My birthday always makes me ponder the future and the past and my path and my existence. Makes me all existential as it were. I wonder if that happens to anyone else on their birthday.
A year ago today, my favorite author Terry Pratchett died. I hadn’t even looked at the news that day when I got up, and my husband came to me with an absolutely shocked looked on his face and asked me if I was okay; he thought I had seen it already. It was a shock to say the least, and was the final straw that threw me into what has been a year long soul searching episode. Well, likely longer, since I’m not really done searching my soul just yet…
Anyways, Sir Terry was an amazing author, and his books have been a part of my life almost as long as my second favorite author Stephen King. I grew up on Sir Terry’s Discworld and the antics of its denizens, and learned about life from those pages. It was a good 3 months before I could think about Sir Terry being dead without crying; I truly felt like I lost a family member.
I planned on doing some CSS stuff, maybe a drawing or two, but I have been sick this week with a damned cold that went through my family first so of course I got the ultra-hardy mutated version. Hopefully I’ll be done with my drawing tomorrow or Monday and can post it.