Wednesday, August 25, 2010

You Can Stop Worrying

I spent all of yesterday, except when I was mowing the lawn, working to get the press release written. Once again transcribing my notes helped me start and then reading my first effort aloud to Durwood helped cut the deadwood and nudge me toward a good ending. So by bedtime I was pretty confident that I had it in the bag. I'll read it through once I'm reliably awake, and if it's acceptable, I'll email it off to The Clearing with the photos I took. If they don't have major objections or changes that need to be made I'm set. They'll be submitting it to the Pulse for me since they're always sending stuff over. Oh, I can't forget to send a copy to Wendy too. Thanks for the reminder.

August 24--San Paolo, Italy. The house looked like it had grown out of the chilly blue lake. It was painted a sunny yellow orange that complemented the terra cotta roof tiles and the arched windows fired Lucy's imagination. She pictured dark-eyed young women in dark dresses sulking, their full lips pursed redly with temperament. She heard rapid-fire Italian echoing through the halls as her imaginary Juliet was denied permission to go out with Romeo. She chided herself for letting her romantic heart overrun her thoughts. She could see tennis courts through the trees behind the house and decided that the place was probably owned by some businessman with spoiled and selfish daughters who cared for no one but themselves.

Sorry that's boring. Guess I'd used up all my interesting words and ideas by the time I got to this last night.

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