"White shirt now red, my bloody nose."
Rain like hell today. Torrential. So dark the streetlights came on. There's a photo below, but it fails, utterly, to catch the monsoonal nastiness. Thunder and lightning. So, our high dropped to 66˚F, and it is now 58˚F. No open windows tonight. Last night maybe have been the last chance for that until February 2022. Oh, how I dread that year. I think it's going to make 2016 and 2020 look like cakewalks.
Anyone still know about cakewalks? I never know anymore. I live at last twenty years ago. I am comfortable about thirty years ago.
We do not change the present and build a better future by denying the facts of the past nor by hiding the past from view, no matter how distasteful you may find it. And we do not pretend that we are not all also deeply flawed products of our age.
Where was I? I signed more signature sheets today for the forthcoming second edition of From Weird and Distant Shores (originally published October 2001, over twenty years ago). If you want a copy, you better preorder ASAP, because these puppies are selling out. And, by the way, I've talked about John Kenn Mortensen's fine artwork on the inside of the book, but I should say something out Bob Eggleton's beautiful art on the outside of the book. Bob also did the cover of the original edition. This time, the cover seascape is based on one of mine and Kathryn's favorite spots in Narragannsett Bay, At Beavertil, where the sea slams into the rocks beneath the Beavertail Lighthouse. So, it's not only a gorgeous cover, it's a very personal one.
Brussels, I expected better of you. Honestly, I think riots are just the new pink. They have become reflexive.
With the first two COVID jabs, I had almost no side effects. Third time was the charm, but as bad as I feel...hey, I'm not on a ventilator. Get your vaccination. Anyway, I've been sicker than this from flu shots. It hit me a few hours before bed last night.
I signed a book yesterday that's going to Spain. I wish I were going to Spain.
Later Tater Beans,
Aunt Beast
10:59 a.m.
Anyone still know about cakewalks? I never know anymore. I live at last twenty years ago. I am comfortable about thirty years ago.
We do not change the present and build a better future by denying the facts of the past nor by hiding the past from view, no matter how distasteful you may find it. And we do not pretend that we are not all also deeply flawed products of our age.
Where was I? I signed more signature sheets today for the forthcoming second edition of From Weird and Distant Shores (originally published October 2001, over twenty years ago). If you want a copy, you better preorder ASAP, because these puppies are selling out. And, by the way, I've talked about John Kenn Mortensen's fine artwork on the inside of the book, but I should say something out Bob Eggleton's beautiful art on the outside of the book. Bob also did the cover of the original edition. This time, the cover seascape is based on one of mine and Kathryn's favorite spots in Narragannsett Bay, At Beavertil, where the sea slams into the rocks beneath the Beavertail Lighthouse. So, it's not only a gorgeous cover, it's a very personal one.
Brussels, I expected better of you. Honestly, I think riots are just the new pink. They have become reflexive.
With the first two COVID jabs, I had almost no side effects. Third time was the charm, but as bad as I feel...hey, I'm not on a ventilator. Get your vaccination. Anyway, I've been sicker than this from flu shots. It hit me a few hours before bed last night.
I signed a book yesterday that's going to Spain. I wish I were going to Spain.
Later Tater Beans,
Aunt Beast
10:59 a.m.