Selling what no one wants.

I say it every season. I'm happy when Christmas (and summer) get here, and happy when it goes.

I like the money. I like the activity. But all the frenetic flow and people wear me out.

I'll be content to hibernate for a couple of months.

Everything in a cycle, in waves....that's the way life should be.

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I'm going to dive into writing next week, and try to push thru to the finish. I might -- if I need to -- go on a short writing trip to kickstart the process.

I'm seeing how I've maybe set myself up for a reaction that I'm not quite prepared for. When I wrote my first books, it was more or less an impersonal process. I never met my agent or editors or the vast majority of my readers.

I'm going to be a little more vulnerable to opinions with this process. What I'm not going to do is put anyone on the spot and ask.

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I was talking about the lucky streak of warm shopping days had come to an end. Ironically, it may have helped business. I had several groups of customers mention that they had decided to skip skiing after a soggy day on the mountain.

The worst scenario for a tourist -- coming because there is good snow, and being met by bad snow -- is the best scenario for shopping.

Sorry bout that.

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Stupid wolf. Going to California. Sheesh.

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Another brewery in town.

Maybe I should get in on the action. I don't know nuttin about beer, but I figure I'll just hire a bunch of home brewers, put a cute name on it, some artsy packaging, and sell it really really cheap.

Speaking of which -- I saw so many Powell's Candy bags this Christmas, that I'm convinced it must be the busiest store in Bend.

I KNEW I should have gone into a different business -- beer, candy, drugs...something sinful.

Because selling reading material is just stupid.