Thursday, March 19, 2026

 321

GDC is over. The next hurdle is our relocation from a place that won't be around much longer. It was almost three years ago that we unpacked after coming back from Europe, a live of cardboard boxes and a Tetris'd set of furniture. Now we have a couple weeks to pack everything. It'll be heavy lifting starting this weekend. I hope we enjoy the new place. A little smaller than this one, but likely quieter. 

Thursday, February 19, 2026

 320

Almost missed today, our monthly anniversary. One with snow coming down at lunch, in small, sparse flakes and then fluffy flurries that would melt on the ground but stick to your coats, reminding you that winter is still here for a little while longer. And now I'm preparing for GDC and trying to figure out what comes next after this project has successfully wrapped up. Feels like calm before the storm, with a dusting of post-Valentine's snow. Happy monthly anniversary, my love. 


Monday, January 19, 2026

 319

Happy monthly anniversary to you. The winter is fading from the darkness into the cold sunlight when the clouds disperse in an early staging for spring. It turns the sidewalks white with frost, telling you to stay home as winter tries to stay alive. But once you see the geese going north in the sky, winter looks less intimidating. You can stare down the long evenings, knowing something better is coming. 

Friday, December 19, 2025

 318

The final monthly anniversary for the year. The year is almost closed. Soon, the holiday gambit of obligations and expectations, and then they null space between Christmas and the end of the year when the forced cheer is over and you have our own time in the winter quiet. I'm grateful this broken and bitter year is ending, and I am grateful you've been here with your kindness and support. Happy monthly anniversary.

Wednesday, November 19, 2025

 317

Happy monthly anniversary, my love. We are getting ready to close out this long and shaky year. It's more dark than light now, and the days are racing to the end of 2025. I'm grateful for our little stable island. I hope it remains like this for as long as possible. In the quiet moments of the night, I can float in the peace and feel grateful in ways I can't express here right now.