Ah, at last my life has begun to slow to that pastoral pace I crave. The last two weeks have been crazy non-stop from dawn ’til dusk. Finally, things have calmed. I’ve got a couple chores here at the box factory this morning, but mostly I can resume my life of leisure. I have grand plans for it!
For one, I’m going to try to remodel Get Rich Slowly.
For another, I’m going to rejuvenate our desktop computer at home. After three years of hard use, even Macs get bogged down with cruft, and that’s certainly happened here. In particular, Mail seems to have flipped a switch to berserk mode lately, and refuses to communicate with my spamfilter. Thus, there are hundreds of spam messages in our inbox. I need to fix this.
I also want to set that machine up with an RSS reader so that Kris can become acquainted with the magic of efficient blog-reading. To that end, I’ve gone through this morning and nabbed the RSS feeds from all my friends and family. (All except for Nicole and Ruth, that is. These two aren’t publishing feeds. Come on, ladies! Pull it together!)
I also intend to spend some of this leisure time — gasp — writing. It’s my turn to produce something for the Woodstock Writers Guild. Inspired by the story Mark shared yesterday, I’m going to dig up one of my old favorites. (It has some similarities to Mark’s story.) I’ll revise, revise, revise, and then share the fruits of my labors in a couple weeks. (I may also try to write some new material, too.)
Most of all, I’m looking forward to a slow, quiet weekend with Kris. We have nothing planned. I have a bunch of blog entries pre-written. It’ll be a fine time to laze around the house, go see a couple movies, and generally enjoy each other’s company, something we haven’t had time to do for the past few weeks.
And, of course, we’ll continue to help Max acclimate to his new home. Kris has dubbed him “Meatball”. “We’ve never had a cat with a silly name before,” she told me. His official name is still Max, but Kris simply calls him Meatball. (And he is a meatball.) Simon and Nemo are beginning to contemplate friendly terms with Max, but they’re still a little stand-offish. Toto’s policy is simply to hiss at everyone.