May 14
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
We’re still alive, here at Caer Dave. The last assault was repulsed with a barrage of cupcakes. It was close for a bit, there, but one of the battle pucks managed to turn on the television, and the Horde is nothing if not easily distracted by the sweet and the shiny. Unfortunately, the ongoing vegetal threat has brought us all a great deal of discomfort. Wee Dave’s cough has been mistaken for the cry of the hunting hellhound. Wee-er Dave’s sinuses are an ever-giving wellspring of life-giving fluid (well, it’s fluid, and stuff can grow on it *shudder*). And me? Dave is fighting off a full-blown sinus infection through frequent application of saline wash, pseudoephedrine, and that wunderdrug: Afrin. With some success, I’m pleased to relate. Read more
Tired. Long week. The children’s disparate reactions to Mrs. Dave’s absence are exhausting. I’m doing the thing where I run headlong into my own limitations, again. I’m finding it irritating. So, per the Irreverend’s advice, I’m lowering my expectations.
Read more
It’s been an entire week since Mrs. Dave left us. Food stocks are low. I have part of a jar of olives, two meat sticks, some salt, and a jar of Luxardo cherries, left. The Barbarian Horde ransacked the refrigerator almost immediately, and have begun waylaying passing stroller-pushing Military Mommies and ransoming them for candy. The ravening howls are indescribable, and I’ll hear them in my sleep until the day I die. I’ve built myself a barricade of books and cookware. If I don’t survive this, tell Mrs. Dave I tried.
Oh, no. I hear the patter of ‘orrible, little feet … Read more
Off the wagon, more or less. Especially if you consider writing an addiction. I’ve been doing a lot of head work recently. Outlining the Wuxia Western novels, research, etc. And family. Oh, Lordy. Last weekend we were (as previously mentioned) in Connecticut for a thing. I managed to convince several of our smallish horde to join me at Frank Pepe’s for genuine New Haven style pizza, and we all agreed it was good freakin’ pie. (It ought to be. They’ve only been making it for nearly a century in their 14’x14’ coal-fired ovens. Highly recommended.) Read more
-or-
Swords, Pt. 2
Last week’s post is feeding right into this one, though it may not seem like it should. Lemme ‘splain. The holidays last year were more than a little disruptive here at Caer Dave. There was travel (so much travel). Mrs. Dave returned from overseas. Wee and Wee-er Dave were both out of, and then back into school. Sleep was disrupted, routines were broken, schedules feel by the wayside. The usual, really. I rolled with life by dropping my weight training work, and it showed. Not so much in the mass department, so much as the mood, attitude, and focus that consistent training improve. Also, the writing. The writing dropped off. Kinda. More below. Read more
accordingtohoyt
TXRed
Amanda
Brad R. Torgersen
davefreer
elliewferguson
Dorothy Grant
Jonathan LaForce
Kate Paulk
kilteDave
Margaret Ball
Pam Uphoff
Blake Smith
Peter Grant
Cedar Sanderson
