Paksworld

No sign of my personal copy of the new book.  Not here at the house, not in the green tote (I keep checking, as if it might magically appear from another dimension),  not at the friend’s house where I thought I might’ve left it.  It’s gone.   That backs up the time of disappearance to Wednesday.  Where was I on Wednesday?   At the recording studio, then at the friend’s house where it isn’t, then at church for choir practice.  The green tote was with me in all those places, but choir is the likeliest place to have left it.  Called the church (not going to drive another 100 miles into the city and back out today just in case…having driven back from College Station in the morning)  and it hadn’t been turned in to reception.

And we’re still days from release day (not long–only Sunday and Monday to go, but still…frustration.   Worse, since I don’t have my copy…and no, having a few authors’ copies of the UK edition is not the same thing.  The print size is different, for instance.    And in the aftermath of the trip, my sinuses are giving me fits and I have a serious snarl for the stupid meth addicts who started using Sudafed to make their drug-of-choice and thus deprived those of us who need it for sinus problems of a decongestant that works, in amounts sufficient to get through an El Niño winter in Texas.

All that being said, however, it’s been a gorgeous day, and I made it out to the land, even down to the creek woods,  and some of the Mexican plums are blooming, and some of the redbuds are blooming, and there were pink and blue, as well as white, anemones in the grass.   And the peach and apricot and pear trees were also blooming.   I had the rubber boots in a backpack, thinking I might cross the creek, but ran out of energy ( early sign of sinus trouble I ignored, like a fool.)   We saw a red-tailed hawk of the pale type (look almost white beneath, with a rust-orange tail.)    We were also inspected by seven turkey vultures.  One saw us, wheeled away, and soon there were seven, dropping down to see why we were crouched close to the ground.  They always check us out, and we always look up and say “Not dead yet!”

The drive back from College Station included bluebirds and over 100 sandhill cranes (I know, I already said that, but it bears repeating.  Flights over us here at home are usually about 50, or too high to see.)    Then in late afternoon, I heard an owl calling from the trees along the secondary drainage.