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Two other members of my writing group and I had made plans to go together on a writers retreat in September for five days. We get along well, all of us are very good at saying and respecting each other's "I need to be alone now," and we share similar interests. We've shared retreats like this before, and it's been very helpful for all of us.
P just found out that she's not going to be able to go. She made a commitment to help her mom move across many states to an assisted living facility months ago. Her mom just called and told her what dates she'd be expected to show up--unfortunately those dates are right in the middle of our retreat. I'm very upset about it, and if all three of us can't go, I don't want to go. Which is going to upset the third, because she won't want to go alone. Pfeh.
There have been seven or eight new housing ghettos--er, "neighborhoods" built within a two-mile radius in the last year. I've lived on this one-block, dead-end street for all my life, save a few years in Virginia, NJ and Germany, and now they've built a 100-unit warren at the end of the street and are connecting it to our street, making it a through-street. Not only that, they are "connecting" all these "neighborhoods" along our tertiary highway by widening it at every intersection. I have no doubt there will be stoplights at each crossing in another year. But meanwhile, I can't get out the end of my street for all the traffic backed up both ways waiting for the construction machinery to move into one lane so some overpaid yahoo can twirl his signpole from "slow" to "stop". And the beepbeepbeep of a truck in perpetual reverse is driving me insane. If I'd wanted to live in a damned antfarm, I'd have bought a condo downtown in some interesting city, not some jumped-up podunk like this one.
"People have to have someplace to live," I get this rationale all the time. No. No, they don't. The uncontrolled breeding needs to damned well stop. Humans are the kudzu of the animal world; they use up all the resources, overrun and choke out every other species. I want a nice dry cave somewhere I can live out the rest of my life. Someplace that isn't on someone's grid for the Interstate Corridor.
And in happier news, the Buffy and Angel dvds will have to wait. I found RoS dvds at Amazon.uk, and I damned well ordered them. Sharpe is 10 years old, RoS is 20. So what? Customer reviews were unanimous in praise for the series, saying (and I agree) that it put that Costner nonsense to shame. PoT was only worth it for the Rickman. Okay, and the Mastrantonio and the Slater. And the Freeman. Okay, and Michael Shane and Nick Brimble and the woman who played his wife. And Pat Roach as the Celtic king. Pretty much everying but Costner, in fact. I've always maintained it was the wrong Kevin. Imagine Cline in the role....
P just found out that she's not going to be able to go. She made a commitment to help her mom move across many states to an assisted living facility months ago. Her mom just called and told her what dates she'd be expected to show up--unfortunately those dates are right in the middle of our retreat. I'm very upset about it, and if all three of us can't go, I don't want to go. Which is going to upset the third, because she won't want to go alone. Pfeh.
There have been seven or eight new housing ghettos--er, "neighborhoods" built within a two-mile radius in the last year. I've lived on this one-block, dead-end street for all my life, save a few years in Virginia, NJ and Germany, and now they've built a 100-unit warren at the end of the street and are connecting it to our street, making it a through-street. Not only that, they are "connecting" all these "neighborhoods" along our tertiary highway by widening it at every intersection. I have no doubt there will be stoplights at each crossing in another year. But meanwhile, I can't get out the end of my street for all the traffic backed up both ways waiting for the construction machinery to move into one lane so some overpaid yahoo can twirl his signpole from "slow" to "stop". And the beepbeepbeep of a truck in perpetual reverse is driving me insane. If I'd wanted to live in a damned antfarm, I'd have bought a condo downtown in some interesting city, not some jumped-up podunk like this one.
"People have to have someplace to live," I get this rationale all the time. No. No, they don't. The uncontrolled breeding needs to damned well stop. Humans are the kudzu of the animal world; they use up all the resources, overrun and choke out every other species. I want a nice dry cave somewhere I can live out the rest of my life. Someplace that isn't on someone's grid for the Interstate Corridor.
And in happier news, the Buffy and Angel dvds will have to wait. I found RoS dvds at Amazon.uk, and I damned well ordered them. Sharpe is 10 years old, RoS is 20. So what? Customer reviews were unanimous in praise for the series, saying (and I agree) that it put that Costner nonsense to shame. PoT was only worth it for the Rickman. Okay, and the Mastrantonio and the Slater. And the Freeman. Okay, and Michael Shane and Nick Brimble and the woman who played his wife. And Pat Roach as the Celtic king. Pretty much everying but Costner, in fact. I've always maintained it was the wrong Kevin. Imagine Cline in the role....