Writer's cramp

If this blog was all you had to go by, you'd think I had completely given up on the RV-12. While that's at least partially true, I have in fact been working on it now and then; I'm still working on the right side flaperon. Since the right side flaperon is pretty much just like the left side flaperon (with the notable difference of not having a helpful picture to follow in the plans unless you hold them up to a mirror), I haven't felt compelled to write much about it.

It's also the case that I'm getting a little burned out on writing. Having just finished a major systems and processes documentation effort at the paying job, I had hoped for a week away from the keyboard (at least a week away from prose; I was enthusiastic about getting back to the ever more gratifying writing of C# code) to recharge. It wasn't to be. The game reviews that I write, those being of a feast or famine nature, chose last week to provide a feast. Five, FIVE reviews, right out of the blue. I enjoy doing them (or, obviously, I wouldn't do them) but they are a major time drain. A simple game or a piece of hardware take three to five hours each just in playing or research, then at least another hour or two to write. A complex game or a game that I hate (or both, in the case of the one that I've been putting off) can take much longer.

So, one is published, one is written and staged for publish, and three yet to be written.

In case you're interested, here's the one that's published:

http://www.gamingnexus.com/Article/Need-for-Speed-SHIFT-2/Item3017.aspx

And, if that's not enough, now it's mowing season. I hate mowing season. We had it all figured out, though. This year we'd pay Co-pilot Egg's boyfriend, Case, to mow for us. We'd pay him the money that we have already been spending by taking them to dinner with us or forking over a $20 when they want to go to a movie. The financial outlay will remain the same, but the lawn will get mowed too. It was the perfect plan, albeit cunningly nefarious. We couldn't in clear conscience (and by 'we', I mean my wife) put him on the poorly maintained mower I have grown to loath yet tolerate; no, we would have to have someone come clean/fix it up a bit.

Over $300 later, it looked great! A new bearing somewhere down in the moving parts, new anti-scuff wheels on the mowing deck, and three brand new, pristine mowing blades rounded out the general cleaning and tuning. I showed Case how to start the thing and perform necessary operations like engaging the blades, move in forward and reverse, and set the parking brake. I then walked him around the palatial estate showing him areas where extra caution would be required to avoid damage to the mower or fixed assets on the property. I know whereof I speak; I myself have done brilliant things like running in the curbside water stop (which broke the weldments on the mower deck to the tune of $700+ in repairs, that burden thankfully being covered under warranty for some reason), the septic leach field standing vent pipes, the various pipes and hoses that run into and out of the manse itself, and getting stuck between a tree and the fence.

Safe in the knowledge that I had adequately trained young Mr. Case, I trustingly sent him off with my spiffily cleaned and repaired mower, anxious to see how those brand new blades would cut the young spring grass.

Not five minutes later, the blades were no longer virginally sharp, and the curb side water stop lay in ruins.

Somewhat of a Karmic retribution, that.