So now it can be told - Kate's been out of town for the past two weeks, and I've been on my own. She just got back late, late Tuesday night.
My reason for not mentioning it is similar to my reason for not mentioning when I'm going out of town - I really don't feel like hanging a sign on my house saying "Not Here!". We had a break-in a few years ago, and as near as we can figure, the thieves were casing the joint, waiting for a time when both of us were out of the house. So I really don't tell people when I'm leaving the house unoccupied (Unoccupied, of course, except for Loki and Satan, my dobermans, who spend their free time disassembling and reassembling AK-47s. Blindfolded).
So I've been on my own for the past two weeks, and in general, it was pretty tedious. I know, images of empty pizza boxes dance in your mind. Wild parties. Blogging in my underwear (OK, let's NOT have that image). Actually, it was mostly work and sleep. Work and sleep, repeat ad infinitum. The first weekend was a complete crash and burn, while the second was much, much better, only through sheer determination to not be a bump on a log.
I told you about my day off Friday, which was one of three exceptional days in a row. Saturday was the company picnic for True North, held out at the Rein Fire Ranch, where Rich and his partner Bill raise racehorses. The WotC web team was invited as well (since we do a lot of work with them), and Eric has pictures here . I was in these shots, but through the magic of photoshop, was airbrushed out and replaced by a fat guy in a Hawaiian shirt.
Sunday, the 4th was an equally nice party at Sue and Monte's. I don't remember any cameras being present for that one, so I can safely say that I was thin, nattily-dressed, and devilishly handsome. Lots of industry chatter, general banter, and a few games as well. Very nice.
After the party, I eschewed the public fireworks and instead did something I've been meaning to do for a few years - climbed up on the roof and watched the locals set off their firework stashes. We're in firework country out here, with all manner of pyrotechnics available (the good stuff comes from the reservations). Even though our property is surrounded by trees, I had good sight-lines to about a dozen would-be Masters of Destruction, particularly those setting off rockets on the school grounds. A very nice display.
But other than that, the past two weeks have been a bust, and I am delighted to have the other half of my life back on this coast. And since she was helping her mother settle into a new apartment, Kate's glad to be back - she's been walking around the house, muttering "All this space, and its all mine."
"Ours" she adds, when she catches me looking at her.
A Connoisseur of Footnotes - So, I've just finished reading Joseph Lelyveld's HIS FINAL BATTLE: THE LAST MONTHS OF FRANLKIN ROOSEVELT (2016), which I recommend. I've long been puzzled ...
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