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My dear nieces (accidentally and with great affection) gave me a Christmas present of a terrible cold in which my head was like a TARDIS of snot, so I've fallen behind in some things, including blogging. (The TARDIS, for those of you who aren't Doctor Who fans, is bigger on the inside than it is on the outside, such that it's capable of containing unimaginably huge quantities of stuff you would never think possible if you're standing outside it. And by the way, I'm not as obsessed with Doctor Who as it might seem given recent mentions on my blog (though I do rather love it). It's more that a character I'm writing about is often wearing Doctor Who pajamas, so it's always on my mind.)
As colds go, this one was massive, but also dreamy and contemplative, possibly because it coincided with the New Year. I should have some resolution thoughts to blog before too long. For now, I'll merely mention that my dictation software keeps insisting that I cooked a student in my crockpot this weekend, while I swear I merely cooked an (entirely legal) stew. And here are a couple pictures from my writing desk.
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| Local potter Tilla Rodemann, whose work I adore, made this teapot. |
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| At the end of every workday, I write up a tiny plan for the next day. "FORGET ABOUT TIME" -- because dwelling on how infernally long a revision is taking does me no good whatsoever. It will take however long it takes. Journey, not destination; maybe if I write this to myself a thousand times, someday I'll understand it on a cellular level. |