Friday Photo

Ice Kisses

Kissed by ice sprites.

We had a long shoal of dry days and icy nights, which meant fine white hairs on everything during walkies. Boxnoggin likes to walk just as the sun is hitting great patches of foliage, warming them juuuuust enough. I like not slipping, so I wear boots.

Big boots. Which gives my calves a workout, I tell you. Now the rains have moved in, all frost is washed away, and I’m happy to hear the little tiptaps on the roof.

Plus, it’s a brand-new month! The Monthly Sales page is refreshed, including a one-day deal (She-Wolf and Cub is $1.99 in ebook today) and plenty of other scheduled goodies. (Be sure to check the dates!) I’ll be adding more as they go live during the month, but this is a good start.

I’m also going to finish The Tomb of Night today. I woke up knowing exactly how, and that’s a good feeling. So I’d best get started; I’m aching to knock off another zero draft.

See you next week!

Last Rainy Rose

Last of the season.

The very last roses; they shouldn’t linger into almost-December, but climate change is wreaking havoc and I’d like this a lot better if the slugs aren’t also enjoying somewhat of a heyday. My poor hellebores might not make it.

Anyway, what makes this rose in particular beautiful to me is the water-gilding, and the signs of damage. Boxnoggin was very patient while I got this snap, despite wanting to get on with walkies; I halt for his little sniffs and indiscretions, I figure he can halt for a shot or two.

Yesterday was an American holiday. There was a lot of challah and I think I might have some leftover pie for brekkie. First, though, coffee needs to be absorbed…and some planning for the last third of the NaNo novel must needs be done. (50k is only the beginning…)

Have a lovely weekend, my dears.

Another Castle

Itsa me!

Boxnoggin and I made this fellow’s acquaintance lately during walkies; he lingered at the base of a tree for about a week. The recent rains may have washed him away…or his princess might be in another castle. Either way, I wish him well.

I’ve got a weekend full of work in front of me, but I might manage to take a half-day off somewhere in there. (We can hope.) At least it’s raining, and next week I can run again.

See you Monday.

Good Folks’ Goblet

A tiny goblet, for sipping dew…

The damp chill has been very good for mushrooms, and the Princess snagged a shot of this one earlier in the week. Just a wee little cup, minding its own business.

I’m still consumed by the portal fantasy, and resenting anything that takes me away–even caring for the meatsack carrying me around. I might even have to pick another project for NaNoWriMo, since this one seems determined to finish a zero as soon as possible.

There are worse problems to have. And I’ve cleared the weekend for working on this, so we’ll see how long my wrists hold out.

Have a lovely weekend, my dears.

Luxury Before Winter

Life, ah, finds a way…

My wrists ache. Yesterday was 5k worth of portal fantasy, and I’m sure today will be similar. Sometimes a story just wants to be born and there’s nothing one can do. Of course, I’m also letting the Muse have her way because the weekend will be taken up with proofs and come Monday I must begin revision on Gamble, so said portal fantasy will have to take a back seat.

I’ll still moonlight with it, of course. Yet stolen time, while delicious, is not the same as being able to luxuriate in a whole day writing only what the Muse wants.

Also, the rains have moved in, so the torpor of late summer draught has been broken by a furious burst of activity. The squirrels are busy gorging themselves on fallen apples, the compost heap is sending up trails of steam on chill mornings as the damp makes life easier for beneficial rot inside, I am producing words at an astonishing rate…and the moss, not long ago dead-dry and brown on granite shoulders, has burst into luxuriant green.

We all spent a long time waiting. Now it’s the busy season before winter’s long dream. I’m ever so ready, and apparently the bryophyta are too.

Have a lovely weekend, my dears.

Gamble and Rose

One last lone rose.

Well, it’s not the last rose, but it was the one I stopped to take a whiff of before the rains moved in. You can see the heat damage on the petals, but I think that makes it all the more beautiful.

I finished the zero draft of Gamble yesterday, in a blaze of…something, I hesitate to call it glory. The draft is a mess, full of holes and brackets, but it’s done and the pole-dancing scene gets to stay in because the structure shifted to accommodate it. (Or it was always meant to be structured that way and I couldn’t see as much, being head-down in the oubliette.)

The weekend will no doubt be spent catching up with all the things I put aside once this book decided to leap for the finish, and then I get to let the zero rest while I slot another book into that working spot. It’ll need at least a week of sitting and marinating before I can get even a fraction of the required distance in order to revise it.

But that’s a problem for another day. Right now there’s coffee, and one last rose.

Happy Friday the 13th. I think it’s going to be a good one.

Tiny Sorcery

So much depends…

“Oh look,” my son said yesterday, while we were taking out both the rubbish and the dog (though for vastly different reasons). “Mushroom!”

They’re older now, but my kids are still the same. Look at the world, Mum. Isn’t it wonderful? It’s the same principle that makes us all yell, “Cow!” when out driving in rural areas, or “Horsie!” Or even, when we are exceedingly fortunate, “Llama! There’s a llama!”

Little drops of dew clinging to the rim of a mushroom’s cap. A thin stray knife of sunshine touching the side of a house. A single leaf falling. A child’s wondering cry. Even in the backyard there is magic. It lingers, asking only that we notice for the briefest of moments.

Have a lovely weekend.