An English wedding, ten siblings for the bride and groom -- each -- and attendant grandfolk and nephews and nieces. A very good church service, modern and old-fashioned in equal measure, emphasizing that love is more than just the warm fuzzy feelings, that it is the dedication to another person even when the fuzzy feelings subside, the decision to care for them and make them happy even when you don't feel like it. The bride and groom exchanged not "I do", but "I will". Marvelous.Church had a retro feel, as the bride's family was seated in the left pews and the groom's on the right making for thoroughly un-modern white-black separation, which was quickly remedied when, outside the church, the alcohol started flowing and bonds were forged in the fires of rum and whiskey.
Good party afterward. I admit to, perhaps, a stray thought in the direction of a nephew I hadn't seen since he was eleven and has turned into a very handsome and rather camp and very very obviously queer young man.
Only my third wedding ever, and it was a doozy. Good weather, the rain waited till we were all seated for dinner and stopped after the speeches, leaving the lawn outside the hotel reception fresh and sweet-smelling. No fights, loud conversations, and not too much singing.
Good dancing, too, though the respective families tastes were very different and the white and the black side took turns to the dance floor as upbeat britpop for the billion or so twelve to twenty-four year olds on the white side of the family was alternated with smooth reggae for the black. So smooth, those Jamaicans, even the elderly and rheumatic.
Returned to the homestead today and as I crawled, bleary-eyed after a flight that was less flying and more standing in un-airconditioned queues like cattle, I was ready to start working on FANG some more. I fired up the mental processes, trying to realize what I had to do and suddenly remembered -- nothing. It's all done. I'm just waiting now, waiting for the (hopefully) last proof copy to turn out to work right.
It was rather alienating. I wracked my brain for anything I'd forgotten, but no. With gladness in my heart I started browsing for Maranatha, to put up a fresh chapter for the eager readers who've had to go without for over a month, now, and realized that tonight, I didn't feel like it. Not in the slightest.
Weeks and weeks of reading, reviewing and editing erotica of various bents has rather dulled my delight in it. Imagine!
Not one to mope, me. If not Maranatha, then something else. Something else entirely.
http://www.osfer.com/index.php?option=com_content&task=view&id=83&... <= Listen Now to hear me crooning the story.
The result is what one might call a beginning. It isn't much, but it's something new regardless.
In defense of my timbre, it was very late and i couldn't raise my voice for fear of incurring the wrath of neighbors. Perhaps I'll retry this when I have my full volume at my disposal!
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