Frankie did her pee pee dance about six o'clock this morning, so I rushed her outside. I fed her and Otto, then headed for the writing cabin.
The place is quiet and has been for some time. Doubt the raven isn't very good company, and I always feel like he's judging me about something. I fed Lisa's rabbit and flitted between projects.
I managed to assemble the next Lisa Burton Radio post, and contacted the author for the week after that. I did a lap through social media and email before putting my editing jacket on.
I managed four chapters, and it's amazing what you'll find when you put a project aside for a month or two. I never really put The Yak Guy aside for that long, but these are early chapters and I probably haven't looked at them for six months. I found a couple of sentences that didn't make a lick of sense, but they do now. I also found a word that was too modern for the setting. It was waterbag, which is what we used to carry on the survey trucks when I was a young man. I used the term waterskin throughout the book, and it's easy to see how I got it in there. It had to go, and I fixed it. Doubt glared at me as if I still didn't have it right.
I spent some time also reading four chapters of a book. My spare time is scarce, and it's either reading or something writing related. Today I decided to split my time between the two. That was until a rumble sounded across the forest and meadow.
I ran to the front porch and stared into the woods. Something distinctly red flashed between the trees.
Lisa Burton roared down the gravel road on her new/old motorcycle. She slid to a stop on the elevator at the end of the runway, then lowered everything into the basement.
I ran back inside to meet her at the top of the stairs when she came up. “It's good to have you home.”
“What's going on out here?”
“Just tending the animals and doing a bit of editing.”
“I can see that. How did you ever get that thing on anyway?”
“I don't know, just part of the magic at the writing cabin.”
“Did you manage to write something while I was away?”
“Not so much. I scratched out a Macabre Macaroni piece, but I don't know if I'll keep it. Maybe I should start calling it the editing cabin. There hasn't been much writing going on this year.”
“I'm sure there will be. Lorelei the Muse won't let you stagnate.”
“I'm sure. Looks like you bought yourself a new toy.”
“Oh yeah, isn't it pretty. I won enough money on the cruise ship to pay for it, and still have money left over. Wanna go for a ride?”
“Um, maybe later.”
“Okay, I'm going to unpack and visit my poor lonely Bunny.”
“Glad to have you back. I think your posters came out great this time.”
“They were nice, weren't they? I like my umpire one best. I looked serious and fierce in it.”
“You had a no nonsense look on your face, that's for sure. Um, Lisa?”
“Turns out getting into my editing jacket is easier than getting out of it. Do you mind?”
“No problem, turn around and I'll untie your sleeves.”