It’s been a strange, sometimes frustrating week. I had one–one!–very good working day, and it has given me a hunger for more. I should be content that the Sekrit Projekt has not been killed outright, and has indeed passed what I think is the middle of its curve. Well, not really, the true break-point is the death of a major character…but good enough.
I’m still deeply tired of all the bullshit that isn’t writing, and there are two books I want very badly to get to. I just have to finish the two I’m writing now, revise the half-a-dozen in the pipeline, get a great deal of administrative work out of the way, and and and…
No rest for the weary, the wicked, or the writers. Ever, world without end, amen. Thank the gods for coffee.
It’s hellebore season, and I love everything about these plants. I could be content with a mostly-hellebore garden, frankly, save for the irritating fact that slugs consider them a delicacy. And I’ve already got hostas and roses about so I might as well continue with those too. Still, maybe this is the year I’ll get a few more Lenten roses in. It’s nice to think about, as well as the prospect of a blueberry bush or two where there’s now a surfeit of sunlight since the cedars are gone. (Which irks me to no end even now; they were wonderful and someone else’s neglect did them in. Alas.)
At least it looks like we’ll be back to proper rainy weather after a bit of a freeze; I knew we were due for at least one more heavy frost if not a downright east-wind howler. Even the cherry trees are Getting Ideas now, and I can see hints of purple on a few magnolias. The season marches on, and today I have to write an Uncomfortable Declaration of Affection in the Sekrit Projekt.
There’s that to look forward to. And the weekend will see more incremental progress on the short-story anthology. Slow and steady will win my particular race, even if I near expire of annoyance.
See you next week…