I'm truly not awake, so bear with me. Or lion with me. Or tiger with me. It really makes me no never mind, so long as you don't expect me to be terribly coherent or entertaining. I think I actually slept too well last night, which is odd, given I have finally started to get stressed out about The Move. 19 days to go. Maybe two-thirds of the packing left to be done, and a thousand odd little bits of detail to be attended to. And the blasted trip to Birmingham we have to make on Monday. So, yes. I overslept, and I'm just a bit nervous.

A blustery spring/early summer day yesterday, great gales of wind, and then a little rain last night. Clouds today.

Yesterday, after catching up on many long-neglected emails, I went back to work on The Red Tree. First, I looked over most of the material Spooky's mother had sent, especially the photos of the Moosup Valley area, and topographic maps, and a map from 1870 showing the division of Providence County, Rhode Island by landowners. Looking at a genealogy website, I found a name for the old Farm where the "red tree" grows — Battey — and then I was rather surprised (well, almost unnerved) to discover that a Mr. Battey had once owned the land adjacent to the parcel where I'm putting the tree. These things happen. By the way, today's icon was taken from that 1870s map, from the relevant corner. I did 1,269 words on the "Editor's Note" that will preface the book proper, the journal of Sarah Crowe, which contains within it excerpts from a manuscript left at the farm by a deceased folklorist. I committed my first two footnotes of the book yesterday. Oh, and I emailed the full manuscript for A is for Alien away to Bill Schafer at Subterranean Press.

After dinner, we watched another episode of Millennium ("Monster"), then packed four or five boxes in my office (Spooky had spent the whole day packing), then watched two more episodes of Millennium ("A Single Blade of Grass" and "The Curse of Frank Black"). I spent a little time on SL, nothing fancy, just fishing with Miss Paine in McElligot's Pool behind the Abney Park Laboratory in New Babbage. And then we went to bed and read more of House of Leaves. I think we read until about three ayem.

My cold seems all but gone, which is a great relief.

The office is beginning to feel odd and empty, too many shelves without books.

Anyway, the sun just came out, as if to remind me that the day isn't getting any younger and there's so much work to be done. So, let's wrap this up, kiddos.