A long time ago (July 31) in a place far, far away (my home, which is not where I am at the moment), an author (me) laid down his pen (interpret this figuratively, unless you want to imagine me marking up my laptop screen) at the end of a story (Summer of the Netherfield Witch) and declared he needed a break (because writing is so debilitating, as opposed, say, to working in a coal mine). He left you all with a vague promise (you know, the type you can actually get out of) to put the blog back on schedule in September (because my sanity waxes and wanes with the moon), most likely with another of his serialized stories (because I like taunting you all with the “continued next week” announcements).
Well, it’s September. Honest. If you haven’t noticed, take my word for it. And I am coming off a very trying month. No, it wasn’t the haggis I ate with E.J. on her birthday, though I understand why some of you might think so. And my acquaintance with the skunks and porcupines I’ve been seeing on the roads lately has stayed at the level of nodding acquaintances. No, I’ve been experiencing the world of care for the elderly in the United States. (Not me, personally, you understand; I remain eternally youthful; why, some would even say childish.) Best advice, folks: don’t get old. Admittedly the alternatives are grim, unless you so enjoy visiting cemeteries that you want to make a permanent career of it. But hold off getting old until our health insurance system for the elderly is changed from its 1960s model when Medicare was passed to something reflecting the realities of today. You might have to hold off for several years. Check out cryogenics, or at least practice holding your breath.
All of which is a long excuse as to why you won’t see a story starting today. (Also to occupy your time about as much as my stories do.) I’m hoping next week will see the start of one. I’ve got a pretty strong “in” with the author, and he’s nodding at me right now, saying “Next week.” (He does talk to himself. Also to other people. Also to imaginary people.) Honest. Take my word for it.