slacker

I've been a bit slack with the posting, past couple of weeks. Which means I've been busy with things that require a bit more long-term concentration. Not to mention.

Reminds me of how you end up not writing to people. How you can go a year or so with regular letters (younger readers note: like emails, but with paper and stamps); and then you encounter some life-changing event, and suddenly you can't fit letters into your schedule any more.

Things need to settle, like Nesquik(tm) in the box. Or Cornflakes(tm). I haven't been sleeping well this week, either. Elodie keeps waking up and coming into bed with us, and she likes to have her head touching Babette and her feet kicking me. Before you know it, two hours have gone by, and you're lying there feeling consumptive with the dawn.

With the St. Guthlac thing, I'm at a stage I often reach with writing, where I need to transition between one section and another,and I need to build a bridge, something to get me there. But I'm not sure at the moment if where I'm going is that interesting. I've found in the past, that the bridge ends up being more interesting that where it leads to. Used to be what I called my half-bottle of John Daniels passages, bits I wrote on autopilot, or when slightly squiffy, and you come back and read them later and they seem better than what you usually write.

But I don't do half-bottles of anything, except low alcohol beer, these days. Not even a half bottle of milk.

And then, sometimes, people just stand at your desk and hold an impromptu meeting, and you can't blog with freedom. That's happened a lot lately, too.