Old Stomping Grounds

I could really just dispense with saying "busy weekend" ever again. Weekends are always busy, and they probably will be from here on until the last of the kids can drive herself around, at which point I will find things to fill them up out of sheer habit. Saturdays have the farmer's market for a few more weeks, eldest's dance class, errands to run and cleaning to do. Sunday mornings are lately for bread baking, watching Agents of SHIELD (giving it a B so far), writing and/or critiquing.

The afternoon on this particular rain-drenched Sunday was occupied by a trip to Worcester and the Higgins Armory Museum, soon to close for lack of funds. We haven't been back to Worcester much since moving. I never really did bond with the place, and I don't have any emotions about the Higgins closing beyond a rueful shrug. The visit was pleasant. I took some pictures of things that might come in handy for the novel, but mostly shepherded the kids around the play area. The enormous vinyl building blocks, from which endless castles could be constructed for summary destruction, were a big draw.

I feel like I should say something profound here about cities and identity, given that Worcester's main identity has always seemed to be "that city with an identity problem." It continues to muddle along with much change, at least not much visible from a car window.

I've been slightly battered of late by ideas for things I can put into this book. I only hope to do a halfway competent job of it.

The Prometheus Tapestry

13,044/100,000