Life. It goes too fast. Where have I been for two months? That’s like two years in blogging time.
…In Colorado recording an audio book of Hit By a Farm, which will be out next spring from DogEar Audio.
…Dealing with a wonky heart thing that turned out to be non-life-threatening premature atrial beats. Thank goodness they’ve settled down so it doesn’t feel as if my heart is trying to beat its way out of my chest. Very distracting.
…Writing, writing, writing. Turned in the final draft of my new memoir, called Sheepish: Two Women, Fifty Acres, and Enough Wool to Save the Planet. Turned in the next draft of my children’s novel, Barn Boot Blues. Good heavens. When am I going to stop writing about this farm?
The current Sheepish cover is great—black, with lime green title, author name in hot pink, and subtitle in orange. There’s a white sheep wearing a lime green knit cap and scarf. Very funny. I’d post it, but the Sales people haven’t approved it yet (and I can’t figure out how to convert a pdf file into a jpg.)
Also, don’t get me started on Sales and Marketing—my editor likes the cover and the art director likes it, but Sales and Marketing people run the publishing industry now. If Sales doesn’t approve the cover, I might have to throw an Author Fit. I’m not really sure what that might look like, but it won’t be pretty. I wonder if there’s an online Author Guide to Throwing a Fit.
…Taking care of the farm while Melissa went hunting for a weekend. Unfortunately she came back with a bad head cold, which might affect her plans to go hunting again next week. Good news is our hunting dog Molly is shaping up nicely, and LOVES to be in the woods tracking down birds.
…Naming the ram. Our ram (thanks for all the suggestions) has ended up with this name:
Inigo Montoya. (“You killed my father. Prepare to die.”)
If this name has no meaning for you, run (don’t walk) to your library and check out the movie (or the book), The Princess Bride.
…Naming the new male duck. Melissa chose Atal Bihari Vajpayee, the former prime minister of India.
Seriously. Heck of a name with which to saddle a duck. I call him Mr. Bodgepie. When Melissa bought him, his wings had been clipped. So for two months he just waddled around the farm. But yesterday I heard what sounded like a child running around on our roof. Concerned because our steep roof is not the safest of playgrounds, I went to investigate.
Mr. Bodgepie has discovered his wings. Hard to get mad at him for that.
Fall has come, and has been lovely.
Some sheep in some early-morning fog:
And a bird story….
Because we have a bank of windows on the south side of our house, birds often fly into them. Almost all of them fly away, and a few drop like stones, killed instantly. But whenever Melissa hears that telltale ‘thunk,’ she runs outside to see if she can help. If the bird is still alive, she’ll put it safely in a tree or on a post so it can catch its breath. Or she’ll put the bird, in this case a cedar waxwing, on her finger until it’s ready to fly again.
I love happy endings.