It is a good day. It is the sort of day that has restored my faith in humanity. People have been nice to me. I hit the two-third mark on Fairybreath illustrations, right on time. I finally got past the middle of Bread Wizard, and am now able to write the huge screaming Hollywood end, which will involve lots of fire and armies of dead horses and cookie-dough war-golems and all that sort of goodness. I bought a T-shirt with a paisley velociraptor on it. My contract is FINALLY ironed out, and will hopefully be here tomorrow for a signature, accompanied by a royalty check of semi-heroic proportions. (A WOMAN CAN DREAM, DAMNIT!)
There is no improving on such days.
Probably someone will cut me off in traffic tomorrow and all this goodness will be for naught, but it’s nice while it lasts.
In yard news, the vulture (Kevin insists on Ichabod, I insist on Vulture-Bob, we have compromised on Icha-Bob) came back yesterday. A gray fox went by the fence, completely unnoticed by a pooping Border Collie, but spotted by Kevin, and I wrote another column over at Native Plants & Wildlife Gardening.
I feel good. And I and a hard cider are about to go play Alice: Madness Returns and that is also good.