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Posts from the ‘KILTED DAVE’ Category

Deeper Trouble

The weather has turned. I’m wearing flannel, and a coat to keep the rain off. The furnace has been turned on. I’m not … entirely … upset about this. I prefer being dry, myself, but I also enjoy the shift in seasons. Mrs. Dave is home this week, though not next, and not for a few after that. Also, there are costumes to plan and make, and school fund-raisers to raise. Basically, I’m heckin’ busy, fren, and I’m not sure when (or really if) that’s going to change.
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Cracks Appear

Mrs. Dave is off traveling again, as of this morning. I’m not entirely thrilled with this, and Wee Dave is distinctly unenthused. Wee-er Dave could not be reached for comment, having disappeared into her classroom to find her best-friend-of-the-week. I expect that bird to come home to roost between retrieval and the Witching Hour. Still, they’re both in school for a good chunk of the day, and I’m well stocked up on mac’n’cheese and whiskey. We’ll split those supplies, though. I don’t need much pasta, after all, and they just can’t hold their liquor.
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Hard Labor

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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Re-Orientation

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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Orientation

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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Consigned to Hell

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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Lay of the Land

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