Letters to Holly

Tuesday, April 19

Don't Be Broken

The boy is no longer in the original baby seat. He is too long. We bought a new upright seat that surrounds his sides. It's a lush, tall convertible seat that will allegedly fit him until he's about three years old. No longer can we hoist the boy in and out of the car inside a handled chair. While this means we don't have to carry 30 pounds of boy and plastic, we also lose the convenience of a hammock. I doubt he'll be able to sleep when we move him now. He rode in it twice this weekend, and he didn't complain. He did however forget how to sleep through the night. Last night, blessedly, he managed to crash hard and sleep the whole way through.

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I reassembled the lawnmower, and it cranked up the first time. There are fewer joys to begin springtime. Winterizing a mower involves draining the oil, cleaning the air filter, sharpening the blades, and changing the spark plug. The machines are designed to be fixed up this way, but machines can't be trusted to work the same even if one only removes and replaces the parts. There's a magic aura destroyed when just one component is adjusted, and only the creation of a new functional aura will allow the machine to work.

I had to mow the lawn to catch up to the neighbors. They had all cut their grass, and ours looked like an abandoned lot. No longer. Now it's clearly the domain of a sensible, upwardly mobile nuclear family. Between this and some garden work, I got in a slight workout. Once the comic art is all done did, I'll use the time before my morning commute to water the garden and run.

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Speaking of comics and machines, my scanner is kaput. Suddenly and totally. I'll have to play with program installs and removals. It's only a year old. I also had to order a second battery for Your Sister, as the one we just received does nothing. I wonder if she charged it enough, but we're sending it back regardless.

I took the comic files to OfficeMax, and they assured me of a quick turnaround. As in, it could be all printed by this weekend. I stammered my way through the conversation with the clerk; I didn't expect to be so rattled to be at this point in the process. This is the part of the comic production that's out of my hands.

Pictures of the Day
Pre-made sketch cards for the convention. Still don't know how much to charge for con sketches. Maybe a dollar. If I have any brains, I'll affix a business card to the back of each sketch.





The first Spidey sketch I made was instructed by Your Sister to live on the fridge. And so it does.

1 comment:

Gregory said...

I totally forgot to fill in WW"s eyebrows.