A stopover.

As much as I love gardening, it does swallow a load of time. My garden's breaking out in sunflowers.

I'm feeling well, now that I've found a solution to my sleep disorder: who knew that changing one's house around -- so that the "bat cave" is now the study, the study is the bedroom, and the bedroom the guest room -- would make such a difference.

Busy though. I've written a new children's story which I'll send to a publisher soon.
I've been doing the fiction editing for the SWG literary journal spring.
I've received an invitation to read in Portland, Oregon, so I'm trying to figure out how I can swing that.

I've had reports to write, and mice to trap in the garage. There's been a tonne of tick-picking. A little hammock swinging, and a fair bit of reading.

I bought these incredibly sexy slippers at a yard sale in St. Benedict.

And there have been invitations to dinner and parties ... oh we do like that.

There's been company, including my dear friend and running partner Donna:

And Logan and Taylor were out with their partners.

And after fishing, pellet gunning, a log finding mission, campfiring, and playing an acting game I made up called "Ring Ring," it was a new day. Not sunny. Not hot. Certainly not a good day for snakes, but away we went.

And 32 snakes ensued.
Another weekend, and this time I'm city bound. 'Tis a far cry from snakes and rubber boots and timber wolf scat but it might just be okay.

Go well.