Since my last post in April, things have been slow. Not the, not much is going on, type but the, I need help getting myself in gear, type. Recap: On April first, I lost my (cat is not a strong enough word for what he was for me) furry baby Stardust. I honestly cannot remember the next couple of months after that. I was in so much pain it took every ounce of my being to do my routine activities.
As the Pennsic War approached at the end of June, I had to put myself in prep mode. Two weeks of camping with the family requires a lot of lists and gathering things together. I was still hurting, but at least I had something to distract me from the pain.
Then it was land grab day, July twenty-eighth. We got up super early and drove to Cooper's Lake Campground, where we would spend the next couple of weeks with many friends and loved ones. Unfortunately, there was a huge monkey wrench thrown into the land allotments thanks to an unexpected road and a few other issues that led to a lot of stress and me regretting going. It did not help that it was excruciatingly hot, so setting up made everyone involved grouchy.
Once things were set up, everyone settled in, and overall, it was a good event. I did not spend as much time with people as I would typically have, but I was not feeling as social as I have in the past. I spent most of my time reading and knitting in my quiet little corner. I finished books one to five in The Dresden Files by Jim Butcher and Sword of Destiny by Andrzej Sapkowski. It felt good to get lost in the books. Although I did not get to spend time with the people I usually do, I had a chance to see some people from my past and catch up, which was nice.
Then Pennsic was over, and we returned, and I had a mountain of laundry to wash and a pile of totes to sort through, inventory, and put away. It was overwhelming, and not having Stardust around to sit with and snuggle made it more difficult, but I got it all done. Pennsic was no longer taking over the first floor of the house.
Now, life is supposed to go back to normal. I am supposed to get back into my routines and get back to writing. And I am trying. I sit down and start typing, and some days, I can get more than others written, but it feels off. I still find myself looking for my beautiful panther, expecting him to jump up and start licking my ears. (He was obsessed with grooming my ears and neck.) In the past, when I was stuck, I would sit with him for a while, and the writing would come again. Now...
I am trying. All I ask is that you be patient. The words will flow freely again one day, and I will get another book out. I am currently working on something slowly.
