So this whole holiday thing is behind me, right? I can breathe now? Get my life back? Yeah? Okay, just checking.
Yes, it was a hectic season. We drove out to see the folks in Wyoming, and weather fought us both coming and going. Black ice, sheet ice, icy ice – you name it, we drove on it. About two hours into our drive, we were attacked by suicidal birds. No, I’m not kidding. Normally if you drive through a flock of birds, they fly away from your vehicle. Not this batch. They flew into us! Thought the little suckers might take out the windshield. By the time we were through them, I’d taken out three and we were still intact. Score one on my mass-murderer rating. Several hours later I took out a jack rabbit in Wyoming. I was then a mass murderer in two states. Just call me Charles Starkweather. Not a good omen for the start of our “vacation.”
(Just a note here: on our way home a week later, that same stretch of road where I took out the rabbit was littered with poor little bunny carcasses. Apparently I was not the only one thumping Thumper that week. We actually started making jokes about Bit-O-Bunny. Remember Bit-O-Honey candy? This is distinctly bloodier.)
So yeah, not a pleasant start to the week. Then there was the whole plumbing issue on Christmas Day. I won’t go into detail, but it involved my father and me shop vacuuming water out of the basement hallway on Christmas night, and seven people in one house with no bathroom for twelve hours. It wasn’t pretty.
At any rate, we’re home at last and life has to return to normal somehow. And normal for this spring means writing my buns off. I’m planning to go to RWA National Convention in San Francisco in July. To justify spending the eight gazillion dollars that requires, I need to finish GUYS AND DOGS and get it ready to pitch. So I need to get the Bit-O-Bunny out of my head, move past the twelve hour plumbing standoff, and get off – no, on – my rear and write.
Wish me luck!