A Graveyard House

Well, here in Sweden the trees are already starting to turn. The summer has pretty much come and gone without much to show for it other than high vet bills. Sally Kitty is doing all right, though I can’t really say she’s doing well. Her latest blood work has shown her kidney function has worsened, as has her rather severe pancreatic inflammation. Yet even for all that, she’s pretty chipper, affectionate, and eats well. So, that’s something, at least.

Anyway, aside from visiting the vet every other week, we’ve spent a lot of time house hunting. Well, not so much during July, as the country generally shuts down during the month as everyone goes on vacation. But it’s definitely started up again as houses are once again listed.


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Checking In

Sally Under a BlanketSo, apparently I’ve tumbled down into my hidey-hole and am finding the climb back out… laborious. Things were going OK. Ronel the Mythmaker nominated me for the Mystery Blogger Award, which was cool and I intended on accepting and even started the post for it. Then I found out my elder cat’s health is declining, resulting in numerous, (and still ongoing) vet visits, and it was like the air was sucked out of me.


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For posterity, this year’s A to Z Challenge will henceforth be known as, “The Year I Fell Behind on Visiting and Commenting and Never Caught Up.” Catchy, yes?

It started off well enough. Probably because it was a Saturday, and I was able to spend a fair amount of time that first weekend visiting and commenting. But then Monday rolled around, and it pretty much went downhill from there. That’s not to say I didn’t spend a fair amount of time visiting and commenting the following weeks. I did. As much as I could spare/mentally handle. But it felt like no matter how much time I spent, it was never enough.


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Previous: Fastened Friendship

 

They waited a few more days to allow Hemlock time to recover, then made the journey back to the Grove. Hazel had mixed feelings about it all. On the one hand she was glad to be returning home, but on the other she was afraid she wouldn’t recognize it—or herself—once she got there. Other than undoing her mother’s geas, nothing had gone the way she had expected. She hadn’t ever thought she would turn to necromancy—she especially never thought she’d find beauty in what was supposed to be a grim, dreadful discipline. She didn’t know what to think anymore, and so she didn’t know what to expect when returning home.

Both she and Holly had their noses to the windows as the carriage rolled up in front of their cottage. They both got out and remained on the road as the driver unloaded their luggage from the rack up top.


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Previous: A Future Found

 

Tum toddled down to the common room as Holly trailed after him. Hawthorn sat at a table, sipping some wine, and Tum clambered onto an empty chair beside him.

“Of all the empty tables,” Hawthorn said, “you have to sit right there? Go find somewhere else.”

“It’s rude to let someone sit alone, you know. Tum’s nothing if not polite.”

“Oh, I can think of a few things that Tum is.”


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