It's half past October.
Gee, it's been a while since I wrote a diary.
Life goes on, pretty much as always.
We got the house painted, and one decorative panel that was beginning to show some rot replaced. And then painted. The carpenter did a fine job, so we've engaged him to rebuild the back porch. That's something I could, in principle, do myself, but it ain't gonna happen soon, and if he does it, it'll also be pretty. Besides, we're stimulating the economy. Next up: a scary inspection of the electricals, which leave much to be desired.
The curate at our church left recently. He'd been there seven years, and it was time, at least speaking of his career, for him to be independent. But we'll miss his organizing skills, and his management of the softball team. He organized a couple of series of lectures in pubs and bars about philosophy and theology, which were well attended by the 20- and 30-something crowd, and even won some awards. We wish him well.
Into his unfillable shoes comes a new curate, who's most recently been serving a church in DCia, but ultimately comes from Mississippi. We hope he turns out okay, but with the above origin, it's somewhat difficult to be hopeful. And there's no way he can squeeze his family of five into the condo across the street from the church.
Hm. Creativity. I'm in the middle (for various values of "middle) on several projects.
We have tickets for a reading by Barbara Ehrenreich tomorrow. Should be fun.
Friday night, the woman who taught my novel workshop a year ago is having a book release party. Details at map.audreybethstein.com. Sounds like an interesting read; right up my alley in some ways. And she certainly had interesting things to say about the process of writing.
Sun! Woo!
With the waning of the growing season comes a change in what's in the weekly farm box. We're told this is it for tomatoes (and it's been a bad year for them anyway, what with Late Blight in the area). So now, for a while, kale and spinach type things, and turnips and potatoes and squashes into the winter. And then they'll be bringing stuff up the coast from further south.
I like google calendar.
One of the odd things about having my office overlooking one of the more popular doors to this place is that lots of folks come out and use the deck as a telephone booth (since cell reception is crap inside the building). Yesterday it was a woman whose English, while very good, is not native, and who tends to study people's faces closely while conversing with them. It was odd, watching her talk, phone pressed tightly to her ear, gesturing with her free hand.
We need more long weekends. This one recently past was wonderful. We (read: toxicfur) got a lot of yard work done, and I fixed up a few things around the house, wrote some stuff, chatted with the carpenter about exactly what we want, porch-wise. We took the dogs hiking, which they loved. I did not work on my WTFC entry.
I have two largish projects at work which seem about equally pressing, and neither of which has immanent deadlines. I'm unmotivated to do much to either one. This is me, multitasking. Hear me whimper.
It's lunchtime. Enjoy.
Life goes on, pretty much as always.
We got the house painted, and one decorative panel that was beginning to show some rot replaced. And then painted. The carpenter did a fine job, so we've engaged him to rebuild the back porch. That's something I could, in principle, do myself, but it ain't gonna happen soon, and if he does it, it'll also be pretty. Besides, we're stimulating the economy. Next up: a scary inspection of the electricals, which leave much to be desired.
The curate at our church left recently. He'd been there seven years, and it was time, at least speaking of his career, for him to be independent. But we'll miss his organizing skills, and his management of the softball team. He organized a couple of series of lectures in pubs and bars about philosophy and theology, which were well attended by the 20- and 30-something crowd, and even won some awards. We wish him well.
Into his unfillable shoes comes a new curate, who's most recently been serving a church in DCia, but ultimately comes from Mississippi. We hope he turns out okay, but with the above origin, it's somewhat difficult to be hopeful. And there's no way he can squeeze his family of five into the condo across the street from the church.
Hm. Creativity. I'm in the middle (for various values of "middle) on several projects.
- A novel with the working title But Before That, on time travel, based on a short story or two I submitted to WFCs here, and then expanded into a NaNo in 2007, and then rewrote, finishing about a year ago. It needs more work. I'm kinda burned out on the project.
- Yet another diary kind of thing that's going noplace.
- A few characters that refuse to be herded, or take much initiative to make something of their story.
We have tickets for a reading by Barbara Ehrenreich tomorrow. Should be fun.
Friday night, the woman who taught my novel workshop a year ago is having a book release party. Details at map.audreybethstein.com. Sounds like an interesting read; right up my alley in some ways. And she certainly had interesting things to say about the process of writing.
Sun! Woo!
With the waning of the growing season comes a change in what's in the weekly farm box. We're told this is it for tomatoes (and it's been a bad year for them anyway, what with Late Blight in the area). So now, for a while, kale and spinach type things, and turnips and potatoes and squashes into the winter. And then they'll be bringing stuff up the coast from further south.
I like google calendar.
One of the odd things about having my office overlooking one of the more popular doors to this place is that lots of folks come out and use the deck as a telephone booth (since cell reception is crap inside the building). Yesterday it was a woman whose English, while very good, is not native, and who tends to study people's faces closely while conversing with them. It was odd, watching her talk, phone pressed tightly to her ear, gesturing with her free hand.
We need more long weekends. This one recently past was wonderful. We (read: toxicfur) got a lot of yard work done, and I fixed up a few things around the house, wrote some stuff, chatted with the carpenter about exactly what we want, porch-wise. We took the dogs hiking, which they loved. I did not work on my WTFC entry.
I have two largish projects at work which seem about equally pressing, and neither of which has immanent deadlines. I'm unmotivated to do much to either one. This is me, multitasking. Hear me whimper.
It's lunchtime. Enjoy.
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