This has been a crazy couple of weeks, and they’re not over yet. Most of it has been the good sort of crazyness, the sort that gets my creative juices flowing—days afterward—but in the meantime, I’ve been physically, emotionally, spiritually, and about every other sort of -ally, buried.
So, here’s the recap.
Variety is the Spice of Life, but Monotony Buys the Groceries: Several months of work planning an upcoming Army exercise culminated in two weeks of revising diagrams and spreadsheets that total about the same number of pages as my last novel. I enjoy my job very much, but this part is both frustrating and tedious, as all the players are making last-minute decisions about who’s participating in the exercise and what they’re bringing with them. There isn’t much time to incorporate all the revisions into the master plan, so I’m working under a deadline with a lot of senior management interest in the project. Thankfully, it’s almost finished, but I’ve been staggering around like a zombie for several days now, wondering where I’ve mislaid my brains.
The Good News is Our Robotic Overlords are Benevolent: Last week, we spent three days in St. Louis (dragging my work laptop along so I could keep working on the project) while the Darling Daughter’s team competed in the 2012 FIRST Robotics World Championships. Click the link for details. Anyhow, they garnered a couple of peer awards, sent many foam basketballs arching through tiny hoops and yea, verily, balanced with precision upon many wobbly ramps. I caught a glimpse of Lord Segway Himself, Dean Kamen, and was heartily encouraged for our country’s technological prospects as I watched an NFL stadium full of budding engineers solve some very complex problems—and have a ball doing it.
“At the Senior Prom, we danced ’til three…” The Robotics Championships were followed immediately by the Olathe Northwest High School Senior Prom, and all the Prom-iness pertaining thereto. It was a long night, but my little girl was radiant. Fair enough.
Bring Out Your Dead: The Darling Daughter’s triumphs in St. Louis and on the dance floor were immediately followed by a bout of food poisoning. Or something. Enough said.
Kiss the Girl: And give her a big, honkin’ rock while you’re at it. The Eldest Son went down on one knee for his sweetheart last week near the fountain over there on the right (bonus points if you can pinpoint the location). She said, “It’s about time, ya big palooka,” or words to that effect. Her future designation will be the Delightful Daughter-in-Law, and so she is. The two of them seem well-matched.
Three Quick Questions for the Weekly Weimaraner:
- Greatest baseball player? “Ruth!”
- Texture of sandpaper? “Rough!”
- What’s getting replaced on our house this weekend? “Roof!”
That’s right, Josie. Several years of hail, hurricane-force windstorms, and driving rain have rendered our roof less than watertight. With a little help from the insurance company (and an uncomfortably large deductible), the whole works will be resurfaced this weekend. I also need a new wallet. This one’s flat.
Writing: Hmm? What is this “writing” of which you speak? Well, I have been doing some of that. Just wrapped up a seven-part series on icons in literature at Speculative Faith, in collaboration with E. Stephen Burnett. The latest installment in my Gamers thread at Avenir Eclectia, “Folly,” went online a couple of weeks ago, and I’m still waiting on word from Kaleidotrope regarding my short story submission there. Now that the chaos in my life has subsided, maybe I can get back on track.
Or not. Two weeks to the Darling Daughter’s graduation. Eek.