slower and more reclusive than a snail

Too tired to keep up with social anything these days. I'm feeling wiped out.

Let's see, in two days, the monthly crap will be two months late for the first time ever. I'm in the advanced stages of peri-menopause now. The hot flashes have diminished a lot for some reason, so I've been getting a bit more sleep, sort of.

I'm exhausted anyway.

Here's my first macramé wall-hanging. I finished it the other day; it's the one that came in that kit I got not long ago. The larger beads I got for it look fantastic.

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I think I'm going to make a larger owl today, or something. Maybe work on my first zine.

We're supposed to get a pile of snow tonight and tomorrow. It's not snowing right now, but the wind is already strong. Fuck, it feels good to be home. It always feels good, but it's been feeling especially good these days.

Going to go putter and be quiet now. Everything feels like too much lately. I'm keeping anything that isn't solitude to a minimum.

I'm giving a Center For Inquiry (Ottawa) talk, and I'll sign books then too, at the start of February. That's going to be my sole "appearance" this year.

In February, I'll record that song for Rubber Clown Car (it'll be on an upcoming album), get a new computer (ugh), be interviewed on The Free-Thought Prophet podcast... And I'll work on finishing Hit the Road. I figure that book will be done in March, hopefully.

For the most part, I want to write and create quietly, in the shadows, this year, like the "clam inside its shell" type person that I am. Thank fuck I respect this now. More and more so. I'm like Groucho when he sings "Hello, I must be going."

Time to putter.