Sorry I missed last week, and honestly I am not so sure about next week.

My recurring ambition to publish regularly and reflect in fast turnaround on the here and now is undergoing its recurring butting-up-against my ambition to write in a longer form toward something that might, if I can swing it, feel more timeless.

Which is to say I have suddenly detected signs of interest in something more booklike/length bubbling up in myself, and of course there is only so much time in the day.

All of that is to say that it seems I'll need to spend some of the time I usually spend on my essays each morning exploring this possible new direction. This happens regularly and regularly goes nowhere, so don't get excited (assuming such a prospect excites you anyway, which I suppose is a big assumption).

This week, perhaps fittingly for the essay just before a hiatus, I am returning to my roots: turtles and family life. For a bit of spice, however, there is reference to a crime.

Enjoy, thanks for reading!