This has been a very productive week. Motoring along with my revised outline of Never, getting a fair amount of reading done, and exercise accomplished every day but one (and that was because of a fairly severe storm, and my laziness that made me not want to do anything inside the house. Must get hold of some weights so I have options on rainy days).
Links for the week:
The Australian SF Snapshot is running again, and the first two entries made me cry: In memorium for Sara Douglass and Paul Haines.
It’s a Sunday morning. The kidlet and I have been relaxing in bed with the iPad for a while, and are now up and about. He’s currently (slowly) eating breakfast and playing with trains, while I am on the computer, having eaten my own breakfast. Spotify is running 80s radio for me. The husband will be back from a fishing trip later on today, and everything seems okay.
I caught up with an amazing friend yesterday, which is a huge part of why everything feels awesome right now. I am just so utterly blessed to have some of the people in my life that I do. I also feel relatively on top of things – I’m going to get stuck into editing Never tomorrow, I have a nice list of admin type stuff to be done. I just feel like I’m getting things done and moving on with life (levelling up, maybe?), which is always a great feeling.
This photo of dingos I took at the zoo last weekend makes me want to write a story about dingo shifters. They look so human.
This has been a strange week. I started off the week with a massive burst of energy that was, unfortunately, somewhat short-lived. The end of the working week saw a couple of bad days for me, but I am proud that I still managed to write, even if I didn’t manage much else useful.
An oldish photo of a lunar eclipse, fairy lights and car lights.
“Artists have to take a dive, and either you hit your head on a rock and you split your skull and you die… OR… that blow to the head is so inspiring that you come up and do the best work that you ever did. But you have to take the dive, and you do not know what the results will be.” – Maurice Sendak
This has been an odd week, hence the general lack of blogging. I’ve been hit hard by fatigue and medication side effects, both of which have rendered me somewhat useless. I did, however, manage to write every day on the novel in progress, which is something. I did also manage a fair bit of reading, which is also something.
This has been an odd week. I have accomplished my writing quota every day, but I am trialling a new medication, and its main effect (apart from decreasing my pain levels, which is awesome) is to make me very tired. Sleeping at night has been more broken than solid, as well, which is making it a little difficult to do any more than the minimum of work. Still, this will pass.
An old photo of Jilly sleeping. I haven't had the camera out much this week again, so you get an old photo.
I need to get the camera out more again. I may actually start up a photo a day project again, because I’ve been neglecting photos so much.
This has been a rough week. My pain and fatigue levels have been high post-Swancon, to the point where I actually took a full sick day yesterday and did nothing. I feel better for it, too, and hopefully after the weekend, I shalll be recovered enough to get stuck into work again properly.
Links, which are for the last two weeks, since I neglected them last week (since I was at Swancon!):
Gantheaume Point, one of my favourite places. Old photo, because I didn't have the camera out much this week.
This has been an odd week. Much pain again, with the arthritis flaring with the change of weather. I think summer is finally gone, with the nights getting cooler and the days milder. It’s been lovely to not have to hide away in air conditioning all day, and to have fresh air flowing through the house constantly. The great shift in my exercise routine is happening, too: no more swimming, and building up my tolerance for walking instead. I am entertaining the idea of purchasing an exercise bike for rainy days, but slightly put off by the prices, especially of recumbent models, which I am drawn towards.
There has been writing, and I’ve been happy with the quality, but not quantity of it. My pace is much, much slower that I use to write. But I suppose that I should be thankful that I’m writing at all. Between pain, a two-year-old and everything else, it would be very easy to just stop and stare at daytime television all day.
I have been devoting a decent amount of energy to uncluttering, which is a very satisfying thing. We’re not messy people, but there are places in the house that get cluttered with stuff, and when they’re clean and tidy, things feel much better. I have a massive list of things I’d like to do around the house (painting, for one, she says, eyeing off the horrid yellow walls in this room) but I’m tackling them in small pieces. They all add up.
Watching a child in their second year of life is incredible. Especially when said child is sleeping well, and therefore the rest of us are sleeping well 😉 He’s developing such an imagination – he re-enacts scenes with his trains, and tells us that Totoro lives in every big tree he sees 🙂 He still remains one of the cuddliest kids I’ve ever known, too, which is just delightful. Hard to think that in a few years he’ll be in school.
Awesome is having an artist friend who comes over and draws Totoros with chalk on the paving for your kid.
Not the best or the most productive of weeks, thanks to a flare up of arthritis pain. But I managed to write every day, and to stick to not breaking the chain. I am officially giving myself the weekend off from work, though – today the husband and I are going to see The Hunger Games in Gold Class, and tomorrow is massage day.
In good news, the pain seems to be less today, so hopefully I’ll be back to being productive next Monday.
This has been an…odd week. A couple of days where everything got derailed – husband was off up north working on site and got stuck there when the airport closed due to a cyclone. So the kid and I have been on our own since Thursday. Bless the little guy, he’s been awesome – going to sleep without too much fuss and sleeping through the night. You’ve never seen sad until you’ve seen a two-year-old’s face when you tell him that Daddy isn’t coming home as planned. My heart breaks thinking of kids who get told that Daddy or Mummy aren’t ever coming back.