7yr-old daughter: “Hey Dad, I’ve left you a puzzle when you start writing!”
Me: “Really? What kind of puzzle?”
7: “Can you find something at your desk that shouldn’t be there?”
… solid puzzle. It took me nearly five minutes to figure it out. I think I’ll leave it there and let the kid imagine she’s stumped her Old Man.
Back to writing, researching, and job searching. Hopefully, I’ll get things sorted out enough to host a couple of gaming sessions. I’ve missed my players.
We’ve made it nearly a week into delivering pizza again, folks.
And… it’s not going well.
When I first had this job (20…years ago), the pay was decent enough to afford a 2-bedroom apartment on my own. But those days are long gone, and it’s extremely disheartening. It’s spurning on the drive to consider going into a school program for IT work.
The desire to work from home and be around my family more often is also a big factor.
When there’s stress, there’s escapism! So, I’ve made progress in the story-writing.
Time to get some sleep, folks. Stay safe out there.
Bakka wandered into the subdivision behind our property and was taken in by a family. Much as I’ll miss having a carport cat to patrol the yard for snakes, I’m glad he is being taken care of.
But then my daughter told me that his bowl was still being emptied at night, so we waited to see what had decided to take his place.
Me, a Southerner: “It’s still cute!”
Welp, at least now the property is being patrolled for ticks and other insects that I’d rather not have to deal with. Possums are actually good critters to have around, especially here. They don’t carry rabies, contrary to old stories.
Looks pretty young, too. It kicks in my sheltering mind. So, we’ll let the guy be.
Stay safe out there, folks. Check your carports when you go outside at night.
With everyone stressed that I haven’t been working, I’ve taken a job back at the first place to employ me.
Yes, I’ve stepped back 25 years and went to deliver pizza.
… they don’t pay like they used to. Gas prices aren’t what they used to be, either.
Eye twitches
I’ll keep working on studying for certifications and writing my stories. It might start becoming chaotic when I make posts, but I’ll be making an effort to keep daily posts and my gaming schedule.
Stay safe out there, folks. It’s going to be a long week.
The Sunday was spent having to set the mower for another damn repair, and I’ve made it a personal point to look for holes dug by critters. With the evening drawing nigh, Sarah snapped a picture of me starting to relax (I.E. fall asleep on the couch).
Yeah… I need to brush the hair. I know.
Stay safe out there, folks. Going to get some well-earned rest.
Folks, it has finally stopped raining here for more than 24 hours. The grass has finally dried out enough to not destroy the blades.
We had to stop last time before we could get the back area of the property, and a week of rain turned it into… well…
Welcome to the Jungle!
It would have been amusing to watch the corgi try to navigate this and disappear, but this being Louisiana, I’m not going to risk any of my family or animals in what could be potential hunting ground for the myriad of snakes with whom I share this biosphere.
Of course, when I get about a third of the way through this chore, the riding mower hit a divot, pitched the deck at an angle, and broke a damn spindle.
This damn thing.
After a surprise visit from my father, running to a parts store, and barking our knuckles trying to break the bolts, we managed to replace the spindle and put in a new blade.
And would you believe it if I said this lasted for all of an hour before a second divot was discovered? The hard way?
Tall grass and burrowing critters will make for a hectic day of lawn-mowing.
Ugh.
Stay safe out there, folks. I’m going to walk around with soil and fill some holes.
The corgi is 12 years old now, and with Casey and Joe gone, he has assumed the title of Old Man.
Dazed and Confused is more than a movie title in this house; it’s a way of life.
He’s mostly blind and deaf, and he gets confused if you move too quickly around him. I have to herd the herding dog around the house to get him to his bowl or kennel, which now is kept open. Once he finds it, he refuses to leave it and I can’t really blame the guy; that small den must be a comfort.
He’ll be under my desk for most of today, and that’ll be worrisome. He nips at my house slippers if I move unexpectedly.
Stay safe out there, folks. Got a morning of writing before the day is taken over by chores.
When I had originally written this short story, planning to submit it to magazines, I learned that my maximum word count was 20,000. That first draft was in the 12K range, and was (now that it’s been beta-read and critiqued) understandably unpublishable.
But as I’ve progressed, I’ve mentioned that the rewrite keeps exceeding my expected benchmarks. I had planned on only 16K for this second edition, and…
Well. Well then.
There’s… four or five more sections, basically chapters, left to the story, and it doesn’t look like I can pare it down through edits. It’ll go through a few rounds when it’s finished, to be sure, but it looks like I’ll have a short novel on my hands.
Maybe it can go the Louis L’Amour route and be a pocket-novel for sci-fi nerds who want a quick read for an afternoon.
Stay safe out there, folks! I’ll keep whittling away at this rewrite.
Swift's Corner 