(no subject)

[kittydesade]

Answer in the negative.
Mar shampla: Ar chuir tú an litir sa phost?
Níor chuir.

Ar bhuail tú le Peadar fós?
Níor bhuail mé.
Ar éirigh tú go luath ar maidin?
Níor d'éirigh mé.
Ar ól tú uisce bheatha riamh?
Níor d'ól mé.
Ar tháinigh Séamas fós?
Níor tháinigh Séamas.
An bhfuair tú an seic fós?
Ní bhfuair mé.
An ndearna tú dearmad ar an leabhar?
Ní dhearna mé.
An ndeachaigh tú go Luimneach inné?
Ní dheachaigh mé.


My weeping cherry has exploded in blossoms. It's gorgeous. I love it good.

I also need to develop more focus after dinner to get the writing I need to do, done. Because that hasn't been happening, and, argh. It puts me behind. I hope some/most of that is just the upheaval of last week still settling. I know some of it is that I ended up doing Person of Interest last minute post things for a while and thus started dinner late, which, eh, but it was leftovers, which wasn't that long or exhausting. Well, making biscuits, but still. And I should have been able to focus more on the writing. Silly Jag.

Ah well, apart from that, things seem to be going pretty well on the writing/drafting front. I have another blog post going up today, I drafted another blog post to go out later, I may come up with some more material for future posts. I do have one idea, but that won't be a thing till September or later. I'm sure something else will come up, though. I need to keep drafting, I need to finish some extra scenes and then start edits in the big thing. Ulp.

Part of me is still fucking terrified of doing this, putting all that material out there where the world can see it. And I want to crawl back in and hide.

(I'm not, of course. I've come too far for anything else, as the mad god said. But good lord it's terrifying.)