Between birth and first breath...

Back in December 2003, I outlined how it was I came to join LiveJournal, concluding: "So in the end, it turns out I am here - in part - thanks to Jennifer Rigley and her wild idea of 1996."

I joined LJ eight years ago yesterday, entirely unsure of what I was potentially getting into, and posted the first of my scribblings eight years ago tomorrow. As it turns out, my LJ is just about exactly one year older than Huntur, who turns seven today.

The month's receipts have been so mediocre, that even a full weekend's worth of work won't change that fact, so I just declined a 6,000-word job from a potential new client. Besides, I really want to spend time with Huntur (and Mathew) today, maybe even shoot a little video to show to their great-grandmother in Moscow when I pass through town next week.

Cheers...

Relearning basic skills...

I dropped by the kids' place around noon, thinking that was when Huntur's birthday... gathering (too small and not rambunctious enough to be a "party") was to take place, but found out the main event was scheduled for 6 pm. That didn't stop me from shooting some video, and it gave me an opportunity to take part in that traditional of Pagosa pastimes, patching a tire.

Drew stopped by the house during his break and noted that the left rear tire on the Ford was dangerously low, and after spending time with the family, I set about taking the tire off the car, finding out the spare is, um... "underinflated" (no pressure beyond atmospheric inside the tire), and then borrowing a car to go get the punctured tire - I could see the bent nail - fixed.

In between, I accepted an assignment for Tuesday, which topped off my work meter for the weekend. I plan to go visit Feht tomorrow, for dinner and a catch-up session. It's been eight months since I've seen him (more to the point, since I've been around!), and am debating whether to go to Durango earlier in the day to see about getting a proper pair of shoes for Kazakhstan. I'm all set as far as flip-flops and sandals are concerned, but neither are appropriate for duty inside of 92A-50.

Then again, it occurs to me (as I type this) that a trip to Durango and back will consume between 5 and 6 gallons of go juice, which translates into $20-$25 of mazuma, which might actually tip the balance in favor of local merchants. Another alternative would be to wait until I get to Baikonur and get a pair of shoes there (though there's no telling how long it might be until the first shopping trip into town).

Galina tells me someone will be coming by tomorrow to look at the New York house with an eye to renting it, after which she will take off for Colorado. With luck and Providence, she'll pull into town either really late in the evening on Monday or (preferably) on Tuesday.

Cheers...