Florida weather today in the 70's so I'm outside on the patio editing manuscripts when my cat Savannah decides to present me with the gift of a dead mole (or vole, I can't tell the difference).
After tossing it in the air several times hoping to amuse me, she turned it into lunch. I tried to ignore the spectacle since I'd just had lunch myself, but tuning out the crunch of skull bones taxed my powers of concentration. This happened not once but twice.
On the upside, my stomach's getting stronger.
Oh, I went to see Juno last night, mainly because it won the Oscar for best screenplay. I was underimpressed and came away thinking Hollywood must be seething with hard working experienced screenwriters who choose not to pave their way to success via the route of hype and porn. (Just my opinion.)
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