Had a really nice evening today. I hate the word "nice", but it really does fit here. Got home from work just as my parents were heading out to dinner and a concert. My brother is over at a friend's. House to myself from 4:30 to now. I napped, I wrote, I ate, I read, I played with my ferret. I left the desktop computer turned off for all but ten minutes until now, so I wouldn't be tempted to fritter time away on the 'net. The rain's been pouring and the wind stirring. It's been good. Very peaceful. I should do this more often.
Have started sticking seemingly pertinent quotes onto the top of my laptop on sticky notes. So far have one by Joseph Campbell and one by Bif Naked. Hurray for variety!
I really have to read The Power of Myth again. I was paging through it looking for a quote to share with a friend and it kept trying to grab me (and nearly succeeding). Think I will leave that until just before I'm about to do the second draft. It will fill my head with all sorts of modern mythical bliss.
Got an e-mail today from someone asking about the invite codes I put up for grabs a while back. Yes, I still have a bunch. Yes, you can still write to me and try to convince me that I should give you one. No, I'm not very hard to convince. :)
I leave you with a calm and peaceful sort of snippet, to fit the day.
Her mother came in first, a little after ten. Angie listened to the familiar click of her heels, the thump as these were cast onto the rack, the whine of the liquor cabinet door and the crackling of ice into a glass, like the first thaw in spring. She knew without hearing the path her mother took, careful steps on blistered feet, through kitchen and dining room to den. The TV would be humming to the last news show of the day. Its light would glow through the glass and its amber contents and lay an orange shadow across her mother's face.