One More

Grape leaf in rain Rain, finally. Whispering along the roof, singing in the branches, the clouds hiding that big yellow thing in the sky. I am thinking the rains have moved in for the fall, and it’s a glorious thing. Now yesterday’s edginess makes sense.

Odd Trundles is prancing through the house on his usual morning burp-bark-a-thon, scolding any piece of furniture that may be thinking of moving or changing in any way. Change is BAD, according to Trundles, and he likes to be proactive. Since the weather has shifted, things inside the house might be Getting Ideas, and it’s up to Trundles to make sure they don’t go further into ACTUAL CHANGE. B, of course, is sleeping to grow her winter coat–she blew her summer coat last week, and the fluff all over the house has reached drifting proportions even with daily brushings. So she just makes an irritated noise when Trundles skitters out the door to being another round of prance-burp-bark.

The characters are talking again, too. Reluctantly, but I knew it was only a matter of outwaiting them. So much of the writing game is patience and persistent slow effort. Even if it’s just a two-hundred-word day, that’s two hundred more words than one had the day before. The accretions mount, and once they’re big enough you can shape and sculpt them.

As I’ve written this, Odd’s trundlings have slowed, and he has finally collapsed on my office floor, doing the next thing on his daily list: holding the carpet down. One can never tell when it might get it into its mind to rise up and start wrapping everything in the house with nylon fiber, so Odd valiantly keeps a watch upon it. When the flat pancake zombies–or the ankle-biting undead–show up, he’ll be ready. Miss B is in the hall, sprawled out and sleeping off her breakfast. She’s getting older, and as much as she likes running with me, she also likes days off. It used to be she all but chewed at the walls unless taken for at least a daily walk, but now she values the occasional break.

They’re both getting older. I dread the day this reaches its natural consequence, but at least I have today with them.

And that’s one more day than I had yesterday.