Heading past midnight, up writing. On the book that’s due soon (due to editor…not due in stores/cloud until next spring). Not going super-fast. While dawdling and refreshing Google Blog Search, realized I hadn’t shut the chickens in for the night. So I went out in the dark with my headlamp. Fireflies are at their peak, they must see my headlamp and think I’m juicing. The sixty-some chickens were all at roost. But the two dang ducks had apparently decided to hang out ’til the midnight hour. ‘Round and ’round we went. By the time it was all over, I was ready to go all AFLAC on their tailfeathers. But then they scuttled up the ramp, I dropped the door, and now it’s back to cussing myself as I try to get the words to line up. Sometimes this writing thing is the equivalent of throwing cotton balls at the keyboard.
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