rocky day

Today has been pretty emotionally high-strung. I read this morning that our friend /Frank Darcy, the charming gentleman who ran the last two P-Cons, has gone into hospice and isn’t expected to live much longer at all, after spending most of the last fifteen months fighting stomach cancer. His daughter posted to his journal to let people know, and is passing messages along, which is incredibly thoughtful of her. Frank befriended Ted and myself early on in our introduction to Irish fandom, and I will absolutely never forget the entrance…

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this would be a long post if i had more brain

Lucy’s much perkier today, and is scent-glanding things and popping her claws on the cat tree, and consequently I’m much happier. Zilli is *extremely* sullen over Lucy getting gooshyfood and him not. Actually, he’s sullen in general. He thinks we’re paying too much attention to Lucy. I told him we’d paid lots of attention to him last year when he broke his leg, and that Lucy hadn’t hissed at *him*, but he doesn’t seem to care. Anyway. Things are getting better. We’re going up to Longford tomorrow to visit my…

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*sigh*

I am not feeling up for it today. This is ennui; this is the Novelist’s Event Horizon at its peak. The book is done except that niggling rewrite of the prologue, and doing it seems completely overwhelming. Even my walk this morning was uninspiring (although it did involve cygnets, and if I can find the right camera attachment I’ll post a picture at the end of this entry), and my friends list is full of less-than-brilliant medical news (except my lj-writers friends list, on which one of the communities there…

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