I like to be here when I can.

Many of us live for the weekend, but I perhaps more than some, because weekend is when I go home to wolf and dog.

I got home about an hour ago. I've hugged all our guests, I've hugged akeela several times, and I've had two cuddles with mischamute - the ecstatic wagging-tailed reunion greeting, and then a long lazy sprawled-out love ( Read more... )

Dear Mischa ( Read more... )

Huh, so much for sleep. I was sort of getting there, but then something intervened, some combination of old memories and poisonous hypnogogic imagination that left me in a cycle of bloodstained and heart-pounding half-dreams.

( In which I dig around in dark corners of my own psyche. )

Wow. Only seven hours' sleep? I guess I'm caught up at last. Ever since Monday I've been switching my alarm-clock off, crashing out by about ten o'clock and sleeping like a python for nine or ten hours ( Read more... )

Where I last broke off this narrative, I was mentally cursing a loud child who was inflaming my temper on the train. Shortly thereafter I found that I was sitting in the carriage with the cheerful dinosaurs painted on the sides and the playground in the upstairs compartment. Double-decker trains with dinosaurs, slides and a climbing-frame; ( Read more... )

Dear Mischa ( Read more... )

All the grinding inexplicable fatigue of the past week has landed on me with a heavy thump. I am going to bed with every expectation of sleeping for ten hours. If I don't then there's no hope for me and I'll just have to spend the rest of my life on an alternating diet of uppers and downers.

Goodnight.

Caffeine accident. I think I can sleep now. Goodnight. Forgive me if I'm tetchy tomorrow.