Sep 24
What a week. Not my favorite. Mind your self-care, friends. Make doubly sure you are getting the fiddly bits slotted into the right places so you keel is even. It makes everything less onerous. Perhaps not easy, per se, but much easier than otherwise. Let us say the Wee Horde is adjusting to change, perhaps better than I am.
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It’s been a week, and I’m tired. Lots tired. It’s unfair how much more tired I am than last week, and the week before. And the week before that. It’s tired, all the way down. I blame Mrs. Dave, for marrying me, the Wee Horde, for being alive and needing parenting so badly, and the universe. For existing for me to be tired in, mostly. I think that’s reasonable. No? More sleep would be good, and more writing, too.
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I’m alive. This last week has been … a challenge. The littles are just now into the swing of full-time school, and I’m trying to figure out my own head space in that. It’s not proving particularly easy, but then, transition never really is. Adding to that, the weather has taken a turn for the unpleasant, and I’d just gotten used to taking a walk every day. I hate walking in the rain. It’s unpleasant, and everything’s gray out, and there’s too much water in the air.
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It’s Tuesday, again. The last Tuesday of freedom, after which we here at Caer Dave will be bound once again to the iron wheel of the academic year. Rulers barking knuckles, cryptic and ominous notes home from the Instructors of the Young, the vacant stares of the Progeny and hiding in closets in the vain hope that the glowing-eyed, tow-headed monsters won’t- wait, that’s the wrong story.
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I love my people. And there are six adults, two children, and a malamute in my house right now, and I’m losing my mind just a shred or two faster than I would otherwise. Our neck of the woods starts school later than many others, and so Wee Dave and Wee-er Dave won’t be starting their respective classes until next week (and I’ve just realized they almost certainly aren’t ready, or rather, we aren’t ready for them to start) and they’ve got the End Of Summer antsy-ness going on. All of which are decidedly back-burner-ing the ol’ writing. Read more
Mom and Pop Dave are arriving on the morrow, and Caer Dave is (mostly) ready. Fortunately, my ‘rents aren’t judgy, so the crud along the molding may stay there, and the bits of clutter, too. Kitchen’s clean, though, and my computer desk is back up (though now in the laundry roomoffice, my desktop is moved atop it, and I can *just* stretch my hand over and grab whiskey. Not that I’d do that while writing, whatever Hemingway says.
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I finished the beds this past weekend. Sanding. So much sanding. I think I could build a beach out of the sawdust from my sander. And then staining. And assembly. Disassembly and transport. Reassembly. A quick Home Despot run by Mrs. Dave to acquire more pocket screws and plywood for the bunk boards. Finally, the beds are assembled and installed, made, and sleepable. Half a pool noodle is working well to keep the Wee Horde from a surprise plummet during the hours of darkness. And they love them. Which means the toys are out of the laundry room and upstairs, and I’ll be setting up my computer desk in the near future. And the Great Garage Re-Org can move forward. Finally. Read more
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