ganking the pick-up
/
The long Easter weekend was a much needed break, right up until I came down with some sort of unfortunate flu (actually, I guess it was still a much needed break). Illness aside, it was a productive weekend with me getting lots of feedback about Lil Novey from the family and I managed to enter all of my "final" changes into the manuscript, finally putting me in the position to begin the query process.
A few days into that and I haven't heard anything back. Not sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing, but you can drive yourself crazy thinking of all the reasons it could be good or could be bad. I think I'll be safest to just distract myself and wait. I feel ready for anything, even crushing defeat (yeah, we'll see about that...). Seriously, my heart pounds uncontrollably every time I check my email.
Here's a fun spring story for ya:
Yesterday I was cutting across the back parking lot behind the office and had a little encounter with our resident Canada goose couple. Apparently these guys have been using the back lot as their spawning grounds for years. Having had my share of terrifying experiences being chased across campus by a Canada goose or two when I was at university (those geese were EVERYWHERE! I think one even sat beside me in first year psych. Damn those Canada geese and their mindgames!)
So I'm cutting across the lot and Mama Canada goose is all, "You'd better not come near me. I'm protecting my nest!" so I give her a wide berth, not wanting to find myself in a situation where I'm forced to run screaming from the parking lot when there are other people around (if there hadn't been other people around, the running/screaming probably would have happened the moment I spotted said geese). Anyway, my eyes dart around on the look out for Papa Canada goose, knowing he can't be far. I catch him a few meters away, getting completely medieval on this big black pick-up truck. That's right, the goose was fighting the pick-up truck because it was parked too close to the future birthing place of his young (at least, I assume said young haven't been born yet). It was a full-on beak to bumper brawl so intense, Papa Canada goose didn't even seem to notice I was there. I guess the moral of the story is, you're safe from nature as long as there is something nearby that is pissing it off more than you are. I solute you Papa Canada goose, for the lengths you'll go to keep your young safe from something that was not only far bigger than you, but also probably would have lured your daughters into the extended cab's backseat with empty promises of love and forever.
A few days into that and I haven't heard anything back. Not sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing, but you can drive yourself crazy thinking of all the reasons it could be good or could be bad. I think I'll be safest to just distract myself and wait. I feel ready for anything, even crushing defeat (yeah, we'll see about that...). Seriously, my heart pounds uncontrollably every time I check my email.
Here's a fun spring story for ya:
Yesterday I was cutting across the back parking lot behind the office and had a little encounter with our resident Canada goose couple. Apparently these guys have been using the back lot as their spawning grounds for years. Having had my share of terrifying experiences being chased across campus by a Canada goose or two when I was at university (those geese were EVERYWHERE! I think one even sat beside me in first year psych. Damn those Canada geese and their mindgames!)
So I'm cutting across the lot and Mama Canada goose is all, "You'd better not come near me. I'm protecting my nest!" so I give her a wide berth, not wanting to find myself in a situation where I'm forced to run screaming from the parking lot when there are other people around (if there hadn't been other people around, the running/screaming probably would have happened the moment I spotted said geese). Anyway, my eyes dart around on the look out for Papa Canada goose, knowing he can't be far. I catch him a few meters away, getting completely medieval on this big black pick-up truck. That's right, the goose was fighting the pick-up truck because it was parked too close to the future birthing place of his young (at least, I assume said young haven't been born yet). It was a full-on beak to bumper brawl so intense, Papa Canada goose didn't even seem to notice I was there. I guess the moral of the story is, you're safe from nature as long as there is something nearby that is pissing it off more than you are. I solute you Papa Canada goose, for the lengths you'll go to keep your young safe from something that was not only far bigger than you, but also probably would have lured your daughters into the extended cab's backseat with empty promises of love and forever.
