Imagine, if you will, my bedroom. It is a palatial space, done in Wedgewood Blue in a Regency style, adorned with wholesome yet costly art, open and airy in ambience, with broad windows overlooking the ocean.

It’s nothing like that, of course. But you don’t think I’m going to describe my real bedroom, do you? You didn’t sign up for that kind of ashcan realism.

Anyway, my mornings in semi-retirement have acquired a sort of routine. I wake up way too early, as is the way of old people, and then try to get back to sleep. I can often achieve this (not always), but in between attempts, I check the email on my cell phone. You never know when translation work will show up, and they’re 7 hours ahead of us in Oslo.

This morning, I managed to get back to sleep around 7:30 a.m. I know this because that was the time when an email came in with a little job of work. Which I didn’t see until I woke up again, an hour later. The message was, “Can you do this small job? It’s not big but I need it in a couple hours.” Of which I’d already wasted one.

But I rolled out, postponed other things, and set about the task. Finished in plenty of time. Back to the usual Friday morning schedule then. Which involves washing clothes.

Shall I tell you about the new sheets I bought?

No, you’ve committed no sins to deserve that.

Maybe I should address the picture I posted above. Yes, why don’t I do that?

I posted that photo on Basefook precisely 3 years ago, when Viking Legacy was finally released, after many delays (if you want the paper version, I think this link works now). I’m still quite proud of it.

Just ordered a supply for events this summer. Did the same with West Oversea. I’m now invested in the prospect of a post-lockdown, semi-normal summer. When the paper version of The Year of the Warrior materializes, I’ll be all in.

Look at me, the avaricious capitalist risk-taker, living out my politics.