Well, I got smart(er) and put my notebook and calendar on the night stand. It's much easier to ignore them as I get ready for bed when they're all the way across the room on my desk. (It's so far; must be all of six or seven feet.) I read through Lennie's story yesterday, Bob, and I really like where it's going. That's all I'm saying for now; you'll have to wait until Thursday for the full report.
In the shallows of Goto Meer, the flamingo chicks stand like awkward teenagers outside a new school. Not yet sleek and pink like their parents, the chicks hang their heads in embarrassment. What will eventually be smooth pink is now gray and black with just the merest hint of the shrimp pink that will distinguish them as adults. Now as adolescents it just makes them look scruffier. The couple stood on the shore their necks draped with an assortment of cameras and binoculars, but neither of them spared the slightest glance for the increasingly restless little flock. Many opportunities for distinctive and prize-winning photos was missed as they leaned closer and closer until their noses nearly touched and they sprayed each other's cheeks with angry spittle. Body language alone told other tourists in passing rental cars to keep moving. Not one of them wanted a picture of the quintet of flamingo chicks badly enough to risk having the rest of their precious holiday infected by the negative vibes fairly radiating from the pair,
Are you writing anything in your non-inspired state? I think it's the weather. At least that's my excuse this week. :-p
--Barbara
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