Induced to blog as often as possible by nothing less mundane than excuses heaped upon excuses slathered atop yet more excuses, I considered more often than not of late the immediate demise of this journal and its offspring.

Instead, like so many times before—but this time with far more fervency than previous considerations, I am committing myself to certain rules that must be adhered to if I am to finish Dreamdarkers, End of the Warm Season, the other novels I wish to write, and all while addressing my relocation away from Dallas to the Piney Woods of East Texas.

xenogere will be first and foremost a less frequent destination, fare being proffered every two or three days at most, more frequently from time to time if circumstances warrant.  This begins immediately.  (Keep in mind that I will be apt to post more often while on call for work since that task makes it impossible to focus on any serious writing efforts.)

With push technology (RSS) now defining the blogosphere and all other corners of Web 2.0, I doubt the change will impact many.

xenogere unseen will continue in the same spirit with which it began: I will post there when I have something to share.  That determination rests entirely on how much time I think is needed to tender something.

Another piece of this is a further reduction in the number of blogs I read.  I hate to leave behind any of them; doing so is necessary though, and will take place.  Basically, this is a subjective endeavor and cannot be defined by any set rules.  What goes will go and what stays will stay.

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The cicada killer numbers are greatly reduced this year.  I suspect this has much to do with the monsoon season we experienced last year.  So much rain for so many months diminished the number of cicadas, and that in turn reduced the number of wasp offspring buried for this summer’s spell.

They still swarm with great presence, just not as great as so many summers before.  Likewise, the song of cicadas appears drastically lessened now, a sign that the annual species suffered under the constant deluges that besieged our state throughout most of their usual period in 2007.

Climactic decreases notwithstanding, the wasp colony fully stretches around three sides of the house, from the north corner of the garage on the east side to the north corner of the patio on the west side, consuming three full quarters of the perimeter.  I intend to enjoy this marvel of nature as much as possible since I fear I may never wallow in their company again, what with my relocation taking me to places where I have never seen their kind.

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I don’t feel well again.  Or still.  It doesn’t help that I worked until three this morning and am so tired that I can barely stand.

What’s up with that?

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I shall miss this place, this magical realm wherein I lose myself all too easily, this fantastic oasis of nature so neatly contained by urban sprawl and city landscapes.

Memories immemorial surround it, memories new and old.  Too long have I dwelt here.  And too little time have I spent amongst the beauty that defines this space.

Yet right there, just beyond a stone’s throw rests that which I hope to escape.

Ah, how I shall miss this place.

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Many things must be left behind, like relatively short commutes to visit loved ones, quick jaunts to see those who care for The Kids, all a metropolitan area provides for those in need…  The list goes on.

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Can one truly survive when the nearest liquor store is 30 minutes away?

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No matter how many times I tell myself it pays the bills, I hate my job.  Too many times have I considered giving notice—or no notice—just to get out of there.

It won’t be missed.  At all.

The people?  Yes, at least some of them, but not the environment, not the work, not the hours, not the pay, not the callous disregard, not the token gestures, not any of it.

I despise it.  I intend to make that clear in my closing remarks.

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How will they deal with this?  The Kids, I mean.

How do I move then almost 200 miles?  How do I ensure their continued well-being given so many health concerns?  How do I provide the kind of home they deserve and need whilst tossing away the comforts of a now-life for the promise of a then-life?