Still working on January portion of self-improvements, including curbing my delusions of grandeur, so have cancelled February

Sincerely hope you’re okay with that I mean it’s a fuck of a month anyway, isn’t it?

Cold and confusing. Does anyone understand leap year andor what that mumble’s all about at the end of the thirty days has September ditty that I sing to see when rent’s due? It’s a nice little rhyme up until that point, although the months are a little too interchangeable what with all the rhyming, but then it gets specific about February and I think everybody loses the tune and zones out and shrugs which is why, in part, I dropped February.

Also spring will come earlier this way. You’re welcome!

I might pop it back in temporarily, without that first r btw, the week of framily day which is a Canadian holiday some mom named so you pretty much have to go visit.

There’s been so much snow and cold weather here and I’ve turned into a lazy bones with a lazy bones dog. Have trouble walking in so much snow and ice. I think it’s my boots because they might be for fall, treadless but warm, which is stupid, the kind of thing if they were an animal they’d be Darwinned out of existence in no time.

They’re beautiful though. Teal and black and yellow with pink shoelaces (sounds like a bug apart from the shoelaces – they don’t like pink) and also too big (room for fat socks which is why I described them as “warm” up there) because I am an impulsive child and wanted to go for a walk soon as they were delivered which happened to be on my birthday and I talked myself into them fitting. Also, when I asked Daisy if they looked too big, she said no but I think now maybe because she had to pee or worse.

If I were an animal I’d be Darwinned out in no time, too

So I gave myself January to write a novella, which I did, and then I sent all 18,585 words of it off to a competition which I will probably get short-listed for, at least that’s what I’m thinking now still all buoyant about it but bubble is subject to bursting, of course, likely when I decide to read it in a couple of weeks and that’s when all the typos glow and the what ifs.

Not crazy about the word novella – like it’s the novel’s little brother, cute but inferior in some way. It was the perfect length to tell the story I wanted to tell though, and it was good practice, good discipline, and that story’s out of my head for now at least although I left the ending just open enough for a sequel if I have it in me, which I don’t yet but it might be bubbling in the back of my head right about where spring is unless that’s the Darwin thing starting.

I’m in a fitbit group. Small but steady bunch, including my daughter Lynne and Marie. Well, okay, exclusively them. And although I’ve been busy writing for a month and an unwilling walker with an unwilling dog as I said, I’m still winning so maybe they’re hiberhating a typo I can’t find a joke for, or have removed their fitbits until the freeze fucks off.

It’s pretty disheartening going to bed with 357 steps and 347 of them were to the fridge

Did you know you get steps for drinking? I got a hundred thirty seven just the other morning – haha, kidding – I got them in the afternoon.

Anyway. It’s early and bright and the snow is fresh and deep and purple in the long skinny shadows of trees and pink otherwise and I think I’ll go drag Daisy through it or vice versa.

Wonder if you get extra steps for shivering

This has been such fun to write and I hope it’s fun to read and because none of us need reality right now I’m going to keep this weird and blunderful blog up all through the rest of January and maybe even beyond!