Picnic Success
I survived the big picnic.
We arrived back here after an afternoon at my hubby’s Sportsmen’s Club where all my Sisters in Crime who write about murder and mayhem, but who in fact had never handled a real firearm, learned how to shoot trap and targets with shotguns, pistols and revolvers. Armed with loads of ideas for how to pump up their WIPs (Works in Progress for the uninitiated) and a major case of the hungries, no one noticed the weeds popping up through the mulch. My flowers looked bright and perky thanks to an abundance of rain. And said rain managed to give us a break and didn’t wash us out.
There was food and soft drinks and wine and beer. And lots of talk and camaraderie. My dear friends celebrated my finding an agent with a champagne toast. It was a nice day.
Am I glad it’s over? You bet. So is my cat, who spent the day hiding in the spare room wondering who were these people who had invaded her space.
Now, life is back to normal. The weeds are free to grow as they wish. The rain is keeping the flowers looking nice with no help from me.
And that champagne? Well, there was a little left over. I’ve been enjoying a Mimosa or two. Or three. Okay, maybe things aren’t entirely back to normal. Once the champagne goes flat and I have to pour the leftover down the drain (such a waste), and I’m back to drinking ginger ale, THEN life will be back to normal.
We arrived back here after an afternoon at my hubby’s Sportsmen’s Club where all my Sisters in Crime who write about murder and mayhem, but who in fact had never handled a real firearm, learned how to shoot trap and targets with shotguns, pistols and revolvers. Armed with loads of ideas for how to pump up their WIPs (Works in Progress for the uninitiated) and a major case of the hungries, no one noticed the weeds popping up through the mulch. My flowers looked bright and perky thanks to an abundance of rain. And said rain managed to give us a break and didn’t wash us out.
There was food and soft drinks and wine and beer. And lots of talk and camaraderie. My dear friends celebrated my finding an agent with a champagne toast. It was a nice day.
Am I glad it’s over? You bet. So is my cat, who spent the day hiding in the spare room wondering who were these people who had invaded her space.
Now, life is back to normal. The weeds are free to grow as they wish. The rain is keeping the flowers looking nice with no help from me.
And that champagne? Well, there was a little left over. I’ve been enjoying a Mimosa or two. Or three. Okay, maybe things aren’t entirely back to normal. Once the champagne goes flat and I have to pour the leftover down the drain (such a waste), and I’m back to drinking ginger ale, THEN life will be back to normal.
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