The Short of It

It was either blog or edit my short story entry.  I had to follow the urging to finish my project.  It needs to be submitted and thus relieve me of the stress involved in my desire to complete the unfinished.  I don't do well with piles of stacked 'to-do's' whether they exist in my head or in the living room.

This afternoon found me feeling a bit under the weather.  Low on energy.  Eyes hurting.  Chilled.  My son insisted I not take that second part of my daily walk in the overcast 29-degree weather.  Instead, he encouraged me to rest on the couch.  After a bit of intense battling with guilt -- always worried I might be creating excuses to become lazy or apathetic in life (I'm rolling my eyes at myself here) -- I settled under the leaf blanket, plopped the rice-filled microwave heating pad my mom gave me on my strangely aching shoulders, and proceeded to read the second half of Kathryn Stockett's novel, "The Help."  All I can say is you should do the same.  If ever I could write just one novel, I'd be happy with a book akin to this for the rest of my days.  There's my literary recommendation for the week.  Besides reading my blog, of course.

In the news this morning, there were several scraps of information which grabbed my attention.  I even fleshed out a few sentences on each one for today's blog entry.  However, in that general affliction of short-term memory that is now mine, I could not recall a single item an hour later.  No, of course I didn't take the time to write them down.  I was balancing the checkbook and a few other chores.  I thought for sure I could retain two or three ideas through the time it took to make the snowbound kids (again, but much less of the cold white stuff) homemade waffles!  Whatever . . .

But the short story is good.  Maybe I'll be able to share it at some point.  It must be sent in before March 1st.  One of the rules regards publication.  Does anyone know if posting an original short story on my blog site would be considered publication?  It's all rather vague to me.  Not my area of expertise.  Then again, do I even HAVE an area of expertise?

I leave you with several lovely images of the female cardinal which visits my feeder daily, puffed up in her winter finery, as interpreted through the lens of my new camera.  I find her to be at least as beautiful as her beau.

There was nothing I could do about the branches.

  

She seems to be watching me right back.

The detail in her tail feathers bowls me over!