It's been too long. But, such is the first-sentence lament of too many bloggers in the web-o-sphere, so I shan't importune you, dear reader, any further on the subject.
Wedding planning has taken off furiously. For those of you who haven't had the joy of sitting in on one of our sessions, we hit the ground running. Hall, church, pastor, cake, dress, wedding party, preliminary guest list, decorations, invitations, menu and a number of other things are pretty much worked out. And so far with minimal bloodshed. Although, the two of us did have a proper fight the other day because I was appallingly stupid about something. We sorted it out, and I for one am actually a bit more excited now that we got a good test run of our conflict-resolution rhythms. We'll be ok. But I think that's sufficiently personal for the anonymous web.
This past weekend, we were making a pile of comparative notes at my sister's wedding, and she's now happily honeymooning in the tropical sun. It being so hot up here, I can't imagine what it's like closer to the equator. The wedding was gorgeous and everything fell into place nicely. I got a nice reminder about relaxing and not "thriving on chaos" at the reception, when the servers at the hall began to go off the itinerary I had been given. I was frantically reorganizing things and worrying about being behind schedule. The dj, who has more experience at this sort of thing than I do, recommended I relax and let people enjoy themselves. A reception isn't a classroom, it's a social function. With a little background music and beverages, people can fill dead air all by themselves and have a good time doing it. After that first little hump I found I was relaxing again, and though we were a *whopping* 15min behind at one point, everything came together ok by the end.
Work is work. There's a reason they call it labour. The worst part is the morning, before I've spoken to the students and I'm worrying about the plans I've put together. Once the kids arrive, it's ok. I rememeber why I'm a teacher. I remember that I'm not too bad at this job. I remember that I still know something they don't, and can help them understand it. Also, I'm about half-done, which isn't something many teachers can say after only 3 weeks. The camp thing is a pretty good gig, all things considered. Might be worth looking into some day between my summers being packed with AQs and later packed with family vacations.
So much for macro-news. In terms of micro (or perhaps nano) news, I realize now that the lunch I packed is almost entirely bread products. 2 muffins, 2 sandwiches. If I'd brought beer and a dinner roll, I'd be bringing home another pound or two of John then when I left. Maybe I don't really need to eat the muffins. Right away.
Aside from the wedding, and work, there's not much to report, I don't think...
Oh! For people who didn't come to the concert on the 9th but want a CD, track me or my illustrious homonymic counterpart to purchase one. If you buy one from me, the price has gone down to $5. Message/Email/Call/Carrier pigeon to confirm availability. The fundraiser that weekend was a big success, but mostly from admission and beverages; we still had a big stack of CDs there at the end of the night. So if you're inclined at all to hear the dulcet tones of your favourite Jo(H)n on beautifully edited (if slightly buggy) CD, or you want to hear me sing, too, then give a Jo(H)n a call. Or email. Or pigeon.
The last thing I can think to mention is that I'm making progress on my novel. Chapter 12 is done (in *very* rough) and I'm mildly stuck. I have two equally interesting and important directions in which my heroes are meant to go and I can't decide which can logically follow the other. I've suspected that passing the problem on to them in the book could be a sneaky way to avoid worrying about it, except that they aren't really real people and so thus, can't solve the issue without me first solving it for myself. I don't have a lot of natural sympathy for artists or authors who talk about their work as if it is a thing independant of themselves. Art, at best, is a mirror or lens of the person's inmost. It isn't a person itself anymore than a reflection, shadow, or photograph. Of course, I made that sound all definite when I'm actually quite open to being persuaded otherwise. I'm trying to cut back on starting off definite with a big fat opinion and later backing down. It gets me into trouble sometimes.
Well, that's the news that's fit to post, and then some other stuff. Enjoy your Thursday!
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