Not quite sure why I’m several days behind posting since I’ve really not done much of anything the past couple of days. This view, with grass stalks that materialized overnight out of thin air, is the view from the armchair in the front room, the armchair in which I’ve been writing my novel. Well, actually, no novel writing. But I have played endless games of shikaku (yeah, google it, another one of those Japanese puzzle games). The on-line class I’m taking started and I have kept up with the lessons. And, I’ve read a couple novels. Shall I confess the contents of these edifying works of art? One involved a medium who worked for the British army in an alternate world where dead soldiers reported in from a WWI front. Another involved love between a witch and a vampire – don’t think Twilight; this was a scholarly work wouldn’t you know. Another involved a choir boy who sort of inadvertently becomes transgender kid in his quest to stay in the choir. So perhaps I’ve been “busy” in a certain definition of the word. It often seems to be the case that, the less one has to do, the less one gets around to doing.
