Finally, at long last, the temps are only in the low 90's and mid 90's. I can finally take my plants out into the patio area instead of having to keep them under the covered porch area. The sun withered the tiny new leaves and withered them so that I had to keep them in the shade as much as possibler. It is so much better now that they are able to get some sunlight without roasting to death.
I found a new toy thanks to facebook called the Pharaoh's slots. It is a fun game and very challenging as it goes from one level to another...I find that the higher levels are much more likely to go dry faster than the early levels and I did stay with it to reach level three. It made me think that writing a novel is a lot like this business of attaining levels after so many steps. One book will lead to another if a book is based upon word count alone. I am wondering about all of that since I am in the mental process of rewriting my novel now.
My friend from Sweden sent me her latest chapters in her writing efforts on Alexander and Hephaestion. She is writing about Gaugemela and has made up a few characters who are along for the ride. I just read the latest chapters last night and have yet to tell her anything about them. I notice that her writing style is changing quite a bit now.
I have decided against too early writing my revision yet. I keep contemplating it in my mind as I have the idea that I must fill it with enough real conflicts and resolutions to make it a compelling read. That is always difficult to do with using history in which everyone knows the outcome already, but in this case it is more for the character study and development that I wish to show why it is that these men behave as they do as time progresses. It is an interesting problem to resolve before I put it on paper. The reason I don't want to begin writing it is twofold: one, I don't want anyone knowing about it, and I don't want anyone picking my mind either. As my Aunt Doris once said even if I had a lock on it, they would pick the lock. It is my creation and I want to keep it as secret as possible so that I don't have a lot to do when shopping it around.
I am also thinking aloud to myself as I drive around now. I am at the age when age really does tell on me. I had no idea what it would be like to be 3/4's of a century old but now that I am finally into becoming that old, I wonder at why it is that each and everyone is afraid to tell others about it. Maybe it is because those who I know who reached that age were pretty frail. I am anything but frail and a girl at the mall told me that I am in my 60's due to the way that I walk. Ha! Flattery! I think that each and everyone is different at each age. There are children already who are diseased and sickly while there are people like myself who are relatively healthy and sturdy for the time spent in the past years on this old earth.
I am admitting to becoming more and more disillusioned with life on the planet whenever I read another story of child abuse, animal cruelty, or neglect, and mass murders. I wonder what on earth is wrong with people who have nothing better to do than to be cruel, mean, and nasty.
It truly makes me angry that people do not know how to spend their time but to subject animals to cruel and unusual tricks and punishments. Mostly teenagers and retarded men do such things, and it makes me furious to learn of it. I am ready to take my laser gun and eliminate all the mean and intolerant members of the human race right off the planet...if I could I would do it in a second...they do not deserve to breathe the air around them.
I have to get this out of my system. A small baby was killed last night due to a dog fight between pit bulls. The baby sitter for some strange reason had to have her dogs with her and when they got into a fight, the baby got into the middle of it and died at the hospital. I do not know all the details but the baby sitter got cut up pretty badly too by trying to stop the fight. What a story! The police don't know yet whether to press charges or not last I heard on the news. More will come as time passes. The parents were boht out of town but mom returned from a trip to Flagstaff when learning of the tragedy.
And they wonder why I keep my cat on a harness with all the dogs in this place and nearby. I do it for his safety. I call him my prisoner of love.
Well, must get on with today's chores and errands. Will post anyway...and share too.
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