Since Ryan let the cat out of the bag, it seems time to mention that I’m in the midst of a big ol’ move. Ryan’s dream job was, as advertised, both dreamy and jobby, and has proven so dreamy that they will let him telecommute from home. I kid you not, his boss said “work should enrich life, not vice versa.” Really. People say that.

Anywho, I’ve been an endless ball of whine about moving down here, and I know it. As Anya said once, “This tone in my voice? I dislike it more than you do, and I’m closer to it!” I can tell that I’ve been a kvetch about the (cloudless) weather, the crazy traffic, the constant merging, but I just couldn’t stop. I’m an alien here. I’m a creature of water. My skin needs it, my lungs need it, my soul needs it. I’m dry, itchy, asthmatic (smog and smoke, more than lack of water) and grumpy. It’s time to go home.

So home we go! I’m moving closer in to Portland than I’ve ever been before, which is quite exciting. I’m hoping to utilize Tri-Met and my own two feet and let the Poky Puppy rest a bit. Walking is good time to ponder plot and pick up details from the real world to cram into my writing. I feel like walking’s more or less our primary mode as humans, and that we don’t do it enough in modern America.

So that is one of the reasons (a recent push of story submissions is another) why I’ve been posting less lately, and I’m sure in the next few weeks I’ll be sporadic about it. But then I will be home, and a happier blogger for it. Let’s face it, adaptability is not one of my greatest virtues, at least when it comes to leaving my home region. Webs between my toes and they never go away.