It has been an integral part of my life for over twenty years. We’ve had ups and downs. I’ve endeavored to pay a constant amount of attention to it, able to lavish more some months than others. We’ve been through a lot: several apartments, a military deployment, a condominium, a house. But now the time has come to say goodbye. The steadfast constant of so many years is no more.
I am celebrating the HA’s fifth birthday today. It isn’t her birthday yet; that will occur later this week. But the important point of a child’s birthday party is the party. Sunday works better for a gathering of her little friends than does the day after Thanksgiving.
I’m staring down fifty. As of this writing that day remains about six months away, slouching inexorably closer. I fight the inevitable as best I may, hitting the gym five days a week, maintaining a generally healthy diet.
So I think it was more bad luck than age or poor conditioning that caught me Thursday afternoon. I was mowing the lawn, about two-thirds complete, when I turned to push the mower uphill for another pass. I felt something give in my right calf. I will spare you a description of the pain. Let’s leave it at “it hurt.”
The days grow shorter, the mornings hold a touch of chill. But the summer retains a pleasant warmth, without the oppressive heat of July. And that means college football.
Brew day! It has been a while. This is my first attempt at brewing entirely from mail order ingredients. I enjoy living out where I do, but to date I do not have access to a conveniently located home brewing supply store.
MBW, the HA, and I drove out to the Columbia River Gorge yesterday and embarked on a paddlewheel sightseeing excursion upriver. The sky offered better visibility than it had most of the previous month: about this time every year everything west of the Rockies bursts into flame. Smoke obscures the views. Yesterday wasn’t bad. The river breeze was nice.
The HA spent a few days in California with her grandparents. Currently MBW and I are en route to pick her up at roughly the halfway point, specifically a casino about twenty five miles south of Roseburg, Oregon. I believe the HA’s excursion benefited everyone. Her grandparents get grandkid time, MBW and I enjoyed some child-free time, and the HA, I assume, enjoyed being spoiled.
Allow me to wish all you dads out there a Happy Father’s Day. And — what’s that? You wish to offer reciprocal celebratory felicitations for my having fulfilled my biological function? Well, thank you kindly. From MBW and the HA I received a card and charmingly framed photos of me with the HA. Both ladies are feeling a bit under the weather, but despite that temporary deficiency, I consider them peerless.
So, now that that’s dispensed with: News. Read on at your peril.
It is a weekend during which I appreciate my freedoms and liberties more than I do most other weekends. Yesterday I took MBW and the HA to downtown Portland’s waterfront to enjoy the Rose Festival. We ate reasonably good food, listened to sub-par music (sorry, kids, I know you meant well. Perhaps your voice will sound as good as it does in your imagination a few years after puberty hits.) We walked the midway, bought overpriced inflatable toys and watched performers with talent suited for the venue.
Here follows a miscellany of personal doings and writing updates. Please control your excitement.
My goal for the year was, I believe, to have two books out this year. That — spoiler warning — will not happen. See, there is a novel — “Boss” — complete, ready to go, and under contract. But the publisher wants a series, and wants to release the books on a tighter schedule than “whenever Ken gets around to writing them.” So I’m busily working on two sequels with the goal of releasing them all next year. That may prevent me from diving into the second draft of the “Chale Thorson” novel for the foreseeable future. Thus, 2018 may not see much published from yours truly, but 2019 will be chock-a-block.