martinimade

In the computer age, sending a book to your editor has less finality to it. Yesterday, at 4:30ish, I hit "send" on an email. I would have taken a picture of the event but, really, it looked like you'd imagine. I gave a small whoop, then went back to keeping my children from killing each other. Like one does.

Is the book done? Nope, not by a long shot. This part of the process is done, however. It was time for someone else to look at it for a while. It'll be back. More work will be done. It will, I hope, get better.

More details as they are warranted.

Now I need to figure out what happened to my relatively tidy house while my brain was away. There are fur tumbleweeds and Diva droppings -- seriously, is it that hard to pick up your socks? -- littering most of the flat surfaces. Must clean.

I now realize how my brain can get so focused on one thing for a few weeks that everything else in my life took a distant second place. This morning in the shower it started to catch up with me, so much so that I found myself really ticked off with something the sellers of the house we are buying* did on Friday. It's amazing how much irritation one can build up in 72 hours.

Anyhoo, to the cleaning. And the paper grading.

On the weather watch front - it seems that we've escaped the most recent snowmaggedon that is blanketing the northeast. It's snowing here, yes, but not in stunning amounts. The usually twitchy school superintendent didn't even threaten to cancel today. We shall see how the afternoon goes.

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* or, at least, their lawyer.