Dealing With Dragons (Weather, That Is)
Thank you to all my lovely sponsors for the Clarion Write-a-Thon. You rock, and I am trying to make you proud.
Today we had challenges. The Wonder Shoer came to trim and shoe horses, which ate the morning. The very, very hot morning. Did I mention it was morning? And hot? 101F by 9 a.m. That kind of hot.
By afternoon it hit 110. In Tucson, it got to 112. Hottest day in 16 years, they say, which means even Pooka was...impressed. He wasn't even born then. He, and the rest of the crew, were extremely glad to get hosed off every couple of hours.
The coolers in the house were not working as well as they should, even allowing for combat conditions. Finally my brain cells stopped sizzling long enough to realize that one end of the house was a lot cooler than the other, and that I could hole up in the guest room under the vent with dog and assorted cats and, finally, squeeze out a few words. 534 of them, to be exact. On the meter, they look like this:
24939 / 100000
(24.94%)
On the page, some of them look like this:
"In most circumstances Louisa knew better than to entrust the Cause's secrets to paper, but today she needed a map. She drew it as she used to draw the woods and tracks of Fairy-Land, but these were paths of plots and deadly conspiracies."
In addition, there was Horseblog, which turns out to have been a smashing success. Who knew my keed stories would go viral? Now people want him to have his own blog. Sure he can, if he can buy himself a computer with four-inch keys.
So I played with that, too, in between turning off the internets and drawing word-maps of nefarious plots. And that was day 2 of the Write-a-Thon. It was, all in all, an interesting day.
Today we had challenges. The Wonder Shoer came to trim and shoe horses, which ate the morning. The very, very hot morning. Did I mention it was morning? And hot? 101F by 9 a.m. That kind of hot.
By afternoon it hit 110. In Tucson, it got to 112. Hottest day in 16 years, they say, which means even Pooka was...impressed. He wasn't even born then. He, and the rest of the crew, were extremely glad to get hosed off every couple of hours.
The coolers in the house were not working as well as they should, even allowing for combat conditions. Finally my brain cells stopped sizzling long enough to realize that one end of the house was a lot cooler than the other, and that I could hole up in the guest room under the vent with dog and assorted cats and, finally, squeeze out a few words. 534 of them, to be exact. On the meter, they look like this:
24939 / 100000(24.94%)
On the page, some of them look like this:
"In most circumstances Louisa knew better than to entrust the Cause's secrets to paper, but today she needed a map. She drew it as she used to draw the woods and tracks of Fairy-Land, but these were paths of plots and deadly conspiracies."
In addition, there was Horseblog, which turns out to have been a smashing success. Who knew my keed stories would go viral? Now people want him to have his own blog. Sure he can, if he can buy himself a computer with four-inch keys.
So I played with that, too, in between turning off the internets and drawing word-maps of nefarious plots. And that was day 2 of the Write-a-Thon. It was, all in all, an interesting day.
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