It's raining again dammit, October has turned into what November used to be

weatherwise. I got a few hours work into the shed yesterday (cold but sunny) so got about 25% of the sheathing up on the roof. All the sheathing is up on the walls except for a couple dabs over & under the rough openings for the doors. The nastiness of the change in late-season weather around here lately is threatening to put an early kibosh on the shed project, but I should be able to get the sheathing up and a protective covering of 15# felt (tar paper) on it to hold off the winter. Then some improvised door coverings - not sure what to do about the stuff in the old shed: I don't think it'll hold up another winter.

The Fiction Writing Group is evolving well; sad to have lost two of our early mainstays though we hold out hope that they'll rejoin at some point (who knows) - I think the notion of writing occupies a different place in the life & priorities of each of us. The ACT of writing is a whole different proposition from the notion of writing of course and therein lies the explanation for the fact that many of us can manage to get it together for a few hours twice a month, but not for the hour or two (or more) a day to actually be as productive as we'd like to. I include myself in this "unable to be as disciplined as we'd like to be about actually writing" crowd, but I'm working on it.

Dream Journal - another odd dream involving a house and water. The house was, as is typical of these dreams, not actually my house - as if, in the dream, my house was being played by another house. And water was collecting on the floor around a ratty old toilet (not in the least resembling either of the toilets in my ACTUAL house). I vacuumed it up with the shop vac (handy thing that wet-dry shop vac). Then it got wet again. Then I woke up & checked the actual toilet and it was fine. Then the dogs had to go out (it was about 0400) so I fed 'em & let 'em out for a minute, then went back to bed and had another snippet of a (completely unrelated) dream the details of which escape me but it involved a car (not mine) crashed into a brick wall and a search for some fugitive or other who was discovered hiding in a recess in the brick wall above. Or something like that - it wasn't completely clear to me where the guy was actually hiding; someone got their hands on him & dragged him out. Then I woke up.