An update

My 16-year-old cat died exactly one month ago today. I adopted him back before I had even met my husband, and had gone through every stage of my adult life with him by my side — the idea of continuing on without my lapbuddy is a little daunting.

I’m still at the stage of keeping his food bowl sitting in its place, so that I can pretend in the back of my mind that he’s still catting about.

I’m the sort that withdraws to deal with the tough stuff, and 2023 has been full of a number of struggles. I’ve done barely any writing for this second half, and it saddens me to know that a second year is coming to a close where I didn’t meet my goal of finishing a novel. But life is life, and these rough patches are inevitable. Maybe when things settle down, I’ll be able to write a couple of novels in six months to make up for lost time.

I am still lurking around. Sort of.