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Sunday roadkill report
Aug. 27th, 2006 12:57 pmOne great blue heron in the ditch, out by the cemetery. Also a yearling raccoon and an adult 'coon, about ten miles apart. The heron pisses me off -- I knew that bird. And hitting one with a car isn't easy. They do tend to fly low on takeoff and landing, though.
Other roadkill -- got my first rejection on SIGNATURES in yesterday's mail. St. Martin's Press thinks I'm a solid writer, but the story isn't inventive enough. Too much like Jim Butcher. Is there an echo in here? Depression engulfs the author, who is starting to question his self-worth. And more particularly, the worth of a sequel...
Not-roadkill on the morning ride: another heron up by the dam below the Indian reservation, and a doe and two half-grown fading-spots fawns waiting to cross the road.
I took a shorter ride than usual for Sunday, upriver and then down the other side, counting a few hours on my feet Friday evening and again Saturday as exercise. I would _like_ to head down to the music festival for the final afternoon, but think I'll just listen to performances on the radio. Can't party all weekend, at my age. But I would have enjoyed watching the taiko drummers again. Kata for drums, drumming as martial art. My years in the Kempo dojo showed me things I suspect much of the audience missed.
27.04 miles, 2:01:30
Other roadkill -- got my first rejection on SIGNATURES in yesterday's mail. St. Martin's Press thinks I'm a solid writer, but the story isn't inventive enough. Too much like Jim Butcher. Is there an echo in here? Depression engulfs the author, who is starting to question his self-worth. And more particularly, the worth of a sequel...
Not-roadkill on the morning ride: another heron up by the dam below the Indian reservation, and a doe and two half-grown fading-spots fawns waiting to cross the road.
I took a shorter ride than usual for Sunday, upriver and then down the other side, counting a few hours on my feet Friday evening and again Saturday as exercise. I would _like_ to head down to the music festival for the final afternoon, but think I'll just listen to performances on the radio. Can't party all weekend, at my age. But I would have enjoyed watching the taiko drummers again. Kata for drums, drumming as martial art. My years in the Kempo dojo showed me things I suspect much of the audience missed.
27.04 miles, 2:01:30
