I rearranged my office this weekend to take advantage of a new view that is opening up, and if I’m cleaning, it’s not because I’m nervous that THE DRAFTER comes out tomorrow, but because I just moved something off my desk and I’m trying to cleans my mind for a new project. THE OPERATOR, Peri Reed #2, is back at the publishers for copy edit, so we’re right on track for a November 22 release. I would like to just jump right into the rough draft of number three, but I have to finish up THE TURN, which comes out in 2017 sometime. Either way, the screens are on my windows and it’s like working outside all day under a canopy.
But my new yard space . . . I was finally able to get back into it this weekend, and though it still needs gobs of work, it’s starting to take shape. I’m also starting to see why the “landscape” is so funky with dirt piled up against the shed and fence, rotting the wood, directing water into areas instead of out of them, because under every ill-placed hump and raised “flower bed” is a stump or fence post. And there are a lot of them. So it’s slow going as every surface item I’m addressing has underlaying issues to have to fix. As usual.
But I’m in no hurry.
I would like to get some grass seed down soon, though. Having to fix someone else’s past shortcuts is slowing me down. Tim, though, is helping with the heavy stuff, which is a great relief, both mentally and physically. It’s going to be gorgeous when I get done. The Michigan wild flower bed at least is defined and can now sit and perk while I see what comes up and needs to be moved out. I’ll start planting it this fall with divisions from my current Michigan bed.
You might remember me talking about Mr. Gimpy, the lame robin who has taken up residence in my yard. He’s a robust fellow, even if his wing does droop. He’s flying now, after a month, and fending off other robins. Well, except for one. (laugh) They have a nest now, at the corner of my garage. It’s already been found by the bluejays, who checked it out and left because there were no babies yet. They will be back, and there will be trouble. However, there is a cardinal nesting like ten feet away in the clematis, and surprisingly, they leave each other alone. There’s usually one of them around, which bodes well. Someone is going to be eaten, but someone else will make it. sigh. Maybe I should have put the box somewhere else. Frankly, I’m just tickled they are using it after three years of being up and empty. Perhaps now that they have identified it, I can bring it closer to the house where the bluejays might leave it alone entirely.
I’ll try to get a better picture of her on her nest. The light is really bad in the morning, bouncing around my office to make reflections everywhere.