I had to laugh. I couldn’t go to bed last night unless I’d posted something. So I dug through my poetry folder and found a cranky rant from 2006. Boom, up it went. Now I have a post-per-day record of four in a row.
This wasn’t anywhere on my list of resolutions for the new year. I have to see how far I can take this. One way to do it is to treat this as an actual web log, which is where we get the word “blog” in the first place.
In other words, oh, let me tell you about my week.....
New Year’s Day is a strange holiday, as there’s nothing really going on but people recuperating from the party the night before, and perhaps the Christmas season as a whole. Still, like Christmas itself, it doesn’t occupy a calendar day of the week. It’s outside space-time, at least as far as my foggy reckoning goes, so it feels weird to mention the snowstorm on Monday, which was New Year’s Eve, which brought the severe cold snap on New Year’s Day, and here it is, Friday in another year, and we’re just getting through it.
We learned the hard way that a separate pipe from the city line feeds the kitchen sink, so we were washing our dishes in the bathtub until our son went into the subzero-Fahrenheit crawl space with a heat gun to thaw out the hot water line. It wasn’t as bad as it could have been, given that our gas furnace isn’t working (it turns out it never really has the entire time we’ve been here), but kerosene for the portable heaters is expensive. The wood pellet stove runs nonstop except for the hour and a half during the warmest part of the day (e.g., 22°F/ -5°C today, and quite balmy considering it only got up to 11°F/ -11°C yesterday).
We’d taken some pride in not running up the credit cards during Christmas. There goes all those savings and more. I’m grateful we had a jump on it, however small.
Somehow I’ve managed to get some writing in. The notes I’d written to myself throughout my last bender on New Year’s Eve have been incorporated into the appropriate chapters of The Wrong Kind of Dead. These are future chapters, by the way. This isn’t retrofitting. I’m filling in the end of this book.
I note with some amusement that the Christmas season technically isn’t over until tomorrow. At least we found a way to prolong it. Once all this mess is fixed, I’ll be more than ready to tuck into the year. Which, in a way, I already am.
No alcohol, no tobacco, and a blogpost per day. The first week of 2019 hasn’t been a total wash.
This wasn’t anywhere on my list of resolutions for the new year. I have to see how far I can take this. One way to do it is to treat this as an actual web log, which is where we get the word “blog” in the first place.
In other words, oh, let me tell you about my week.....
 |
| It’s a very chill town. |
New Year’s Day is a strange holiday, as there’s nothing really going on but people recuperating from the party the night before, and perhaps the Christmas season as a whole. Still, like Christmas itself, it doesn’t occupy a calendar day of the week. It’s outside space-time, at least as far as my foggy reckoning goes, so it feels weird to mention the snowstorm on Monday, which was New Year’s Eve, which brought the severe cold snap on New Year’s Day, and here it is, Friday in another year, and we’re just getting through it.
We learned the hard way that a separate pipe from the city line feeds the kitchen sink, so we were washing our dishes in the bathtub until our son went into the subzero-Fahrenheit crawl space with a heat gun to thaw out the hot water line. It wasn’t as bad as it could have been, given that our gas furnace isn’t working (it turns out it never really has the entire time we’ve been here), but kerosene for the portable heaters is expensive. The wood pellet stove runs nonstop except for the hour and a half during the warmest part of the day (e.g., 22°F/ -5°C today, and quite balmy considering it only got up to 11°F/ -11°C yesterday).
We’d taken some pride in not running up the credit cards during Christmas. There goes all those savings and more. I’m grateful we had a jump on it, however small.
 |
| Always a pretty drive to Del Norte from Monte. |
Somehow I’ve managed to get some writing in. The notes I’d written to myself throughout my last bender on New Year’s Eve have been incorporated into the appropriate chapters of The Wrong Kind of Dead. These are future chapters, by the way. This isn’t retrofitting. I’m filling in the end of this book.
I note with some amusement that the Christmas season technically isn’t over until tomorrow. At least we found a way to prolong it. Once all this mess is fixed, I’ll be more than ready to tuck into the year. Which, in a way, I already am.
No alcohol, no tobacco, and a blogpost per day. The first week of 2019 hasn’t been a total wash.
 |
| Keeping the glowing heart of the season alight. |
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