We're being pushed around by the weather. My favorite place to write, La Paloma Sabanera is too cold when the wind blows like this. I'm off to Borders instead.
I watched the guy across the street try to ride his bike to work, wrapped up like Ralphie in a Christmas Story (fyi, I liked the movie ok, but I didn't think it was The Best Thing Ever. Useful common imagery there though) He peddled very very slowly. I think the wind was too painful on the exposed 1 inch area around his eyes. Also peddling on snow must be tough. Like sand, maybe, but damned if I'm ever going to find out. I'm not tough or crazy, like the guy across the street.
The dog refuses to go out alone--she must think I'm going to close the door behind her and keep her out there, suspicious bitch.
But there's still heat in this house and I still get to use a car (instead of walking to the bus stop and waiting) so I'm not truly whining. All right, all right. I am. But what I mean is. . . it's mild whining. Unlike the weather which is not mild, at all.
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I have to get some pimping together. Linda has a book out!
I'm going to have TWO books out in less than two weeks. 1.25 books to be accurate. And if you consider that the one full book is actually cowritten with Bonnie, then the number is actually closer to 2/3rds .