Day 1 - A New Beginning! - Version 2.0
Jan. 1st, 2010 09:37 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
wolfsbrideOkay! Time for the Standard New Year's Procedure. Since I'm lazy, I'm just going to reuse last year's format. If it ain't broke, why fix it. And so, for the fabulously even year of 2010, the list will be thus:
1. Physical - Build on what I accomplished in 2009 and improve on my health even more. This year I will add a bit of exercise to the program.
2. Creative - Expand on what I accomplished in 2009, either by revisiting the things I scribbled and embellishing them or finding a way to make the writing process itself less of a trauma.
3. Financial - Get back into the habit of saving money and succeed this time! Also, I was asked expand on what will have a big impact on the financial front. So here it is. This is the year, theoretically, that my boss will retire. So, my options are: 1. Buy her business. 2. Start looking for a new job. Hence the need to get off my bum and do some planning.
4. Spiritual - Learn mediation and become more in touch with the worlds beyond. Hmm... How 'bout I start with getting in touch with myself, mmkay?
Now that that's out of the way, I'm pleased to announce that I managed to WRITE SOMETHING! Shocking yes. Didn't go too badly. I allotted myself an hour and I got to where I wanted to be with ten minutes to spare, so yay.
The swamp was creeping in the backyard again. Simon only noticed because he was passing by the back window on his way to the study and happened to glance out. Sighing, he put down his tea, only just missing dumping it on the floor because a stool darted out to catch the edge of cup and saucer. The stool danced a little jig as it tried to jog the teacup to the center of its seat, its metal feet clattering noisily on the floor.
“Oops.” Simon saw his error in time to avert a spill. “Here, let me help.” He nudged the tea filled cup more firmly onto the seat and the stool subsided with a little dip of acknowledgement.
Simon patted the stool. “Sorry about that.” Then he turned his attention back to shoving his feet into his sneakers. Grabbing the long pole set by the back door, Simon opened the door and went outside.
For a moment he just stood on the back steps and looked out over the yard. The door was warm and solid at his back and the doorknob nudged his hip in a familiar way. As he moved to step down, there was a squelching, rustling noise and the swamp moved up to meet him. “I thought you had this under control.”
The doorknob jabbed him firmly and he jumped away from the door, rubbing his rear and glaring over his shoulder. “No need to be rude.”
Turning back, he used the pole to poke at the marshy grass settled at the bottom of the steps. “You’re encroaching again.”
The pole sank about a foot and the marsh grasses waved jauntily as the swamp belched loudly, releasing a cloud of gas that made Simon wrinkle his nose. “Oh very nice. Is that any way to treat a friend? Who was it that saved you from being dredged and drained, hmm? Who got them to declare you a local wildlife preserve?”
The cattails drooped and the swamp pulled back exposing the walkway now soggy with water. Simon moved down, prodding the swamp back as he went until he was well along the path. “Now. What’s all this about?”
Gurgling a bit, the swamp rumbled and then spat up in the flowerbed. Simon rubbed the bridge of his nose. Not another one. “Thank you. I’ll make a note to leave the hose on longer.” One of the swamps many ponds burbled its thanks.
Simon made his way over to the bushes where the swamp had delivered their visitor. He was surprised that people still tried every so often to break into his home. His reputation as a recluse seemed to make people think he hoarded things of immense value. It was obvious the thought of possible bounty outweighed the stories of weird happenings in some people’s minds.
Pushing the limp body over with the pole he was still carrying, Simon then knelt for a closer look. Holding his hand close to the man’s face, he checked for breath though he wasn’t worried. The swamp was always careful not to hurt the trespassers.
1. Physical - Build on what I accomplished in 2009 and improve on my health even more. This year I will add a bit of exercise to the program.
2. Creative - Expand on what I accomplished in 2009, either by revisiting the things I scribbled and embellishing them or finding a way to make the writing process itself less of a trauma.
3. Financial - Get back into the habit of saving money and succeed this time! Also, I was asked expand on what will have a big impact on the financial front. So here it is. This is the year, theoretically, that my boss will retire. So, my options are: 1. Buy her business. 2. Start looking for a new job. Hence the need to get off my bum and do some planning.
4. Spiritual - Learn mediation and become more in touch with the worlds beyond. Hmm... How 'bout I start with getting in touch with myself, mmkay?
Now that that's out of the way, I'm pleased to announce that I managed to WRITE SOMETHING! Shocking yes. Didn't go too badly. I allotted myself an hour and I got to where I wanted to be with ten minutes to spare, so yay.
The swamp was creeping in the backyard again. Simon only noticed because he was passing by the back window on his way to the study and happened to glance out. Sighing, he put down his tea, only just missing dumping it on the floor because a stool darted out to catch the edge of cup and saucer. The stool danced a little jig as it tried to jog the teacup to the center of its seat, its metal feet clattering noisily on the floor.
“Oops.” Simon saw his error in time to avert a spill. “Here, let me help.” He nudged the tea filled cup more firmly onto the seat and the stool subsided with a little dip of acknowledgement.
Simon patted the stool. “Sorry about that.” Then he turned his attention back to shoving his feet into his sneakers. Grabbing the long pole set by the back door, Simon opened the door and went outside.
For a moment he just stood on the back steps and looked out over the yard. The door was warm and solid at his back and the doorknob nudged his hip in a familiar way. As he moved to step down, there was a squelching, rustling noise and the swamp moved up to meet him. “I thought you had this under control.”
The doorknob jabbed him firmly and he jumped away from the door, rubbing his rear and glaring over his shoulder. “No need to be rude.”
Turning back, he used the pole to poke at the marshy grass settled at the bottom of the steps. “You’re encroaching again.”
The pole sank about a foot and the marsh grasses waved jauntily as the swamp belched loudly, releasing a cloud of gas that made Simon wrinkle his nose. “Oh very nice. Is that any way to treat a friend? Who was it that saved you from being dredged and drained, hmm? Who got them to declare you a local wildlife preserve?”
The cattails drooped and the swamp pulled back exposing the walkway now soggy with water. Simon moved down, prodding the swamp back as he went until he was well along the path. “Now. What’s all this about?”
Gurgling a bit, the swamp rumbled and then spat up in the flowerbed. Simon rubbed the bridge of his nose. Not another one. “Thank you. I’ll make a note to leave the hose on longer.” One of the swamps many ponds burbled its thanks.
Simon made his way over to the bushes where the swamp had delivered their visitor. He was surprised that people still tried every so often to break into his home. His reputation as a recluse seemed to make people think he hoarded things of immense value. It was obvious the thought of possible bounty outweighed the stories of weird happenings in some people’s minds.
Pushing the limp body over with the pole he was still carrying, Simon then knelt for a closer look. Holding his hand close to the man’s face, he checked for breath though he wasn’t worried. The swamp was always careful not to hurt the trespassers.
