Exhausted. I might have slept four hours. I finally gave up at 4:30 this morning. Above 5 I got up and made coffee and grits and tried to wake up enough to work. I sat here and stared at the iMac, trying to type whatever comes next. About 7:25 a.m., I gave up (again). And dozed off in my chair for an hour, waking from the first glimmer of sunrise ( Read more... )

I might be too tired for an entry. This has been one of the most exhausting days of my life. That I am hardly sleeping does not help ( Read more... )

A long damn day. But beautiful weather for the drive down to Tuscaloosa. Sunny, blue skies, and our high was 87F here, 88F in Tuscaloosa. And by the way, 88F feels a lot hotter in Tuscaloosa than it does in Birmingam ( Read more... )

There were storms yesterday afternoon and into the night. Before sleep, I lay and listened to thunder rolling across the valley. Thunder and the whistles of trains passing through Leeds, two profoundly comforting sounds in the darkness, and the rain against the windows. Trying to focus on anything but grief and misgiving and regret, and the rain ( Read more... )

It's sunny out, but only 61˚F. Still, better than rainy and 47˚F.

Yesterday, I wrote 1,151 words on "Dancy Vs. the Pterosaur." I'm hoping to finish it tomorrow, if all goes well. It will be appearing in Sirenia Digest #111.

Please note the current eBay auctions and please note, especially, that in less than four hours the auction for La fille qui ( Read more... )

I should be brief this afternoon, as the day needs me to be productive. Or I need the day to be productive. Whichever.

"Well, that's my opinion," has never been an acceptable excuse for being an asshole or an idiot. Or both.

Spooky's on her way back to Paper Nautilus with another four boxes of books. We can almost see the floor of the middle ( Read more... )

Firstly! My third-grade lunch box!


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The first time I saw this, on some long lost and forgotten Saturday morning, it would have been 1973, the year after we moved from Jacksonville, FL to Birmingham, AL. Probably, I was eight or nine years old. The song was written by American jazz musician Bob Dorough, and was performed by American jazz singer and pianist, Blossom Dearie (April 28, ( Read more... )