Working Without Progress

I’m “up to” a lot of things. Crocheting, for instance. I’ve been crocheting a bit. I say a bit because even though I’ve devoted quite a bit of time to a little project I’m making for someone who could use a pick-me-up, the total mass of stitches completed is quite small. I’ve decided that I really despise assembling small pieces, which, strangely, is the type of project that I seem to do the most, or be the best at. Odd. Still, it does not make for an impressive stitch-count, nor does it provide the theraputic relaxation that comes from working on something very simple very fast.
Let’s see, what else. There are the kids, of course. Max is learning more and more every day (Greg and I were teaching him some karate just last night, in fact – too cute) and Charlie is growing like . . . something clever that grows a lot . . . and both of them soak up time and attention like a fresh dry diaper. (Seriously, those things are crazy absorbent.) We’re going to the zoo tomorrow! Which should be fun.
Then there’s the house. We are moving. Soon. So, there is quite a bit of cleaning and packing to be done – which has not been done – and even though at the end we will be in a nice, new, shiny, bigger, house of our own, it’s a lot of trouble.

But in the midst of all this, let’s not forget my own personal pet project: I’ve decided to participate in NaNoWriMo this year. I’ve wanted to be an author since I was four, and though I started strong (with the adventures of Space Poodle), since those days I’ve lost a little steam. I’m going to give it a shot this year, and see what I can really do with one month and 50,000 words.

That is all.

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