Birth and Rebirth

One of my oldest and dearest friends had a baby last night, a girl. I was expecting a boy because apparently everyone walked up to her on the street and told her it was a boy. That is a fine demonstration of what everyone on the street knows. And yes, the first five letters of demonstration are DEMON. Note, this does not mean my friend’s child is a demon; nor does it mean she isn’t. There is not sufficient information to determine this from the data provided.

In other news, I dusted off my old novel and began working on it again over the weekend. Because I had started a new one, I realized that I hadn’t worked on the old one for about a year. I had a writing coach who said to always work on two things at once so you can go back and forth as your interests wax and wane. My own interests do not wax and wane so much as go from hibernating in a cave to driving the Indianapolis 500 to perhaps flitting around some lunar colony that they invented out of whole cloth.

Life goes on, but still one is forced to eat cantaloupe if one wants to reach the pineapple.

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