On any given day I have a number of cardinals, nuthatches, sparrows, chickadees, woodpeckers, robins, dove, and bluejays visiting the garden pond and the feeder. This morning, however, we had a special visitor. I saw him at the garden pond.

He’s a scarlet tanager and isn’t he lovely? His visit made my day.

It is my fervant hope that there is a special section of Hell — the part where the flames are hottest and the bad things are at their ultimate worst — reserved for really-bad-content spammers (I am being very careful not to use any words that will flag this site for the really-bad-content and then I’ll truly be overwhelmed with it). 117 pieces of that…stuff… hitting my blog in less 24 hours. The day before that it was well over 200.:cursing:

Thank goodness there’s a very efficient program that catches most of these, otherwise I’d just have to pull the whole thing down, but there’s invariably a couple that somehow slip through that I have to manually delete.

What kind of worthless, piece-of-crap, human slug develops the makes-me-queasy/indignant/blush-just-to-read-the-subject-line posts and programs it to bombard people? I know computers and programs handle it but somewhere back down the line is a poor excuse of a person behind it all. I wish very, very bad things for them.:evil:

As for everyone else, enjoy your day.:wave:

I made one of my favorite dishes last night for dinner. Homemade split pea soup. Split peas, fresh carrots, garlic, celery, onion, sea salt, a bit of dried oregano and some ham chunks. It was delicious and the whole fam likes it. Unfortunately I think it wins hands down as the visually unappealing dish. Looks just like baby poo. :doh: I simply try not to look in my bowl when I’m eating. 8O

Hey, have a nice weekend.:lol:

I ran across this yesterday. The following is from a 1920’s lecture presented by Yevgeny Zamyatin at the House of the Arts in Petrograd:

The development of art is subjective to the dialectic method. Art functions pyramidally: all new achievements are based on the utilization of everything that has been accumulated below, at the foundations of the pyramid. Revolutions do not occur here; this field, more than any other, is governed by evolution. And we must know what has been done before us in the field of verbal art. This does not mean that you must follow in trodden paths: you must contribute something of your own. A work of art is of value only when it is original both in content and in form. But in order to leap upward, it is necessary to take off from the ground. It is essential that there be a ground.

Her name is Sonata. One little pill. No waking up at 3 a.m. and not going back to sleep. I wake up at 3, look at the clock, roll over and back to snoozeland. It’s lovely. Two 8-hour night of sleep in a row and I damn near didn’t recognize myself in the bathroom mirror. Sleep is an amazing, wonderful thing.:zzz:

My horoscope: Today is a day for an emotional breakthrough, but you must apply both your logic and your intuition. Staying only in your head will not work.

Whew! The book needs it and I need it — I’ll be glad to transfer it from my head to the computer. Actually, I figured a couple of things out yesterday…I think…but as of right now, they’re still in my head. Hope nothing gets lost in translation. Don’t laugh, it’s happened. I think I’ve got it all set and then it just comes out a tangled mess.

Guess I’d better get busy.:dog:

I’m late, I’m late, I’m late!! THIS is what happens when I decide to have an extra half-hour in the bed — I don’t manage a post until mid-morning, not that I’ve not been busy but my whole schedule is thrown off.:doh: And then, it’s just a slack post about how late and lazy I am. Tomorrow is another day…. :mrgreen:

Long before I knew anything else about her, I knew Vicki Lewis Thompson was a DFW (Damn Fine Writer). She’s always been one of my faves and is an autobuy.

I sold my first book to Harlequin in 1999. Chicago that year was my first trip to National conference. My editor explained to me ahead of time that she’d be taking a group of her writers to dinner one night and I’d be part of that group. Then she ran through the list of other writer attendees. She said Vicki Lewis Thompson and I almost went through the floor. OMG. I was not only going to meet VLT, but I was going to dinner with her.:bowdown: Well, her and about 10 other people….

National always starts out with a HUGE literacy autographing. My book wasn’t out yet and I just got to cruise the aisles. There she was, VLT — a trim, petitite woman with a mega-watt smile. I went up to buy a book and I have to confess, I just lost it. I was a babbling, gushing fool. “Hi. I can’t believe I’m really meeting you. I just think you’re the best writer. I love all your books and I can’t believe I’m meeting you.” She graciously smiled and signed my book. I babbled on, “And I really can’t believe that I get to go to dinner with you tonight!” Yes, people, I actually gushed/babbled that and Vicki didn’t blink an eye, she simply smiled and said, “Well, I’m looking forward to that.” Considering she didn’t dive beneath the table to escape the idiot in front of her, I knew in that moment that she was also a DFP (Damn Fine Person) in addition to being a DFW.:bowdown::bowdown:

In the ensuing years Vicki has turned out to be a whole list of Damn Fines. :happy2: A talented New York Times Best Seller, a clever fellow BentQuillPosse member, and one of the finest people I know. She’s hanging out today at the Writing Playground. Click over and grab a swing and check her out. :wave:You won’t be disappointed.