First of all, Plenilune. I forgot to tell my formatter to set up the Goodreads page for me, so I was thrilled to discover that she went ahead and did it. I want to say right out that I can write - I'm good at that - but in technicalities and planning, someone has to hold my hand all the way. But there are already some advance reviews of Plenilune up, so please take a moment to check those out! Thanks!what have i been up to
I've also been line-editing for Plenilune: you know, grammar, consistency, that sort of last-minute polish which is invaluable. I don't know what I would do without my line-editor. My readers owe a lot to her!
Baby kicks. Yes, I can finally feel my baby kicking! I am approximately twenty-two weeks along, and currently the kicks are not uncomfortable: if anything, they are a relief just to know that my little girl is moving about and growing. I am now very obviously pregnant, which makes
packing a tricky business. Between the natural weariness of making a human being inside me, and the cumulative stresses on my body of doing so, taking down my house and putting it into boxes is tiring. My husband and I are aiming to be out of our rental home by the end of August (although our new home may not be ready for us), so I am slowly putting our life into cardboard containers. After a long day of moving about and being on my feet, my lower back gives strident notice. I am immensely thankful for heating pads and shower stools. They are lifesavers.
My father and Talldogs. We pulled through the disaster. My father has been home, he has begun to work again, and he has even asked that I reinstate my Talldogs installments for him to read. Between the exhaustion, pain, and disorientation, it took him some time to regain his concentration: picking up a copy of "Foreign Affairs" and reading through an article was a big deal. The Godfather voice is gone, although people who greeted him at church last Sunday noted that he hadn't quite got his voice back. He is regaining his strength, and his weight (the ordeal stripped thirty pounds off his frame), and though there are still many milestones ahead of us to make sure everything heals properly, we are immensely grateful and relieved.
Painting. I'm not a domestic, manual-labour type of person. While I like good food, I don't actually enjoy making it. I don't really like housework - especially folding laundry and washing bathtubs - and I know for a fact that I hate sewing. I am good at making messes and writing stories. That is about it. But because Tim and I will be moving into a blank slate of a house, we have made (cheerful) efforts to make our furniture into what we want it to be. We own a number of huge wooden objects - dresser sets, china cabinets, a piano - which are all dark and stained and old, and we have no qualms about taking a chain to them and repainting them in a distressed, white style (except the piano: we're not taking a chain to the piano). So I have actually been doing manual labour. I've always rather despised plastic, so working with wood and pale, neutral tones is soothing to me.
and that is the story of my life