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My mood could be better this morning. Everything is like sandpaper on my nerves. Not the frame of mind I need to be in, nor the one I thought I'd be in after yesterday, which turned out rather well.

Well, it began a bit annoyingly, with a bunch of corrections to "Houses Under the Sea," corrections I had to type up and email to Dark Horse for Lovecraft Unbound. Everything had to be done in some format I was unfamiliar with, and there was a font problem with the Greek. And there was a bunch of other email. But we escaped the House sometime around 3 p.m., and the day was beautiful. Not too warm, and not too cool. Sunny, but just enough clouds the sky didn't have that oppressive, carnivorous cast that I cannot abide.

We drove down to Warwick, to what I think must be the only Barnes and Noble in Rhode Island, and I did a stock signing. When I left, there were still three signed copies of The Red Tree shelved under "New Science Fiction." No, The Red Tree isn't sf, but that's where it was shelved. So, if you're in Warwick, RI, and want a signed copy, they might still have one or two. I'll likely also be doing stock signings at other stores in RI and Mass. this month. Anyway, we also scored some good hardbacks from the cheap tables: Clive Barker's Mister B. Gone, William Gibson's Spook Country, and a beautiful, large-format edition of Coleridge's "Rime of the Ancient Mariner" with the Doré illustrations.

From Warwick, we drove south, and over the West Passage of Narragansett Bay to Conanicut Island. We walked about Jamestown for a bit, but there were far too many tourists, so we headed south to the very lower tip of the island, Beavertail Point and the lighthouse. We spread a blanket out on a grassy ledge above the sea (at 41°26'57.09"N, 71°23'58.56"W) only twenty or thirty yards from the aforementioned lighthouse. The sea was calmer than our last visit there, and the wind wasn't cold. Spooky worked on the hickory wand she's been shaping, and I dozed for a while. It's wonderful to sleep beside the sea, beneath the sun. Later, I grew fidgety, and we climbed down into a rocky cove. I found a truly exceptional piece of beach glass. But mostly, I just watched the sea and listened to the rising tide. There were a few fisherman on the rocks, but mostly we were alone. We stayed until the sun was almost completely down. After the stress and frantic pace of the past week, it was soothing, being there. There is no winning arguments with the sea, and so there are no arguments. Not from me, at least.

For dinner, Spooky wanted Iggy's, so we drove back across the Jamestown Bridge and then all the way down to Iggy's in Narragansett. We both had clam chowder. Spooky also had clam cakes, and I had a bite of one of them. Slowly, I am beginning to like clam cakes, though at first they seemed to me a bit like clam doughnuts. And then we drove back home to Providence. I think we got home around a little after ten p.m.

We watched the pilot and first episode of Space: Above and Beyond. I was rather fond of the series when it first aired back in '95-'96, and curious how it had aged. And Spooky had never seen it. It holds up better than I'd expected. I'd described it to Spooky as a cross between Starship Troopers and the rebooted Battlestar Galactica, and that still seems about right. A shame it didn't survive for the five seasons the creators had planned, but only the one.

Today, it's back to work. There are four vignettes to write, and I neeed to finish proofing The Ammonite Violin & Others for subpress. But first, there are a few photos from yesterday:





Jamestown, looking towards the Newport Bridge (view to the northeast).



View from the place where I dozed in the grass at Beavertail (view to the south)



Queen Ann's Lace (Daucus carota)



The lighthouse was enduring some sort of repairs.



Mounds of tiny Blue mussels (Mytilus edulis).



Exposed seaweed clinging to the Cambrian-aged rocks.



The rising tide (view to the southeast).



A passing sailboat (view to the southeast).



The sun setting over Narragansett Bay.



Moments later.

All photographs Copyright © 2009 by Caitlín R. Kiernan and Kathryn A. Pollnac

Comments

( 12 comments — Have your say! )
sovay
Aug. 8th, 2009 05:24 pm (UTC)
There is no winning arguments with the sea, and so there are no arguments.

I envy you sleeping within sound of the sea.

Thank you especially for the blue mussels and the seaweed.
greygirlbeast
Aug. 8th, 2009 05:26 pm (UTC)


Thank you especially for the blue mussels and the seaweed.


You're very welcome. There were too many good photos from yesterday. It was hard to choose just ten.
chris_walsh
Aug. 8th, 2009 05:36 pm (UTC)
(Imagine this comment spoken in a soothing voice, so as not to grind on your nerves...)

Thank you for sharing more of the sea. Looking at the boats makes me want to ask: does being close to the water make you want to get out on the water? I did when I was in Massachusetts last year, and I took advantage of that: rode the Boston-Salem high-speed catamaran twice, then took a Boston Harbor boat shuttle to get to the airport. (I also make sure to ride Pacific Northwesr ferries when I have the chance. It even tickled me a bit to learn BSG used a ferry as a spaceship's cargo hold back in the miniseries.)

I should finally watch all of Space: Above and Beyond; I've only seen chunks so far. I've heard it was one of the best projects the late Shirley Walker got to compose for, and she scored the show with gusto.

Congratulations for getting to work with Dark Horse. *shows his Portland pride* I hope you feel better about working with them once you're done with the editing rigamarole. It's a good outfit; and I know people who work for it.

at first they seemed to me a bit like clam doughnuts.

This made me chuckle.
greygirlbeast
Aug. 8th, 2009 05:38 pm (UTC)

does being close to the water make you want to get out on the water?

It does. We're actually talking about getting a canoe.
chris_walsh
Aug. 8th, 2009 10:29 pm (UTC)
I also can picture you living in a boathouse, for some reason. Floating where you're living.

Too bad there's no room for a boathouse at McElligott's Pool.
(Deleted comment)
greygirlbeast
Aug. 8th, 2009 05:47 pm (UTC)

Much to my surprise, I really didn't mind the snow, this past winter (my first in New England), though we had a solid month of if in January. It was the long cold spring I disliked.
martianmooncrab
Aug. 8th, 2009 06:52 pm (UTC)
done in some format I was unfamiliar with

a specific color of crayola on butcher paper...

(I liked Space when it was on, even with the plot gaps in it, the Tank episode is still my fave)
robyn_ma
Aug. 8th, 2009 07:33 pm (UTC)
'Slowly, I am beginning to like clam cakes, though at first they seemed to me a bit like clam doughnuts.'

They will always seem like clam doughnuts to me, and I've lived here forever. Do not want.
greygirlbeast
Aug. 8th, 2009 07:48 pm (UTC)

They will always seem like clam doughnuts to me, and I've lived here forever. Do not want.

Personally, I think they would be greatly improved by modeling a new recipe on the Southern hush puppy, using corn flower instead of wheat for a better texture, and spicing them up with black pepper, onion, etc.
robyn_ma
Aug. 8th, 2009 09:26 pm (UTC)
There you go. Just sell Cait's Atlanta-Style Clam Puppies. You'll make a mint.
chris_walsh
Aug. 8th, 2009 10:25 pm (UTC)
*brain bends at phrase "clam puppies"*

I enjoy having a dirty mind. I really do. I think I'll have fun imagining what these could look like...
xpeacock_eyesx
Aug. 8th, 2009 10:52 pm (UTC)
Your pictures of the sea are lovely! I understand the feeling you have for the sea, that is how I feel about the desert.
( 12 comments — Have your say! )