Ken Schrader

So as not to suggest that I’ve not forgotten about it. I’m still processing my recent trip to England, Scotland, and Wales. I’ve got a post coming about it soon.

If you’ve read last week’s post, and might be curious…it wasn’t your typical, run-of-the-mill creeping crud.

Yup, after a couple of years of dodging bullets, I caught covid and let me go on a bit of a bit of a side-track here.

Aside from a time way back in my very late teens when I came down with Mono (Which put me to sleep at a Metallica concert), and recovering from cancer surgery, I can’t remember ever feeling so ground down.

Looking at the data, my resting heart rate while I was sleeping – which is typically in the low 50’s in beats per minute, spiked to 71 BPM. Again, this is while I WAS SLEEPING. My baseline resting heartrate during the day is around 69 BPM. My resting BPM for the past few days was 84.

Clearly there was some Battle of the Pellenor Fields level of shit going on.

At that time it was easy to rest. I couldn’t do anything else, though let me tell you, there’s a kind of guilt – I’m going to call it recovery guilt – that you feel when you’re not “Pulling your own weight” day-to-day.

For a while there, it was just my wife keeping the house running and, despite every bit of evidence (and there was a lot of it) that I needed to keep my ass planted and keep on recovering, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was somehow slacking off. I mean, I’d moved past the point where I needed 12 hours of sleep, and naps. I’m here at my desk, writing a bit, playing games, scrolling through twitter (Which, in hindsight, might not have been all that good for me), etc. Why can’t I get up and, restfully, do some dishes? Maybe fold some laundry?

Now the important thing to keep in mind here is that this is ENTIRELY internal dialogue. At no time ever did I feel pressured to do anything outside of recover.

But those brain weasels, man…

Then, yesterday, I started feeling better and that, Reader, is where I mis-stepped. Naturally, if I’m feeling better, I’m clearly done with resting and should immediately resume all normal activities, right? No easing back into the routine. Who needs that? In fact, I’ve let slip some things that I should maybe stretch a little to get caught back up, right?

RIGHT???

Spoiler alert:

Ah, you’re a smart person, Reader. You already know the anser to that, so I won’t waste any electronic space on it.

Suffice it to say that one day of a little bit of extra activity around the house and I’m feeling it pretty hard.

I shouldn’t be surprised, having read the road map of what was going on prior to now, but the ingrained drive to DO ALL THE THINGS is really hard to shake.

Resting is hard work. The problem is that it shouldn’t be.

So I’ve caged the brain weasels (Again) and hopefully, I’ve stashed the key somewhere that’ll take me some time to find.

In the mean time, it’s back to taking care of myself.

Thanks for reading. Be safe out there. Be Excellent to Each other – and yourself.

I’ll see you on Thursday.

###

Be sure to check out the Freebies Page for story Excerpts.

If you’ve read, and enjoyed any of my books, please consider leaving a review:

Weird Wild West

Trials

Predators in Petticoats

I just got back from a two week trip overseas. It was a lot of fun, and I had intended to post today all about it.

But it seems like I’ve brought back an unwarted souvenir and…I’ve got nothing today.

Keep your fingers crossed for me that it’s the common variety creeping crud.

And get some rest if you need it.

For those of you who may be wondering: No, that isn’t a Typo in the title – and I’m not talking about cutting anything, despite it being Halloween earlier this week.

What it is, is the Welsh spelling for “Sauce.”

What does this have to do with anything? Well, let me tell you a story:

I’ve been learning Welsh via DuoLingo. I’m on a 900 day streak, and I’m pretty sure that I could survive in Wales if they didn’t put the English translation on darn near every sign.

This is a good thing because “In Wales” is exactly where I am at the Minute.

More on that later on.

While DuoLingo was teaching me the Welsh words for colors, I came across the concepts of “Red Sauce” and Brown Sauce.”

It was completely out of context, and I had no idea what either of them were.

When I arrived in Wales, I made the decision to jump directly into the culture. I’ve tried as much of the local fare as I could and I discovered a few things: I like Leeks, Welsh Beer, when you can get it, is pretty good, and I learned about Red and Brown sauce.

Here’s how:

We (my wife and I) were at the cafe outside the remains of Castell Harlech (Harlech Castle), looking to get a bite to eat. I opted for a sausage roll, since I was familiar with everything else on the menu. It was at that moment they asked if I wanted Red or Brown sauce.

I somehow managed to maintain a cool exterior, as I thought about which one of these new things I would like to experience (It never occurred to me to try both) and I eventually decided on Red Sauce.

We went to our table with our drinks and I wondered about what was to come.

That was when my wife joked thusly:

I’ll bet you just ordered a hot dog with ketchup.

Now if, some days ago, you noticed a particular disturbance in The Force, that was because I was at the center of the most vehement, and most concentrated ball of denial on the planet. Possibly several planets.

It Could Not Be So. I had not flown clear across an ocean, scaled the towers of this centuries old castle, and felt the robust Welsh Wind upon my face (I really like the wind here, more on that later on perhaps) only to return to this cafe to order a hot dog with ketchup.

Which is, exactly (kinda) what they brought out to me. I say “Kinda” because it didn’t come in a typical hot-dog bun, like you’d expect, and it wasn’t like a Ballpark Frank.

Those differences aside, what I got was, in essence, a hot dog with ketchup.

I am still chuckling about it, even as I type this and, if I forget every other scrap of Welsh, I’ve learned, or will ever learn, I will *Never* forget Red or Brown sauce.

Which, if you’re curious, is:

Saws Coch (Red)

Saws Brown (Only pronounced with a hard ‘O’)

There are two morals to this story.

First (and most important) is that you should be ready, willing, and able to laugh at yourself at any time.

Second is that while it’s good to keep your head in the clouds, to imagine all sorts of new and wonderful things and experiences…It’s also not a bad idea to keep at least one foot on the ground.

Because Ketchup is ketchup, no matter what you call it.

Thanks for reading. Be safe out there. Be Excellent to Each other – and yourself.

I’ll see you on Thursday.

###

Be sure to check out the Freebies Page for story Excerpts.

If you’ve read, and enjoyed any of my books, please consider leaving a review:

Weird Wild West

Trials

Predators in Petticoats

If you’ve been following this blog for a while (Thanks!) or if you’ve glanced through the earlier stuff, you might have noticed that recently I am dropping more posts into the “Life” category than the “Writing” category.

Even if you haven’t noticed such a thing, I have.

Does that mean that I don’t have any more to say about writing? No, I don’t think that’s the case.

I think that, lately the things that I’ve wanted/needed to talk about are more applicable to the bigger picture. It’s been a hard time for everyone these past few years,. I won’t say that creative folk have been harder hit, but that’s the majority of people that I follow on The Socials, so that’s who I’m hearing from.

And what I’m hearing is that the work is still there (It will always be there) but the cycle of focus has shifted. Self-care, Mental Health, and just figuring out where your life is at the minute has come to the fore.

Maybe it should always be there, because I’m seeing some truly beautiful, and inspiring things. I see love and support and empathy and people seeing other people where they are.

And don’t get me wrong. I also think that discourse about the art and craft of writing is important, and it should be present as well. There’s no reason why they cant exist in the same space.

But I think that the pressures of the world – and there are pressures – and our collective responses to them have shifted our perspective.

And I don’t think that’s a bad thing.

As Stephen King puts it: Life isn’t a support system for Art. It’s the other way around.

So if you’re feeling like you’ve got nothing left in the tank after Living…That’s ok. You’ve done what you could. Tomorrow, or maybe the next day, or even the few after that…you’ll find that you’ve got a bit of breathing room for the Art. Take it when you get it. Trust that things will find their balance. Use this focus on life to examine yours. Maybe you can speed up the state of equilibrium by shifting some stuff off the scales.

Ultimately, without You, there’s none of Your Art – whatever it may be. Take care of that first. The rest will follow.

Thanks for reading. Be safe out there. Be Excellent to Each other – and yourself.

I’ll see you on Thursday.

###

Be sure to check out the Freebies Page for story Excerpts.

If you’ve read, and enjoyed any of my books, please consider leaving a review:

Weird Wild West

Trials

Predators in Petticoats

Today’s post is an appreciation post for someone who I don’t mention all that often: Future Me.

Ok, there’s also an apology that needs to happen because there have been times when I haven’t been all that cool to Future Me, but he always shows up. He picks up the pieces, he’s constantly doing the dishes, and he’s doing his best for Present Me.

So here it is:

I will work to become a person you can be proud of.

I love you, Brother.

Now you might be reading this and thinking to yourself, “Wow. Someone had a rough night.” But that’s not the case.

I’ve said before that this blog is as much for me as it is for you, Reader, and this thought about the relationship between Present Me and Future Me has been bubbling around the periphery of my thoughts for some time now.

Today, when the seasons are on the cusp of change, seemed to be a good time to bring them to the front, poke at them, and see what happens.

That’s what this is. This is me recognizing that I haven’t always been as forward thinking as I could have been. It is also me admitting that I’m not perfectly disciplined. There will inevitably be days where Future Me will have to pick up from where Present Me fell short. This is me acknowledging this and, more importantly, accepting that I will fall short of the ideal from time to time.

What I can do, though, is work to keep those days to a minimum. We both deserve that much, and I think we both realize that what really matters is the attempt. The decision to move toward something better – even if it’s a single step – matters, and is worth acknowledging.

Thanks for reading. Be safe out there. Be Excellent to Each other – and yourself.

I’ll see you on Thursday.

###

Be sure to check out the Freebies Page for story Excerpts.

If you’ve read, and enjoyed any of my books, please consider leaving a review:

Weird Wild West

Trials

Predators in Petticoats