Andrew has come and gone. I remembered to tell him I wrote "Swimming Back from Hell by Moonlight" for him, and he was pleased and astonished (and wanted to read it, so I e-mailed it to him while I still remembered). I'm a little afraid of it now. I'm afraid I got it wrong in ways that only Andrew would know. But I think it'll be all right; I think he'll know how to take it. About half the stories I've written for people have been yelling-at stories. Those are much easier. This one is kind of an "I'm glad there's you" story, or maybe more "I'm glad there's still you," and that's hard. (Hey,
And it's been snowing for me. Probably at the least convenient time it could have snowed lately, but it's lovely anyway. Snow!