In Which Our Heroine Finds Time Slippery Again

22 July 2005

My mom said that working on our yard, mowing and weeding and all that, would make it feel like ours. It didn't; after all of last season, I still felt like I was going to have someone run out and shout, "Hey! You damn kids! Get away from there!" when I was mangling pruning our front bushes. But let me tell you: nothing makes a place feel like home like standing out in it in the rain wearing a long T-shirt and a pair of sandals, hair uncombed, glasses still on, 6:30 in the morning, urging another mammal to excrete. It is very hard to feel a stranger to a place after that.

Yesterday afternoon, our old college friend Twig was in town, so he came over and hung out, and that was good. He was still very much Twig. We didn't talk about all the same stuff as we would have in college -- we didn't own houses when we were in college, didn't have grandparents whose aging was becoming more clear. But you can extrapolate from a curve, and Twig is Twig is Twig.


Okay, so a few days ran away with me. Tired. Handling things a bit at a time, as I can manage it. I sold a story, or rather, a series of linked very-short stories. "Things We Sell to Tourists" will appear in a future issue of Aeon. So that was definitely very good.

Today we'll have some more college friends in to see Ista us. And that'll be good. Also Stella will bring the biped to meet the quadruped, and I expect good things of that as well. And I should finally finish The Uncrowned King and be able to start something else. This not finishing of books: it's for the birds. I don't know how slow readers stand it.

Back to Novel Gazing.

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