I got some new software for the computer and there are a number of issues and I can't upload any photos from my photo program. I get a bit nervous wondering if I've lost some of the photos, but I can't deal with it tonight. Technology is such an interesting thing, making a blog and photos possible, yet always threatening to gobble it up, or make it unworkable.
Without photos, I guess I'm a pure writer. Just words to get me through. I'm still separating from the "Rose In A Storm" experience, although the book is still out there selling for Christmas. No book unfolds the way one expects. A lot of people were shocked that I returned to fiction, and it's tricky to jump venues. I am so glad I did this book, so grateful for it and fond of it. I have a short story collection coming down the road, but I am sort of itching to return to non-fiction for awhile. Fiction requires a particular head. I'm not sure I have it at the moment.
So I am thinking about writing about the farm again, now that I am staying here and seeing that it is under control. It is a different place than it was a few years ago. It is not as dramatic a place as it was a few years ago, and I am not alone here, but it is a richer and more spiritual place, and I am more connected to the animals here and the people around me, and perhaps that is the story for me.
So for the next few hours at least, the blog returns to its original form words, and as much as I love photography that is nice, too. I will figure it out in the morning. It is cold and raining, a bleak November night, a good fire going and my former girlfriend checking her e-mail. Life always jumps around, brings challenges and surprises. The trick is to stay grounded at the center.