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As the season changes again from early autumn glory into endless darkness, I feel myself changing gears too. Not just in my activities as I’ve mentioned before, but also inside. It’s not yet noticable to you perhaps, but my blogging gear feels different somehow. I want to say other things, and differently, but how or what exactly hasn’t emerged yet.

November appears to be a silent month. A cold, grey, muddy silence, that is, when the winds aren’t howling with rage. Inside and out. Perhaps I don’t really want to say anything, but haven’t realized it yet. Or I do, but why?

I thought this was going to be a writing winter for me. Not any kind of monthly challenge or reporting to anyone; just because I felt like it and my thumb still can’t knit or the various other things I’d planned, but it can type, sortof. Or I can type without it, rather. But I could be wrong. My creative channels are static at the moment so I find myself on the sofa with Neil Gaiman, who appears to have fiber optics installed.

I may be back eventually, you’ll just have to wait and see, won’t you. 😉 It could be tomorrow, or next year. I don’t even have a pretty picture for you today, you’ll have to go find one yourself on the other blog. Could be false alarm too, and I’ll continue my regular nonsense before you can blink an eye!

And no worries – I’m not any kind of depressed or such. Just odd. Probably a normal reaction when you have to adapt to an unwanted situation. From extreme high to wallowing in the mud!

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