Passing Swiftly

I think there is no better way to lose track of time, than to become a parent. It seems like only yesterday that my natal date was celebrated, and my son also brought into this world. He was small, and perfect, if encumbered with the same crop of wild black curls his mother and I have worn all our lives.

Almost four turnings have come and gone since that event, and we returned from Cos so that I might catch up with my work here in Ar. A nanny was hired to help out, two slaves rented from the city kennels, but there is still much to be done. We learned early on that he possessed an uncanny ability to communicate that implied he understood what we said far sooner than he should have been able to do. Still, his grandfather was Zamalan, the brilliant madman. So, we cannot really be surprised by it. We spend ahns at night in what I call conversation, and he is my greatest joy in life.

The school fares well, and I have been putting plans into effect to open a bookshop that specializes in texts of a more scandalous variety. There will be alcoves in the back for the inspired readers. I thought it a better idea for a Scribe to have such a thing, particularly since I don't drink paga, and the dens are common enough here in Ar.