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On the side of a hill in the deep forest green, tracing a sparrow on snow-crested ground,
blankets and bedclothes the child of the mountain sleeps unaware of the clarion call.
On the side of a hill, a sprinkling of leaves washes the grave with silvery tears,
a soldier cleans and polishes a gun.
War bellows, blazing in scarlet battalions, generals order their soldiers to kill
and to fight for a cause they've long ago forgotten

Tuesday, June 26, 2007

Staying Alive

Read novel excerpt and longish short-story for writers group, also spent this Saturday at a local park (Lake Farm Park) walking around and visiting with friends. On Sunday I didn't get back from the writers group until very late. Stayed up late to finish Tobias Buckell's Ragamuffin last night (and last Thursday and Friday). Looking at critiquing the finish of the novel we're partway through and a new novel for the writers group. Another friends has his first novel he's asked for feeback on. And I didn't get the lawn mowed.

Monday morning saw the big move at work. I'm not facing into the corner, but my back is still to the open room. A confluence of electrical outlets and the number of computers on my desk conspired to push me out of that position.

Last night our air conditioning wasn't working well and I didn't get to checking the outside unit. Called my woodworking guru to see where we were on having him install the bookshelf units in the lower-level (not really a basement, and here we are talking abotu a major install with a few complications that were driving me batty). He should have been available now, but was in a car accident (everybody is fine) and wracked his back. So he's a few weeks behind. On a side note he loves his Macintosh (talked him into getting it). He spent an hour of my phone time (long distance) telling me how much he loved it.

So, I'm back to draggin' my rear around, trying to keep my eyes open. Hope you all's (a Western PA colloquialism) summer is going well.

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