We've been hit with a lot of ice and snow the last three weeks; not quite as badly as the recent snowstorm that dumped a foot of snow on Portland, but there's still icy spots and bits of icy slush hiding in the northern, shadowy sides of curbs and houses. The wintry mix has extended the Christmas holiday by five days; even the University delayed classes a day because airports were closed. We were lucky in that neither our power nor our internet went out.
I went outside and caught snowflakes on a cold glass butter dish so I could photograph them. The results were mixed.
I went outside and caught snowflakes on a cold glass butter dish so I could photograph them. The results were mixed.
The down side is that none of my regular routines has been regular, so I need to get back into the swing of hitting the gym and writing.
Smokey hurt his leg the last day of the year; so I got to spend two hours sitting in the emergency vet clinic off of I-105 in
Springfield. That place is always a veil of tears because the humans are A) bringing a pet in because their regular vet is closed, B) reeling from the sticker-shock, C) not able to pay a $300 emergency vet bill and denying the claim, or D) dealing with a dying pet. Some folks handle it better than others. I h
ad a nice chat with one woman and quietly observed the staff and customers.
Smokey's leg required antibiotics, and let me tell you, Cicero the four-pound kitten was much easier to give antibiotics to than Smokey the seventeen-pound cat (who required two adult men, a towel, and various wrestling holds).
Springfield. That place is always a veil of tears because the humans are A) bringing a pet in because their regular vet is closed, B) reeling from the sticker-shock, C) not able to pay a $300 emergency vet bill and denying the claim, or D) dealing with a dying pet. Some folks handle it better than others. I h
ad a nice chat with one woman and quietly observed the staff and customers.
Smokey's leg required antibiotics, and let me tell you, Cicero the four-pound kitten was much easier to give antibiotics to than Smokey the seventeen-pound cat (who required two adult men, a towel, and various wrestling holds).
The cats seem to have reached an accord of sorts. I think Smokey's decided that Cicero is now a cat instead of a kitten: the other day Smokey chased Cicero from the deck and into the house, and yesterday I saw Smokey determinedly washing Cicero. This is not to say that Cicero has stopped stalking and pouncing on Smokey.
On the writing front, I've managed to get three short-ish piece critiqued at the Wordos table. I've also managed to get three rejections from various markets since I've last blogged. One was a real long-shot list-story piece ... so. More writing and more submitting.
On the writing front, I've managed to get three short-ish piece critiqued at the Wordos table. I've also managed to get three rejections from various markets since I've last blogged. One was a real long-shot list-story piece ... so. More writing and more submitting.
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