardrobe malfunctions that expose their disgusting butt mounds, and everybody’s sick of seeing them. (I visualize the follow-up headline: “Timmins eyes buttcrack bylaw”.)

Speculation 2: Perhaps people are reacting to one of those ill-conceived investments in Downtown Art that leaves everybody questioning the sanity of both the city council and the artist. (New headline: “Timmins makes cracks about butt-ugly sculpture”.)

Speculation 3: Or maybe the Butt Mounds are some sort of natural landscape feature that the citizens of Timmins find offensive and their city council is coming under pressure to raze the eyesore. (New headline: “Environmentalists implore: ‘Timmins, support your Butt Mounds!’”)

Sad to say, I wasn’t even close with any of my speculations. Nope, they were talking about mounds of cigarette butts in the outdoor smoking areas: https://www.sudbury.com/around-the-north/will-timmins-council-get-rid-of-downtowns-disgusting-butt-mounds-328274

Well, shit. Talk about anticlimactic. But at least it gave me a giggle or three.

What’s funny in your world this week?

* * *

New discussion at the Virtual Backyard Book Club: Two Guys, One Girl – What Do You Think? Click here to have your say!

My Life’s A Thriller

March 2, 2016March 2, 2016 / Diane Henders / 58 Comments

The weeks leading up to a new release are always stressful for me – so much to do! So little time! And after spending the last five years immersed in writing, I’ve developed a few habits that spill over into my ‘real’ life (such as it is). For example, the habit of building as much tension as possible into even the smallest events.

Sometimes I get a little too caught up in my work…

caught up in my work

And, in other thrilling news:

First: Is that a turtle in your pants, or are you just happy to see me? http://www.ctvnews.ca/canada/ont-man-fined-for-smuggling-nearly-40-live-turtles-in-his-pants-1.2792723

I suspect it wasn’t much of a thrill for the turtles, but, as my blogging buddy Beth Younker points out, if one of them had been a snapping turtle it might have been an exciting time for both smuggler and border guards alike. Sadly, no snapping turtles were included, but the article does have a rather questionable reference to ‘red-eared sliders’. Sounds like a euphemism to me…

And this: http://www.cbc.ca/news/canada/toronto/wynne-photo-op-goes-wrong-1.3470752. ‘Cause seriously, how often do you get to see a premier posing with a giant pink phallic object? I doubt if it did much for her, but the media got a cheap thrill from it… and the rest of us laughed our asses off!

Any thrills in your life this week?

Pre-orders are available for Book 11: The Spies That Bind! So far Amazon, Smashwords, Barnes & Noble, and Apple are up, but I’m still waiting on Kobo (as usual). As soon as they’re all available, I’ll send out an email to everyone on the New Book Notification list. I’ll also send a second email on March 18 when the book is released.

If you’d like to sign up for new release notifications, just click here. (If you already signed up for a previous book, you’re still on the list unless you unsubscribed or changed your email address.)

A Very Vampire Solstice-mas

December 23, 2015October 2, 2018 / Diane Henders / 53 Comments

Woohoo! We’ve made it past the shortest day! I always feel better when we’re on the upswing and I know I’ll be getting more light every day. (As opposed to ‘getting lighter’, which I definitely won’t be doing unless I stop devouring Christmas goodies.)

The darkness of winter doesn’t bother Hubby, but then again, he’s basically a vampire – he’s just beginning to hit his stride around 10 PM every night. And he loathes garlic. (I haven’t dared to try holy water on him.)

I’d never make it as a vampire – I love daylight far too much. Though, come to think of it, I burn to a crisp in ten minutes or less when exposed to direct sunshine, so I actually may be part vampire. Hmmm…

Anyway, at least the snow brightens everything up and makes the most of the little daylight we have, and we light up the night as much as we can. This video pretty much describes us for the entire month of December.

Okay, we’re not quite that over-the-top – for one thing, our LED lights just aren’t that bright. But they make up for it with the splendour of quantity, since we can now power all 5000+ bulbs off one 20-amp breaker. And hey, at least the City of Calgary doesn’t have to switch over to nuclear backup when we turn them on.

I realize that solstice, Christmas, and blood-sucking soulless creatures aren’t usually combined in the same post, but this is what happens when I get a massive shortbread overdose. And it’s actually not too much of a stretch when you think about it. I’m sure we’ve all been at an office party where we’ve looked around at our blood-sucking soulless co-workers and shuddered.

And now that I’ve made the mental connection, I just can’t get this thought out of my mind:

vampire christmas

I figure one’s social skills would get pretty rusty if one spent all one’s time locked away from the rest of humanity, absorbed in one’s own nefarious schemes…

Wait, why are you looking at me like that? I’m talking about the vampires, not myself. I swear I’ve never fanged an eggnog carton… Okay, once; but there were mitigating circumstances.

Oh, and here’s another digression (what was in that shortbread?!?): Eggnog makes me laugh. Yes, it’s full of creamy spicy goodness and, if you’re lucky, enough Christmas spirits to make anyone laugh; but here in Canada all products have to be labelled in both our official languages. So one side of the carton says ‘Eggnog’ and the other says ‘Lait de poule’, which is the French version. The literal translation is ‘milk of hen’. Chicken milk. *giggles childishly*

As you can undoubtedly tell, I need a vacation (or possibly an intervention, but those are harder to arrange). So next week I’m giving myself the gift of some uninterrupted writing time on Book 11 – woohoo all over again! My next post will be on January 6, so I’ll look forward to ‘talking’ to you then.

Meanwhile, Hubby and I would like to send our very best wishes to everyone:

Joy to those who celebrate; comfort to those who mourn; and peace and abundance to all, now and in the New Year.

xmas tree

If you celebrate Christmas, we wish you a very merry one!

* * *

P.S. Another cause for ‘woohoo-ing’: I’ve finally finished my cover updates! Here’s the last one:

It’s A Dilemma…

December 16, 2015 / Diane Henders / 85 Comments

Sometimes I struggle with a bit of a dilemma. I’m not good at interpreting the subtleties of social interactions, so I’m never quite sure whether people are genuinely glad to see me or just being polite. It doesn’t help that I live in Canada, where we’re polite to even idiots and assholes. I never know which of those I am.

That makes reconnecting with long-lost acquaintances an iffy proposition. Any time I send out a friend request or a ‘let’s keep in touch’ note, I’m reminded of the old saying: “The ones you hope you’ll never hear from again are the ones who never lose your number.”

I was thinking of that the other day while I was writing the letter to go in our Christmas cards. Normal people probably don’t worry about stuff like this, but ever since I became a writer I’ve been cautious about mentioning my career. I never know how people will react.

When I was an interior designer (*shudders*) or a draftsperson or a computer geek, people outside my profession usually responded one of two ways when I told them what I did for a living: They either nodded and changed the subject to something that actually interested them, or they pounced on me and tried to get free services.

But when I say I’m a fiction writer, the reactions are alarmingly varied. I still get “Ho-hum; well, how about that weather we’re having?” That’s okay.

The ‘pounce’ reaction translates to “Hey, I have a great idea for a novel! I’ll give you a ten-second snapshot of my idea, and you can spend the next six solid months sweating blood while you plan it, write it, edit it, proof it, and publish it; and then we can share the profits 50/50!”

Um… no.

It’s the third type of reaction that makes me reticent about dropping the ‘writer’ bombshell: Their eyes dilate and they break out in a fine dew of perspiration while they back away in squeamish embarrassment as though they’d just caught me smiling and humming with my hand down my pants.

Or worse, their eyes dilate and they start sweating, but they’re coming at me as if they’re hoping I’ll start smiling and humming with my hand down my pants. Then they whisper, “Do you write porn?”

It’s a fair question; it’s just that sweaty wide-eyed people with no sense of personal space really creep me out…

Anyhow, back to the Christmas cards. This year I decided to reconnect with my Grade 12 English teacher. He was a very cool guy back in 1982, and I’ve always wondered how things turned out for him. I also owe him a debt of gratitude for convincing me that English class wasn’t a dead loss, and for having the courage to share his love for poetry with a bunch of hormone-ridden country-bumpkin teenagers.

So I sent him a card, and when he graciously responded I wrote him an email thanking him for laying the groundwork for my writing career. It should’ve been a pleasant, stress-free interaction, right?

But all the while, I was visualizing this: