Tuesday Night.

Gray and cool -- long-sleeved -- the TLK winter in earnest, if early. We tend to have this in early June. We're having it now. Maybe this is dogwood winter. Maybe it's my grandfather's cotton-pants winter, so named because by now the wool pants are put away. Drywallers in the writing shed. The thing's coming together. I'm beat. I'm tired. The kid's coming. The shed looks good. There damn well better be another novel in that thing. Technically, there better be a first in it. The other shed gave me this one. We'll see what the new building's got in it. For now, drywall dust on the half-draft of whatever that is out there.

Mid-May, friends and fans of calendar dating. Solstice coming. Long evenings. Sun up early, early.

Watching a PBS thing on Iraq vets and re-uppers getting tattoos to make it make more sense. Doesn't really help it make any more sense.