I’ve mentioned before that I also blog over at my friend, Tom Knighton’s blog, By Spear & Axe, usually about self-improvement related to physical pursuits. In addition, I’m in the process of revamping my own – long abandoned – blog and site in order to further my climb up the Official Alphabetical List of Author Success (I’m somewhere around N-list, for the curious: some of those categories blur for those of us strictly indie). I’ve been working with a friend who specializes in small business consulting in order to teach myself how to think more in line with my goals.
The other thing-
Before I get into it, I had to sit down with the Wee Horde this morning for a business meeting.
“I know you miss Mommy, and you’re upset that she’s gone, again.” Mrs. Dave vamoosed for parts more conducive to Freedom and Democracy a couple days back, and we had a pretty solid day that morning, and then it really sunk in to Wee and Wee-er Dave’s heads that Mommy Is Gone, Again. And … while all heck hasn’t broken loose, it’s certainly been more stressful for all three of us.
I’m starting to believe normal really is just a setting on a device of some sort, somewhere. Unless, perhaps, you live in a cave, somewhere miles or more from the nearest other human. And don’t have any relationships or concomitant responsibilities. I don’t think I’ve had two very similar weeks in the last couple of years.
I think we’re back into routine. And I’ve got my head wrapped around it. Which is nice. Feels good. Of course, Mrs. Dave heads off again in a couple weeks, and then there’s LibertyCon, and the littles will be out of school for the summer. Which means and entirely *new* routine to which I’ll get to adjust. Joy. Seriously, I think I’m going to lose my preferred hermitliness method of existence through sheer chaos of life. Which is a little strange, as that’s how I’m going to finish all those books I’m not currently writing.
Wee Dave turned five, recently, and I’m still not recovered. Small creatures are exhausting, regardless of how many legs they have (Wee Dave only has the two, you’ll all be happy to know), but we herded a ramble of nearing double digits for the natal anniversary shindig. I’m awfully glad that’s only going to happen a couple of times a year. Early to bed for a while, I’m planning. Still, only a couple of minor incidents, and the paint (Mrs. Dave is a courageous woman, let me tell you) stayed almost entirely contained, and off all the clothing, as far as I know.
Dave really tired.
The Wee Horde and I retrieved Mrs. Dave from the airport Saturday last, and we haven’t really stopped moving since. There was an art project (successful), an Avengers date (also successful, though I now have Thoughts and Feelings), and adjustment (ongoing). We’ve got a few weeks before the next Adjustment. Dammit. Read more
Talking about swords is kinda difficult. Case in point: last week I tried to give a definition, and ended up skewing off into the weeds of history almost immediately. In discussing this very difficulty with Tom (who has just founded the Albany Study Group of Schola Saint George) he suggested I leave you with the definition with which I started last week, and tell you to go an prosper, under the assumption that suffering produces better art. Now, I didn’t tell him to get bent (I figure his mettle is better than *that*) and I’m not going to let him know his oh-so-clever japes actually helped. Read more