In May of 1998, on my birthday, my father died. He was 76, but had been old all my life. Arthritis and a difficult life had combined to make him that way. About a year and a half earlier, he'd had a stroke, followed by a second one a few months later. The second one was more severe, and it took several months for him to make enough progress in therapy for him to return home to Mom in their apartment. Then that week in May, he had three heart attacks, possibly four. It was a brutal week for my family, one that I can still remember many of the details of quite clearly.
So, when I needed Cae's elderly father to die in *False Perceptions*, I decided to go with what I knew. At the time of outlining this book, remembering seemed easier than research. Maybe so, but that didn't make this scene an easy one to write. At the end of today's 2436 words, Moshe, the former captain of the Sphere, is dead. And I'm a little choked up.
I've got a mug of hot chocolate beside me and I'm going to try and immerse myself in some *Shann*. This week's word count is way low (6736 words), but it's just going to have to stay that way. I can't tackle another scene today; it's just not going to happen.
My friend Rustle is still hanging around. He did set off the mousetrap today, but managed to avoid being caught in it. Gotta give him some credit for brains, or something that passes for them.
I've learned to build power point presentations this week. Our worship team is up this Sunday, and I dropped off the cd with our music to the church this morning. We had a really good practice last night.
Our town was practically the hot spot in BC according to the news at seven this morning. And we were at minus eleven celsius. You gotta love it. Really. When is the first day of spring again?