This is going to be one of those entries where I say there's nothing going on, and nothing to report, and then proceed to give details about the nothing. So, you know. You've been warned.

I'm waiting to hear about some publishing stuff. (Much of the writing business involves waiting to hear stuff.) Initial murmurs are promising, but these things can always turn, like a dog, and bite you. I try not to have great expectations, because then I can only be pleasantly surprised. Heather, however, prefers optimism, because hope gives her joy, so she's been thinking about potential happy outcomes. We make an odd couple in that respect, I suppose, but I actually find us to be rather complementary.

It's been a quiet few days, rainy, windy, etc. Our evenings are spent drinking wine, reading, watching TV. I'm thinking a lot about neighbors, and passive-aggressive housemate warfare, and other such things, for my spelling bee story, which is beginning to coalesce.

This weekend, we're planning to go down to Santa Cruz. Maybe we'll have something to celebrate. Maybe we'll need the vacation to cheer us up because something didn't work out. Maybe we'll need it as a distraction from our continuing waiting-state. No matter what, there will be a good reason to go! As if we need a reason, other than to see some of our dearest friends, and drink wine, and play cards, and just generally have a little vacation-in-miniature. I'm looking forward to it.