The Editor Known as Mr. Deathrealm. Author of BLUE DEVIL ISLAND, THE NIGHTMARE FRONTIER, THE LEBO COVEN, DARK SHADOWS: DREAMS OF THE DARK (with Elizabeth Massie), BALAK, YOUNG BLOOD (with Mat & Myron Smith), et. al. Feed at your own risk.
Thursday, September 5, 2019
Options
I figured I ought to check in here on ye olde blog this evening, as it's been way too long since I've had the opportunity to post any updates. It's no exaggeration to say that the past two weeks have been the most uncertain, discombobulating, and stressful that I have ever lived through, topped off by an uncomfortable and infuriating sinus/respiratory bug. My mom's personal circumstances, which have been nominally stable for the past few years, nose-dived recently, when she succumbed to pneumonia and took a couple of falls. This has required an unprecedented level of intervention on my part (and my brother's, to some extent), and a major life-change for her is now inevitable. Beyond that, there's no need to elaborate, so I'll merely ask that those of you who consider me a friend please keep me, my brother, and my mom in your hearts. It's a tough, tough time, and every little bit of support means the world to me.
At this point, things have settled enough that we can take a breather before the next round. At least, I hope so. The next round is coming, but I feel that we are as prepared as prepared can be under the circumstances.
I've been able to work in only the barest minimum of geocaching (that which keeps me sane), but today, a couple of new trail hides awaited my attention. After work, I met friend Fishdownthestair (a.k.a. Natalie) out at the Kingfisher Trail, just north of Greensboro, where a couple of new caches required my attention. (Fortuitously, one of them — called "Options" because there's more than one method of reaching the well-hidden cache — belongs to Ms. FDTS herself.) Hers proved to be a wonderfully conceived, physically challenging hide, which required a certain degree of acrobatic prowess to conquer (see photo above). That done, it was on to friend Old Rob's newest. Happily, we made short work of it. I also ended up doing unexpected maintenance on one of my own hides out there, which required acrobatics of the same sort you see in said photo. Someone had replaced it somewhat out of keeping with its original intent (again, see photo), and I wasn't about to let that stand. Thing is, when I retrieved her new cache, Natalie had neglected to take any photos, so on our return trip, I recreated my original venture to ground zero (photo) so she could snap the requisite pictures.
Afterward, we ventured forth to Uptown Charlie's, one of our favorite post-caching dining destinations, where I partook of Pernicious IPA and Suicide Chicken Wings. So, for at least this evening, a sense of normality, or something such, managed to prevail, and thus energized, it is back to the writing of my next Ameri-Scares novel, this one for the state of Ohio, tentatively titled Fear the Grassman! Hey, it's Bigfoot, man.
Coming up, one thing I think I might do here — for my own sake — is occasionally post some recollections of my mom from over the years. I feel it will be therapeutic, and a touch of therapy about now could only be a good thing. You may change the channel or go out for a drink if you prefer; it won't bother me. Some things I do share, but they're really about preserving personal history. I trust you understand.
Till the next.
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1 comment:
Looking forward to them. I like hearing stories of your parents (and your crazy-ass/infuriatingly Leave-It-To-Beaver childhood).
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