FINALLY, an update.
Life has been a Bear (pun intended) lately, and I have had to let a lot of things go. NOT MY FAULT, as we shall c.
Catch-up (Playing).
I finally have finished the interior revisions (2nd round) for Dime A Dance, bk 1 pt 2. YAY. They have gone to production and am merely waiting now for the corrected galleys to be returned to me for approval. IF I DO! Finicky Ah ith.
Also finished the image revisions for the interior. Again. Pfui. These two things consumed almost three weeks of my already bizzy life...and I DO mean consumed.
Also got sucked, so to speak, into being in the middle of the dedication ceremony for my ancestor. Decorated hero of three wars. (The Bush-Kerrey debates, The Battle between the sissies, and the (Mostly Civil) War. (How civil can it be, when people are shooting at each other).
Yeth thur. My ancestor wath out there wif the best of them, was ol' Henry. Up in a tree limb...tossing fruits and berries, dead squirrels, and pails of maple syrup at the armed warriors below. The syrup thing was a real stroke of genius. Got in the equipment and metastasized. (Got good and sticky and gummed up the workies). Also got in their hair, and all over their clothes...and you KNOW how sissies are about their appearance.
Yep. They kept breaking ranks to go to the baths, and the SAL LAHN....Oh it was a treat to behold.
It would be bedlam and then there would be a large splat. Then it would all get very verr quiet.
Okay. not that quiet.
"MARRRY. Look at MY NEW UNIFORM! EEEEEEEEEEEEK!"
"OUTFIT? LOOK AT MAH HAIR? I AM RUINED!"
Then, everyone would toss aside their cannons, rifles, pistols, bow and arrows, microphones, hair dryers, Mini-make-up kits, lipstick, and RUNNNNNNNN to the exits.
I lived for those times. Gunfire ith REALLY HARD to seepy through.
SO, anyway, some pervert decided that for all Henry's hard work (Tossing his syrup? His COOKIES? How hard could it be. He was doing that in his high chair...only last week).
HE SHOULD BE FETED and honored with a MONUMENT.
Monumental mistake, methinks. He will be SO hard to live with now.
What? He's DEAD?
EVEN WORSE.
Oh, what an event it wath. Dignitaries from everywhere. The town drunk came all the way from De-tox. Aunt Esmeralda Bear and her sister Theodora came over from Oshkosh (By gosh).
Urgh. I HATE little old female Bears who tweak the cheeks of everyone under the age of 104. I STILL look like I'm blushing. Okay, maybe that is the case. YOO HOO? MAKE-UP?
Some bigsnots came from Washington D.C. WHOO HOO. AH wath jest all over kummy...and Bear got to sit 'tween them. I'm still checking my wallet. Came from Chicago, Detroit, Grand Rapids, jest everywhar.
I got to give a speech. HIGHLIGHT OF THE ENTIRE SHEBANG. I got a STAN...SITT...
okay. They noticed and applauded politely.
Then the big wiggies all tawked, but not NEAR as intersting as Bear.
Then they laid dirt from Henry's home forest in Vermont which had been shipped in.
LITTLE LATE TO BE COVERING HIM WITH DIRT, doncha think? He died in 1885. Geez.
Laid wreaths. (Better late than never dept). Then there was a firing line. I was tawking with one of the BIG SNOTS, and didn't hear that little announcement. Suddenly, a whole bunch of guns started going off.
I DOVE FOR THE CAVE. (Thoo embarrassing. Big cemetary, and NO CAVE. I am still trying to get the dirt out of mah reddened cheekies).
Then MOOSIC. Brought in speshul. (Recording artiste friend of mine, with accompaniment. WHOO HOO).
Finally, after a whole bunch of mucky-muck, the closing prayer. By now I needed one.
THEN, the photo-ops. Bear ran and hid. BUT, one of the BIG SNOTS found me and...
I shall forever more be ensconced in his office. Big WHOOP! Embarrassing.
I held up my bookie (in front of mah fathe). I held up a GAWJUS wooden box that Henry hand-carved while stationed at Fort Morgan during the battle of Mobile Bay...and gave a short recitation about it. (All kidding aside, it IS beautiful. It sits on a large 3-drawer chest that sits in mah foyer...next to a deacon's bench that originally sat in the home of Josiah Bartlett (in the 1700's). He was the first signer of the Declaration of Independence. Another big whoop.
A good time was had by all, from what I remember. I had gone to it on less than 2 hours sleep, cause of editing. Came right home and back at it again.
WHOO HOO!
The fourth of july went by with me chained to the computer.
So that is my life. Write, Edit, proofread.
HEY! Just when does the counting $$$ start.
What?
Smart ath.
Db
Life has been a Bear (pun intended) lately, and I have had to let a lot of things go. NOT MY FAULT, as we shall c.
Catch-up (Playing).
I finally have finished the interior revisions (2nd round) for Dime A Dance, bk 1 pt 2. YAY. They have gone to production and am merely waiting now for the corrected galleys to be returned to me for approval. IF I DO! Finicky Ah ith.
Also finished the image revisions for the interior. Again. Pfui. These two things consumed almost three weeks of my already bizzy life...and I DO mean consumed.
Also got sucked, so to speak, into being in the middle of the dedication ceremony for my ancestor. Decorated hero of three wars. (The Bush-Kerrey debates, The Battle between the sissies, and the (Mostly Civil) War. (How civil can it be, when people are shooting at each other).
Yeth thur. My ancestor wath out there wif the best of them, was ol' Henry. Up in a tree limb...tossing fruits and berries, dead squirrels, and pails of maple syrup at the armed warriors below. The syrup thing was a real stroke of genius. Got in the equipment and metastasized. (Got good and sticky and gummed up the workies). Also got in their hair, and all over their clothes...and you KNOW how sissies are about their appearance.
Yep. They kept breaking ranks to go to the baths, and the SAL LAHN....Oh it was a treat to behold.
It would be bedlam and then there would be a large splat. Then it would all get very verr quiet.
Okay. not that quiet.
"MARRRY. Look at MY NEW UNIFORM! EEEEEEEEEEEEK!"
"OUTFIT? LOOK AT MAH HAIR? I AM RUINED!"
Then, everyone would toss aside their cannons, rifles, pistols, bow and arrows, microphones, hair dryers, Mini-make-up kits, lipstick, and RUNNNNNNNN to the exits.
I lived for those times. Gunfire ith REALLY HARD to seepy through.
SO, anyway, some pervert decided that for all Henry's hard work (Tossing his syrup? His COOKIES? How hard could it be. He was doing that in his high chair...only last week).
HE SHOULD BE FETED and honored with a MONUMENT.
Monumental mistake, methinks. He will be SO hard to live with now.
What? He's DEAD?
EVEN WORSE.
Oh, what an event it wath. Dignitaries from everywhere. The town drunk came all the way from De-tox. Aunt Esmeralda Bear and her sister Theodora came over from Oshkosh (By gosh).
Urgh. I HATE little old female Bears who tweak the cheeks of everyone under the age of 104. I STILL look like I'm blushing. Okay, maybe that is the case. YOO HOO? MAKE-UP?
Some bigsnots came from Washington D.C. WHOO HOO. AH wath jest all over kummy...and Bear got to sit 'tween them. I'm still checking my wallet. Came from Chicago, Detroit, Grand Rapids, jest everywhar.
I got to give a speech. HIGHLIGHT OF THE ENTIRE SHEBANG. I got a STAN...SITT...
okay. They noticed and applauded politely.
Then the big wiggies all tawked, but not NEAR as intersting as Bear.
Then they laid dirt from Henry's home forest in Vermont which had been shipped in.
LITTLE LATE TO BE COVERING HIM WITH DIRT, doncha think? He died in 1885. Geez.
Laid wreaths. (Better late than never dept). Then there was a firing line. I was tawking with one of the BIG SNOTS, and didn't hear that little announcement. Suddenly, a whole bunch of guns started going off.
I DOVE FOR THE CAVE. (Thoo embarrassing. Big cemetary, and NO CAVE. I am still trying to get the dirt out of mah reddened cheekies).
Then MOOSIC. Brought in speshul. (Recording artiste friend of mine, with accompaniment. WHOO HOO).
Finally, after a whole bunch of mucky-muck, the closing prayer. By now I needed one.
THEN, the photo-ops. Bear ran and hid. BUT, one of the BIG SNOTS found me and...
I shall forever more be ensconced in his office. Big WHOOP! Embarrassing.
I held up my bookie (in front of mah fathe). I held up a GAWJUS wooden box that Henry hand-carved while stationed at Fort Morgan during the battle of Mobile Bay...and gave a short recitation about it. (All kidding aside, it IS beautiful. It sits on a large 3-drawer chest that sits in mah foyer...next to a deacon's bench that originally sat in the home of Josiah Bartlett (in the 1700's). He was the first signer of the Declaration of Independence. Another big whoop.
A good time was had by all, from what I remember. I had gone to it on less than 2 hours sleep, cause of editing. Came right home and back at it again.
WHOO HOO!
The fourth of july went by with me chained to the computer.
So that is my life. Write, Edit, proofread.
HEY! Just when does the counting $$$ start.
What?
Smart ath.
Db
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