How my day went

Today the sky was as blue as the feathers of an exotic bird. The rain and wind that swept through the last few days took all the haze and soupy ions from the air and whisked them to Georgia (sorry guys).

We had a frosty carpet on the dead grass, but the air smelled as fresh as clean linens. All the things we've planted over the past few weeks are chompin' at the bit, to use a well-worn colloquialism. 

Our morning walk felt almost as if we were in the mountains except with thicker air. 

I worked on my fish story all morning and by lunch I was at the edit/rewrite stage. I fretted over the first sentence. I thought it was good, but it was a DIFFERENT kind of lead than most stories that appear in the paper. I thought to myself, "Hey, you can't fly on one wing."

I called the editor, who was vacationing in the mountains of Tennessee, on his cell. I read him the opening sentence on a line that crackled with distance and poor reception. "That sou(crackle, crackle, crackle,...... goo(crackle) to me.

I gave it a once over and fired it off to the guy at the paper who was filling in for the boss. I told him the editor was OK with the story. I've fretted all evening wondering if the editor really said  what I thought he said through the distance and shoddy service. or if he said, "That's a piece of caca, go do it over and send it to me."

The story is winding its way through the sprockets, gears and rollers of the mammoth newspaper printer even as I type these words. So tomorrow morning I may be looking for a new job. 

On another note, Jilda and I are playing again Friday night and a high-class tea room in Huntsville. I've practiced until my fingers are bleeding so we're as ready as we're going to be.
I hope you all have a remarkable Wednesday.