Climate is what we expect, weather is what we get. (Mark Twain)

Hope everyone had a happy Christmas. I took an unheard of five days off from virtually everything, although I did get some work done on the last rounds of edits for the book and outlined book two on my cousin’s couch. Christmas hell went well and Joe’s birthday went better. Like he said, with my family, you can get as drunk as you want because everybody else is right there with ya and if you make an ass out of yourself, no one will remember.

The livestock fared well while we were away and the crippled cow seemed a little better today. Her ankles weren’t quite to fucked (technical farmer term). Dad and I did wood today. It was really nice out until about 3 p.m. when the wind came up and it got real dark. So we hustled around, got the load home and put the equipment away before a tree fell on our heads. The winds have been insane here the last few days. Like 45 mph gusts. And thunderstorms. Who gets thunderstorms in Michigan in December? I ask you.

I finished The Count of Monte Cristo over break. Great read. It feels really satisfying to finish a book that huge. If I was real ambitious, I’d learn French and read all this shit in the unabridged French version, but I’m lazy and took Spanish in college besides. I started Dracula the other day, after finishing Stephen King’s On Writing and Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert. It sounds like I’ve been doing a lot more reading than I have though. The book has consumed my life the past few weeks, much to the detriment of my health and relationships. Maybe I need writer’s/reader’s rehab: “I am a writer, but I can change… Reading has destroyed my relationships. I hide book purchases from my significant other…”

Okay, I need a snack and a workout. Slap-happy Ax is never good.