*waves without glancing at social media*

[miladygrey]

Not online and about much lately, because the news makes me want to drive my car off a bridge, and also we are going to Ireland in 10 DAYS!!!!!! and we are planning and prepping and pre-packing and making lists of who to call to hold mail, free up phones, ensure our debit and credit cards work overseas, etc. But I am here. I baked a strawberry-rhubarb pie for the gaming group, which vanished in under 5 minutes and resulted in my being given a giant bag of frozen rhubarb with a hopeful smile last week. Said gaming group defeated the overbearing priest of Clangeddin who was ready to let all the non-dwarven inhabitants of the city starve (as a human resident of said city, I was righteously indignant), and now we just need to save everyone from the encroaching ooze. Work is insane, but that means we are busy, and that's good. Yeats, flush with his starred review, is resting his brain by trying to write a detective novel (a la Robert B. Parker's Spenser), and it's flying along.

I love you all, take care of yourselves and others as you can. I'm trying to do the same.

Reading Log: Midnight Wolf by Jennifer Ashley; Impostor Syndrome by Mishell Baker; Of Fire and Stars by Audrey Coulthurst; So Lucky by Nicola Griffith; The Shadowy Horses by Susanna Kearsley; The Shards of Heaven by Michael Livingston; So Close to Being the Sh*t Ya'll Don't Even Know by Retta; The Ruin of a Rake by Cat Sebastian