is on the way.
Solomon and I walked today, just as the front was moving in. I could feel the shift from almost spring to "Nahh. Just kidding" in just the thirty minutes it took us to get back to the house. I have the window over the couch open right now as the house is stuffy and smells too much of dog and boy. A cautious wintery wind is slowly creeping a cross the sill, exhaling its motherload a little at a time. I'm enjoying the open window while it lasts. Tomorrow, it will be all about pulling curtains and closing out the cold drafts.
Naturally this front would appear on the night of the great lunar eclipse. The kids keep going outside and peering upward hoping to spot just a bit of the legendary red they'd heard about. So far, no luck.
I've assured them it will be back in 2010 (Am I the only one who thinks about Hal when she sees dates like that?). Not that far off. Surely, surely, by then, our luck will have changed.
'Working a short story which I will complete simply because I need to finish something. I've been frozen in time ever since finishing Troubled_Waters. Writing has been all about subbing existing work, editing, studying the business of writing, writing query letters and polishing work. For the first time in a long time, I've got several incomplete short stories sitting on my desktop. The writing in all of them is good, but the stories simply stop halfway through with no sense of what the hell to do next. I suspect I'm like a rat in a maze who's too worried about the wrong turns to move. This is as close to writer's block as I've been since my mid-twenties. It seems to revolve around fear, but I'm not sure I can put a name to what I'm afraid of.
Enough navel gazing. If I don't waver and I don't over think it, I can finish the story tonight.