Much to my surprise I found this in the paper yesterday morning. I was going to scan in the photo, but Fréttablaðið has it on their website.

Upptökum á annarri þáttaröð sjónvarpsþáttanna um Latabæ lauk nú um mánaðamótin. Alls voru teknir upp átján nýir þættir í kvikmyndaveri Latabæjar í Garðabæ og hafa um 130 kvikmyndagerðarmenn, íslenskir og erlendir, starfað við verkefnið síðastliðna sex mánuði.

Basically the article says that after six months, we’ve wrapped production on this season. I haven’t mentioned it because I was waiting for the company to make the official announcement. You might have wondered why I suddenly had so much free time on my hands.

While I wish that Rob and I could be home to celebrate with you, I trust that Mom and Steve will be able to help you with your birthday present.

I need a couple of readers for this before I submit it. 1450 words, science-fiction. Any takers?

His keys dropped to the floor. Julius stared at them, unwilling to look at his outstretched left arm. At the bandaged stump where his hand had been two weeks ago. He should be used to it by now. He should not still be trying to pass things from his right hand to his left.

The shaking started again. Julius pressed his right hand–his only hand, against his mouth so he did not vomit on the floor and breathed through his nose, reaching for calm. He imagined playing through Belparda’s Étude No. 1. It focused on bowing, on the right hand. When he was ten, Julius had learned it on a cello as big as he had been. The remembered bounce of the bow against the strings pulsed in his right hand.

He tried not to think about the fingering.

“Jules, are you all right?” Cheri’s voice made him jump.