I don't think the FedEx guy likes us. He doesn't even ring the doorbell to announce his deliveries anymore. He just plops them on our doorstep and runs off.
In other news, I'm debating whether we need to give Hobkin a bath. What's triggering this conundrum is that I, err, dropped a dollop of whipped cream on him. I cleaned off most of it, but there's a patch of fur on his tail which is sticking up funny now.
Been working on my talk for Ann Crispin. Thanks to everyone who made suggestions. I have, ye verily, incorporated them into my lecture. I also ran through it several times last night (poor fosteronfilm had to listen to me), and after just a few trial runs, my throat went dry and my voice started going. Sheesh. Apparently it's a good thing I'm starting to practice early. I need to limber up my underused vocal chords. Also updated my handout of useful URLs. Most depressing, several of the pro markets that were on my list last year have either folded or gone on indefinite hiatus. Just doing a quick glance over the market listing I keep handy, a ridiculously large number of my favored markets are closed--both pro and semi-pro. The current state of viable short fiction venues is not good, although there are new ones sprouting--like Son & Foe, Farthing, and Aeon. Still, sigh.