So basically perfect February weather in Wisconsin. How windy is it? Well, when I opened the patio curtain this morning the birdie tree had blown over. I nipped right out to stand it back up. At least it's not snowing. Shh, I shouldn't say that too loud, I might give Mother Nature ideas--and we're intending to flee for a few days when I get off work tonight. There was a momentary peek of sunshine about an hour ago; I nipped right out and captured that too.
I finished the Fishtail cloth at work yesterday. The only thing that draws my eye away from the whole is the fact that the bottom is scalloped and the top isn't. There's nothing I can do about it, block the daylights out of it I suppose, so that until it gets wet again it'll be square but since the purpose of the facecloth is to wash things, it won't be dry and square for long. So... *shrugs*
I've been working on the brown blob too. See how big it's getting?
The woman that coaches the writing retreat I take up at The Clearing each year sent me an email about a contest for unpublished novels the other day wondering if I'd be interested. I think I am. So I've been working to get the best 2,500 words arranged as the beginning of the one I'm working on because the deadline's Monday. Even if I'm not a finalist I'll get critiques from a few judges, that'll be helpful because sometimes I feel like I'm writing in a circle of friends. Hearing what a stranger thinks gives a more objective slant, I think. Last night I hacked off Chapters 1 & 2 (I'll sprinkle their info in later) so that the opening grabs the reader right off. This writing thing is hard sometimes.
February 25--John Kieffer, Morning Mist. Jane sat on the dock even though it was soaked with dew and last night's rain. Steam rose from the coffee mug she held in both hands. Mist rose from the flat water and shrouded the riot of colored leaves on the opposite shore. This was the last weekend of the season. Tomorrow she and Glen would start storing things and draining the pipes, getting the place ready to close up for winter. She hated this day. She wasn't ready for the summer to end. She wanted one more week of eating all her meals outdoors before she had to layer on more and more clothes just to go out for the mail. She saw movement in the mist. At first she couldn't figure out what she was seeing but as it got nearer she realized it was a deer swimming across. It stepped carefully over the rocky shallows, glanced at her, and then walked calmly down the beach.
I've got to go check my packing list(s) one last time, then get ready for work, and zoom off to get this day started. Toodles.
--Barbara
2 comments:
So very windy down here -- but not the torrential rain that was forecast. Love your fishtail wash cloth. Definitely too pretty for just doing the dishes!
I see my comment on this day's blog was meant for yesterday's! But here's today's "reply" to your daily ruminations: Like Jane, I've seen a deer swimming -- but across the Intracoastal Waterway -- and it's always a startling sight. Also, I agree that writing is hard! I cannot imagine tackling even a chapter -- much less an entire book. But love your idea of new eyes on your latest offering. Have fun on your little getaway!
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