They're Back

They're back.  The tiny, four-footed slugs that steel your heart as they steal your plants.  Friday afternoon I peered out my back door into a yard spattered with forget-me-nots, primroses, columbine and hostas.  Rain poured down, making small wading pools in the gravel, rinsing off my "deer away".  If the plants Survived. One. More. Night. the yard would look perfect - NO - more than perfect for our dinner party on Saturday.
As I said, they're back.

Perhaps "Done" is Over Rated

Perhaps announcing that I was done with Ashes and Bones was premature.  Perhaps the call of revising another project, The Shape Shifter, was too big a draw.  Perhaps.  Perhaps.  Perhaps. 
For Ashes and Bones has called me back to the story board and I am chopping sentences, revising scenes, speeding toward my own deadline of -- What?  June?  June what? And once the allusive date is met?  THEN will the fledgling manuscript finally be allowed to leave its hard-wired computer nest and spread its wings to paper?  Will I, the over-protective wordsmith, at last stop dissecting paragraphs and peering at each and every word under the thesaurus-microscope and hand the pages, wrapped in a protective cocoon of craft paper, to Cate and Deanna and whisper, "My baby is yours now.  Be kind."?