I’ve been slow posting lately because life has intruded. Nothing bad, but just a lot of it. I’m leaving for the RWA National Convention next week (no, the house will not be empty, you pissant thieves–get a job), and we’re counting down to the Senior Olympics, which means I’ve been playing more volleyball than I have in a while (My knees hate me right now). One dog had a raging ear infection, which requires much bribing with treats to administer meds, then the other dog actually had a small one, which requires even more treats and makes the first dog seem downright cooperative. Also, just for fun, I snagged tickets to the Antiques Roadshow that was filming in Albuquerque (No, I’m not rich. The stuff I brought had little value). I’ve been judging in a contest (see previous post) and taking care of the annual booby smash (PSA: Women, get yourselves checked), and just juggling the little details of life.
It’s all good. Nothing tragic is going on (I’m not speaking of the world news here, just my own little corner), we’re all healthy, happy, working at jobs we love or exploring new ventures. Doesn’t seem too exciting. But if you know me, you know I think excitement is overrated, just like adventure is overrated. Excitement can mean bad things too.
It really is all good.
Books I’m reading now:
The Serpent of Venice by Christopher Moore (And now you know why I was re-reading Merchant of Venice a few weeks ago)