I think I would have to call that The Weekend Without A Breath. Hard at work Friday night until around 8:00, back at it for a full day Saturday, then a half day again on Sunday. And today shows no promise of letting up, so much of what I want to write about is just going to have to wait a day or so. There’s Friday night that needs talking about, as I stumbled sweaty and tired into some small town bar for some dinner and a beer, only to find myself hanging around to listen to some music I’ll have trouble describing. But I will, later, over on Scrinetunes, or as it’s about to be known as soon as I find the time to make the necessary changes - Scrine Song. And maybe I’ll tell you about my relocated office and the unpacking of books, because the story of books always makes a good story. Or maybe I’ll tell you about me and the boy going over to help mow my brother’s lawn on Sunday afternoon, except that isn’t all that much of a story, although it does have a great ending - me and my brother sitting on the swing, drinking beer and watching the boy go round and round on the riding mower. I hate to say it, but I may have caught a glimpse of my own future as an old man right then and then.