Meta-communication

Natalie (who is about to find fame and fortune via featuring of her amazing illustrated blaug on the good old BBC) has drawn attention to my recent absence.

I've had enough psychotherapy to know that when one can't actually communicate, it can be useful to communicate about the blockage to communication - the meta level.

So ... here are some thoughts ...

I've had the sort of cold that is not dramatic enough to blog about but makes you envy the energy levels of a sloth.

My cat is very horribly ill. Heart problems and fluid in her chest. Hopefully survivable as apparently the nine-lives-thing does kind of translate into organ redundancy in felines.

I've been getting on with some of those real-world-things-to-do. Change the butane bottle. Scrub out the chicken shed. Make firelighters. Wash clothes. Type of stuff.

To steal a royalist phrase: My powerbook is dead. Long live my powerbook. Fortunately the insurance is coughing up for what would have been a hugely expensive repair, so instead I have used that to fund 2/3 of the cost of refurb powerbook from the lovely people at Cancom. It's gorgeous but there was a gap of around a week and a bit between the old one really being unusable and the new baby being set up.

I'm doing NaNoWriMo ... well, I'm at about 12,000 words instead of 25,000 with half the days gone, but it's proving interesting anyway. I have been alternately encouraged by the struggles of even the ultra inspirationally focussed Lorianne of Hoarded Ordinaries, and discouraged by the unbelievably fast growing word count of Watermark. I think as well as the time this occupies, when I might otherwise be blogging, I am lost in the voices of the characters of my novel, and the voice of Stray has been difficult to hear at times. That sounds a bit wanky doesn't it? Oh well. Darlings, I'm writing a novel!

And now ... I'm off to spend some chillin' time, no internet access, probably no mobile phone signal. Phew! Back Monday, and boy do I have some baby goats for you ...