Buckles and belts

If you're a writer, you should check out Nathan Bransford's "The 3rd Sort-of-Annual Stupendously Ultimate First Paragraph Challenge" It's good stuff, some hilarious, some so bad you know it has to be bad on purpose, and all of it a guaranteed good time if you like this sort of challenge. Yeah, my WIP is in there, but good luck finding it in what looks like it will soon be several thousand entries. I guessed 5000 when it opened, and a friend thinks it's going to come closer to 6000/ Both of us are hoping someone bought Nathan a big bottle of bourbon to help him get through it. I'll toast him with my 1792 while I sit here all happy that I'm not the one having to read them all.

I've buckled down the past two weeks to get some serious writing done. "Serious" meaning I have a goal when I get up in the morning, and if I don't make it to goal I don't go to bed. Tough love can be the best love.

I've also had to dig deep into the boxes under my bed and pull out some old belts. My waist is shrinking faster that my hips, leaving me with about 4 extra inches of fabric in my shorts. So, it's belt time. Luckily we're maybe finally possibly going to get cool weather so I can break out the jeans for good. My jeans tend to be much more forgiving of this kind of size mismatch.

So those squirrels that had moved into my attic last summer? They came back for a visit. They're very creative, and seem to get a real kick out of finding new ways into the house. It got over 100 in the attic Sunday, which drove them back outside for the day, and while they were away I shut their latest door and put on new locks. Fingers crossed they don't find a new way in, because if it really does cool down I'll have to call the animal trappers to get them all out.

Happy squirrels are squirrels who aren't getting trapped in my attic.