I do not know where January went

but it pretty definitely did go...somewhere. I was away for a couple of days, being birthdayed, which included a very nice lunch at the Desert Museum. The hummingbirds were nesting in their aviary (and there were wild ones humming around outside). Best moment was when we were standing in the path and a very tiny, very indignant green mama bird buzz-bombed me at hip height. I looked up and she had a nest right above my head. Oops, I said, and got out of the way. She perched on a branch at chest height, visibly pleased with herself. Got rid of that intruder, by gummy. Or hummy.

I've never seen the hummers quite this interactive. A beautiful little male with an iridescent purple frill let us spend quite a bit of time watching his feathers shimmer.

Pooka has injured himself Yet Again. This time it was purely my fault. I was in Writer Brainspace, autopiloting through morning chores, and did not fasten a crucial gate. Came out of the shower to find the horse in Pooka's usual snooze spot at that time of the morning to be several inches taller, with a mane on the wrong side. Ephiny. And masses of big white butts all over his daytime stalls and paddock. No Pooka.

I beat feet out there and found him behind Pandora, in the middle of a pile of downed fence panels, with his forefoot caught in between two of them. She was keeping the others away and making sure he didn't freak out. Which was a good thing because it was not a good position for him to be in.

I extricated him. I got the horses out. I determined that there was no serious or permanent damage (and he hadn't got at the mares after bringing down the panels in his attempt to get at the very much in heat Pandora--who at 25 is well past anything coming of it, though believe me if anything could, we would be thrilled), and it was the diagonal leg to the one he caught in the fence (Not through my fault) in October and reinjured (on stall rest, no less) ten days later. Did not need vet. Did need to be wrapped for a couple of days, and he's still in Pooka Jail at night, aka the stallion stall, though he's notably quieter if I let him have his daytime turnout (with gates carefully and scrupulously secured).

Oy. Writer brain and horsecare brain do not work well together. It's also not good for rider brain or trainer brain. I'm trying to get them sorted out, and really trying not to get absentminded. Oy.

Some of what I've been doing has been, with the help of idiomagic and her lovely partner, getting the Hound&Falcon books scanned and ready to e-publish through Book View Cafe. Pub dates are May 1st, June 5th, and July 3rd. They'll get kindlenooked after they've been BVC'ed for a couple of weeks. Also, working on short stuff, and casting a very hairy eyeball at a YA novel that BVC will publish when it's been revised to its editor's strict specifications. Perfect BVC project: too far off the wall for the big guys (it got to "editor loves it, marketing couldn't make sense of it at all" a number of times before the agents and I agreed it would be better off with our very experimental and well-respected co-op), but we all still want to see it out and about and finding readers. Some things about the new publishing landscape are rough--I really really miss getting paid before I write the book--but the ability to cut loose and do what I really want to do, versus what I'm told to do in hopes that it will sell in an increasingly constricted and difficult market, is a very nice thing.

We've also been finding out what all the rocks around here are. Need more examination, but my friend the archaeologist thinks, based on the evidence, that they're Cienega Period--preceramic, 2-3000 years. Hear me squee. Lately I've been getting lots of arrowheads in various stages of completion. Lots. Also, learning (slowly) to recognize the signs of proto-agriculture, which miraculously did not get bladed or built over when the property was developed. I want to learn more. More more more. MOAR!

And then, you know, write stories. Because that's what I do. When I'm not leaving gates open and getting in trouble with fat white ponies.