August 29, 2004
what I'm thinking and doing § what I'm listening to § what I'm reading
what I'm writing § retrospective: old journal
I hate this time of year. The weather is gorgeous (a mix of hot sunny clear days and a day or two of rain and cooler weather hints that, yes, autumn will appear again sometime soon). As I type Sophia is asleep in a patch of sun on my left foot, probably not for long, though, because whenever I move the tiniest bit she twitches as though with even the slightest encouragement she will leap to her feet and be off and away. My study smells alternately of the wind coming in from Puget Sound (sometimes with the added tang of the compost bin not too far from my window) and of the lavender I have drying in my closet.
Sophia did move, but not far: she's at my side where the patch of sun has shifted. I can't quite stretch down enough to pat her, which means she's likely to stay there longer.
So it's lovely, and I finally have some time to myself, and...I have to go back to work on Wednesday. That's the worm in the apple (well, perhaps aside from the compost smell).
And another summer is over when I didn't paint the kitchen or the dining room or our basement bedroom or the living room. I didn't wash the windows or finish cleaning out my study or even my email though I've made a dent in all those things. (Oops, I lied, not the painting, no dents there at all.)
I did work on my novel and make significant progress. I'm nearly halfway through the revision now. I did spent some significant time with friends and family. Did get my house a little cleaner than it has been mostly (gods bless Swiffer). I did a little (not enough) yardwork. I did survive another year of the inspiration/toil/delight/suffering that is my side of Clarion West. I read a lot of books, some of them very entertaining.
I didn't spend enough time hanging out at the beach, though, listening to the waves and watching the light on them or walking in the woods.
last week's thinking and doing § next week's thinking and doing
Listening to lots of stuff while doing a bunch of Ectophiles' Guide work. I did the entry for Kirsty MacColl, which I should have done years ago. And a few others.
last week's listening § next week's listening
Jennifer Stevenson's trash sex magic is the tale of a community of misfits living on the banks of a river where developers have started working and want to buy out the community. They cut down the tree that is a central power in the area, that is Raedawn Somershoe's lover and Raedawn and her mother are a sexual force to be reckoned with. Gradually odd things begin happening to everyone, especially Alexander Caebeau, an emigrant from the Bahamas working for the construction company. An odd and compelling novel, but its power is diluted a little for me by the way it spotlights events for a few too many characters.
last week's reading § next week's reading
Progressing well with the revisions--getting near to halfway done. My plan is to be halfway done by the end of the Labour Day weekend.
last week's writing § next week's writing
Still on hiatus. Sorry.
last week's old journal § next week's old journal
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