12.12.14 (Day 355)
18.42
I'm in self-imposed exile in the kitchen, feeling a little inwardly reflective. And hot: the tumble dryer is on. And the dish washer. I'm practicing working in a kitchen, as I still aspire to do. And to write.
Today is my little boy's 10th birthday. Knowing him as I do (not as well as I'd like to), he'll have spotted that he's also two: in binary. He's a little brain box and very mathematically minded. Alas I may not see him. I sent a birthday card a few days ago via a circuitous route and I emailed my son today but I've had no reply. If only the choice of what to receive and read were his and not dictated.
I gather my boy gets upset when there's talk of contact with me. Not because he's in any way afraid but because he actually loves me and misses me: the feeling is mutual son. And I miss the little one as well of course but she's stronger of will than the eldest. And this latest restriction placed upon me because I was honest about perhaps not being able to see my little things because I thought I might be spending time and money making repeated trips to hospital because of my recent health scare. That's still very much up in the air. Literally balls in the air.
The company here is some of the best anyone could wish for but I feel reclusive, so I'm talking to my diary instead of anyone else.
And away from here I still have my adopted daughter and sister: The Wife and The Courts respectively. Along with the host family, they keep me propped up and afloat.
I've kept myself busy with writing. My most recent two short stories have been very well received by friends and writing peers alike. I'm currently working on fleshing them out and making them the back bone of a novel; something suggested by my writing peers. All of my writing, along with this blog and most other things to do with me are collected in one place on the other thing I've been working on: my personal website www.stevelaker.net
All that I've been busy with is thanks to the little device I'm currently writing this on: Little Blue II. I got a new Android and it is a thing of beauty. As well as the productive side of things, I've regained my personal leisure time, during which I can play poker, watch my TV of choice, listen to my music, play games and basically reclaim my life, keep myself busy and rebuild things. The new Android was courtesy of a mystery donor but I'm paying for it out of my own pocket, before anyone jumps on my back.
Having sorted out a means to run my life again on one device, I'm also back to working on the business. I have a 40-odd cover lunch gig next Thursday, at which there will be plenty of potential future customers. I shall endeavour to give them an experience greater than that which they're used to and hopefully gain some business. CRI have signed me off as being capable of controlling the drink. The hunt for housing continues with the council being less than accommodating.
That's the chef. The writer has been advised to submit the latest two stories for publication: I await news. The latest two are ones which I'm particularly pleased with, that have been very well received and have actually scared a couple of readers. This is the holy grail for the writer. It's fairly easy to disturb a viewer with moving images; not quite so easy to affect a listener with sound alone. But to invoke fear in a reader with just words is an achievement of which I'm proud. I feel The Paradox stories could well become a series and form the basis of a novel.
Time to pack up and move to the living room to continue the current chapter. Of my life; a story which some may not believe and which most wouldn't want to experience.
18.42
I'm in self-imposed exile in the kitchen, feeling a little inwardly reflective. And hot: the tumble dryer is on. And the dish washer. I'm practicing working in a kitchen, as I still aspire to do. And to write.
Today is my little boy's 10th birthday. Knowing him as I do (not as well as I'd like to), he'll have spotted that he's also two: in binary. He's a little brain box and very mathematically minded. Alas I may not see him. I sent a birthday card a few days ago via a circuitous route and I emailed my son today but I've had no reply. If only the choice of what to receive and read were his and not dictated.
I gather my boy gets upset when there's talk of contact with me. Not because he's in any way afraid but because he actually loves me and misses me: the feeling is mutual son. And I miss the little one as well of course but she's stronger of will than the eldest. And this latest restriction placed upon me because I was honest about perhaps not being able to see my little things because I thought I might be spending time and money making repeated trips to hospital because of my recent health scare. That's still very much up in the air. Literally balls in the air.
The company here is some of the best anyone could wish for but I feel reclusive, so I'm talking to my diary instead of anyone else.
And away from here I still have my adopted daughter and sister: The Wife and The Courts respectively. Along with the host family, they keep me propped up and afloat.
I've kept myself busy with writing. My most recent two short stories have been very well received by friends and writing peers alike. I'm currently working on fleshing them out and making them the back bone of a novel; something suggested by my writing peers. All of my writing, along with this blog and most other things to do with me are collected in one place on the other thing I've been working on: my personal website www.stevelaker.net
All that I've been busy with is thanks to the little device I'm currently writing this on: Little Blue II. I got a new Android and it is a thing of beauty. As well as the productive side of things, I've regained my personal leisure time, during which I can play poker, watch my TV of choice, listen to my music, play games and basically reclaim my life, keep myself busy and rebuild things. The new Android was courtesy of a mystery donor but I'm paying for it out of my own pocket, before anyone jumps on my back.
Having sorted out a means to run my life again on one device, I'm also back to working on the business. I have a 40-odd cover lunch gig next Thursday, at which there will be plenty of potential future customers. I shall endeavour to give them an experience greater than that which they're used to and hopefully gain some business. CRI have signed me off as being capable of controlling the drink. The hunt for housing continues with the council being less than accommodating.
That's the chef. The writer has been advised to submit the latest two stories for publication: I await news. The latest two are ones which I'm particularly pleased with, that have been very well received and have actually scared a couple of readers. This is the holy grail for the writer. It's fairly easy to disturb a viewer with moving images; not quite so easy to affect a listener with sound alone. But to invoke fear in a reader with just words is an achievement of which I'm proud. I feel The Paradox stories could well become a series and form the basis of a novel.
Time to pack up and move to the living room to continue the current chapter. Of my life; a story which some may not believe and which most wouldn't want to experience.
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