Chicks and bunnies.
I wouldn’t say I live my life with my head in the sand, but I can say that I’ve been there before. Because I have an overly developed sense of empathy, it is impossible for me to hear the world’s bad news or see disturbing images and not absorb them. So I don’t watch TV, rarely listen to the news, and generally rely on osmosis and a good filtering process to stay current. Sometimes when my family brings up some dystopian movie or book, I often respond with “Chicks and bunnies! Chicks and bunnies!” it’s my way of putting something positive back into the world, while at the same time building in self-preservation and protection. Sometimes you wouldn’t know I was 52.
Yesterday I went to my 35th high school reunion. I didn’t stay long, just a few hours to touch base with some people who really meant a lot to me at a certain time in my life. Some classmates knew I was an author; most didn’t. We really didn’t get into the details of our lives, just acknowledged how we had all aged, and ate some good food. I seemed to be the only woman with silver hair. I was easy to spot.
Today and tomorrow I’m dedicating free time to finishing more edits on Raising Evangeline. It’s time to send it back again. No word about Vinehart Farm. Will I wait another five months?
All for this round,