Sharp eyed readers will recognize this photo from 2017. Well, it looks the same now but without any sun. Snow is pouring down and my spirits are at the seasonal low ebb.
You all have tracked the progress of the Somme Offensive of my budding writing career, the now completed but still inadequate outline of “Demons.”
And Lord knows you’ve heard me cry about the weather. Move, some would say. Trust me, I’ve thought about it. Where? California? Sky high housing prices, earthquakes and wildfires. Alabama? Hurricanes and snakes. Florida? Ditto on hurricanes, and even bigger snakes. New England? Worse weather than here, and way more expensive. The Plains? Flat, and I like my hills. The Pacific Northwest? Rain nearly every day, weather that’s actually gloomier than the Ohio Valley. Texas? Shades of brown for eight hours.
No, I think I’ll stick it out, best the devil you know.
The good thing about this being February is that it’s followed by March, which leads into April. Eventually this morphs into May through July, which can be glorious weather in these parts.
Sooo… things will be looking up after this rough patch.
I’m confident that I’ll eventually conquer the “demon” (pun borrowed from a friend) of a problem I’m having with my book, and I’ll scrape together the funds to see it published at some point.
While I figure out the Rubik’s Cube of putting something together that I don’t mind showing to you all, there are the collaborations out there that hold the primary slot. I’ve shown you all a few samples of that work, if you scroll down through the archives you’ll find them.
So I don’t know why “Demons” has my tail in a twist, it’s meant as a mental exercise and a secondary focus.
I think it’s the snow. Can’t remember who wrote it or exactly what it was about, but I read a short story once called “Terminator Dust,” a phrase for the white crap, which featured prominently in the story. I like the phrase. When the white stuff comes down, everything grinds to a halt. Get enough of it, and you are completely housebound.
For my readers in Australia, imagine deep volcanic ash that covers everything, gets into everything, and melts in your living room, making cold little puddles just waiting for the careless to put their stocking feet into. It forms dirty mountains in parking lots, and makes driving treacherous. Just walking the dog becomes a chore. Unless you feel like freezing your butt off, you have to layer up. Then put on boots. And of course the dog feels like playing, so you stand there and hope the mutt does her business so you can go back in to where it doesn’t hurt to breathe.
Of course, a week or two ago when it was -21C she didn’t feel like playing, so that was good. But hey, -21C without the wind chill factored in. Need I say more.
But spring is coming. Kind of the opposite of the famous phrase from Game of Thrones, which I’m happy of.
“Winter is coming.” The hell with that. It’s here.
I think sometimes that The Wall is right over the next hill, the Black Watch recruits down at the high school, I saw Gilly and Sam at the gas station, and Jon Snow’s stabbing was on News 9.
Soon it will be green again.