greygirlbeast (greygirlbeast) wrote,
greygirlbeast
greygirlbeast

Howard Hughes Battles the Pink Robots (Pt. 3)

Yesterday I wrote 1,303 words on a piece that, for now, is known simply as "Untitled 27." I started with a sentence about the passage of time, uncertain where it was headed, but now it's looking a bit like "Untitled 23" — the piece about the wayward faerie girl and the Queen of Decay (Sirenia Digest #10) — filtered through certain Smashing Pumpkins and NIN songs ("Right Where You Belong" from With Teeth springs to mind). And with "male" characters instead of "female" characters. And as Bowie's Baby Grace Blue says, "I think something is going to be horrid." I'm liking it.

And here I am, Day Three of the Mordorian Death March, though there will be no actual marching again today. Tomorrow, though, I'll head out across Nurn, bound for the River Guthrant, beyond which I should be able to locate Thaurband and the Thaur Road. I will be merciless.

There were thunderstorms again yesterday evening. I love evening thunderstorms. After dinner, after the rain, Spooky and I walked. And then we watched My Fair Lady (1964) on TCM, and then I had a bath, and then we just talked for a couple of hours. Trying to figure out how to get from Atlanta to New England for good, once and for all. If I could do it without selling all this goddamn furniture. We're still thinking about Salem, which would be wonderful, and about Providence, maybe some place like Wakefield or Peacedale. If I had my druthers, we would be moving to Cambridge, but the rents are sky high anywhere that near Boston. Most of my life has been lived in the South, and I do fear the new England winters, but there's nothing here for me, nothing but inertia. Nothing but the weather, and that hardly seems a good reason to keep Spooky in exile. And I know we talked about other things, but they escape me just now. Spooky fell asleep about two thirty, but I was up until 4 a.m. or so reading Parini's Steinbeck biography.

Spooky just this second added a new bird to our "yard list": a Great Crested Flycatcher (Myiarchus crinitus). Cool.

I guess that's it for now. My grateful thanks to the folks who have sent me birthday gifts, as we near the 26th and the Big -03. This year I have told Spooky I would like a German-chocolate cake. There hasn't been a cake the last couple of years; at least, I don't think there has been. But this feels like a cake birthday. Anyway, yeah, the wish list is here, should you like to contribute to the Great Distraction of 2007. The platypus says that I have to go write now. I am slave to a monotreme...
Tags: birthdays, moving, new england, sirenia, storms
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