I cannot write. So much crowding my little brain – rants about my hatred of politics, philosophical unravellings of the universe, book reviews, squeals in response to cuteness, speculations about the nature of the human mind and fingering weight yarn. I could howl about the limitations of the space time continuum, and a do a ripping followup on my resentment of entropy. But I can’t. I am brain-exhausted.
All I have been doing is learning the ins and outs of ebook publishing, which is more arcane than you can imagine. Some of you. Not that you can’t imagine it – but that you wouldn’t waste the time.
That and finishing the yearly project. And discovering Lynda.com tech training, through which I am finally learning how to do the things in Photoshop I’ve been doing the hard way for the last five years. Plenty of “Are you KIDDING me?” and “THAT’s how you do it!” moments. I have been, in short, living at my desk. Seeing no one, except on our trip to Santa Fe, and spending no money, except on our trip to Santa Fe. Until this morning.
This morning when I got home after feeding the beasts (stumbling stupidly through the chill morning – it’s good I only drive a country mile to get there), I opened the door of my house to find this person in it:
These people, actually. Andy dressed in flannel clouds, Scoots in small bright cars.
They invaded the kitchen. Do you see the small anime character beside the sink?
Hoping to coerce this man
and this one, also, to cook pancakes for them. Pancakes with chocolate chips and squirty cream. There is nothing I love so much as men who wear aprons and mean it.
Waiting.
And then chasing it all down with milk. “Well, Scooter – how did you like. . . oh. You need a minute, there, do you?”
I followed them outside into the warming morning as they left and noticed these. Then I came back into the house and wasn’t there more than two minutes before there was yet another knock at the door.
It was this person.
When the apron came off, this bearded man (who had been dressed like this the entire time) and this young buck broke out the bikes and went a journey toward the mountain.
Here is a dog who dreams of bringing down a wild bike with only his teeth.
This morning, it was not to be.
Though both dogs did their best to chase down those bikes on the other side of the fence. After that, I had treadmill time planned. But here came another person, jockeying her way in through the front door with a slightly clicky key.
Also dressed for biking. I was the only one desk bound today, I think, in the entire world. Anyway, I have no tight black pants.
I am also not a super-hero. But I did make some headway in my learning. Some. And I had some chocolate – which made up for everything else.
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