There were some spatters of rain last night, and I woke up with Taylor Swift playing in my head so I can tell today’s run will be full of amusement. At least with the relatively late start I should miss a lot of the panic from drivers on suddenly slick roads. We got just enough to tamp the dust down a bit and make the roads glistenThere is with oil rising to the top–and believe me, I’m not complaining. My soul has expanded a fraction, what with any water falling from the sky. It’s cleaned some of the ash out of the air, too, which is all to the good.
I’ve also got to get through Boxnoggin’s walk, which will be a wonderland of damp things he has to stick his nose in. Again, not a complaint–he’ll be thrilled even though his paws will get wet, and I won’t die of heatstroke coming up that one hill on our route. It’s a win-win!
I meant to work the weekend through on copyedits for Dead God’s Heart, but the Chihuahua of Real Life was coming at my ankles with abandon. The decks are now cleared (mostly), and today it’s back to eyeballing Track Changes. And tomorrow is release day for That Damn Werelion Book, so I’ll be a huge ball of nerves, happy to have anything distracting on tap.
On the bright side, a lot of things I’ve been putting off got dealt with in the past two days. Including a wee bit of website maintenance that should be all but invisible–in publishing, as in websites, what you don’t see is a lot of work. There was also an incident with boiling pasta water which means my typing speed is a fraction less than usual because my right paw is a bit less dextrous than usual.
In any case, once the copyedits are out the door it’ll be time for revisions on Cold North while I get another chunk of Hell’s Acre done–but I’ve got to get the damn CEs dealt with first. Which will light a fire under me, I’m sure. It’s only 350 more pages, how long could it take?
There is a lovely cool breeze through my office window. The trees are taking a deep breath and waiting for more hope to fall. The season has shifted, and though we’ll no doubt have a stretch of false summer, after that the rains will sweep in and everything will be able to heave a sigh of relief. I may even see a changed leaf or two while waiting for Boxnoggin to get his nose out of a clump of wet greenery, and that’s a happy thought.
I suppose I’d better move for the toaster. Boxnoggin will be finishing his morning nap anon, and we all know what that means. If you hear a scream of despair in the distance later, don’t worry–it’s just me looking at these damn CEs.
See you around.