About morals, I know only that what is moral is what you feel good after and what is immoral is what you feel bad after. (Ernest Hemingway)

It’s a beautiful, cool, unhumid (I know, that ain’t even a word, but humor me) day outside and I’m holed up working on the writing. I slacked yesterday, mowed the two yards instead (I think we might just lease our lawn to square bale, joke). So today it’s back to the computer and hanging out by myself with my pretend friends. (That still sounds nuts, too bad it’s true.)

I’m trying to get short stories, poems, and the like together to start pitching to magazines. It takes awhile, as most writers know, to wade through the guidelines and magazine profiles, then read the magazine, make sure that your writing is up their alley, etc. And all the while try to keep up with the latest writing projects, cussing out the characters as badly as they cuss you when you have to turn your attention to business concerns instead of theirs.

Or maybe that’s just me. :-)

We haven’t got our mower conditioner fixed yet, but the neighbor offered to take down the remaining hay we had standing and square bale it. We needed some squares for calving this September and what not, so we let him take what he needed and give us a cut when we figure out how many bales will come out of the field. At least it gives us more time to get the mower fixed before second cutting. Dad’s been crazy-busy down at his latest job. He and the homeowner seem to want to finish things up as fast as they can, so hay is coming in second priority lately. Just wish I had more machinery savvy so I could fix this shit myself.

I’m into the fine tuning with Taylor. I’m going to go back today and add some things to what we’ve already covered, fine details and stuff. I think another few sessions and we’ll have the read-through done. Really looking forward to that. I love the work, but honestly I’m ready for some space without the red book in it.