So, a day of catch-up, and answering emails, and tomorrow it’s back to work. By which I mean reading Carousel Seas to the point where I had to leave it, and going on from there. Or not. It’s close enough to finished that a cold read is going to be a big help, and even though we were only away for five days, enough happened in that five days that I feel like I’ve been away from the story for a month.
After an initial period of pretending not to know who I was, Mozart has gone to clinging tightly and murmuring little complaints betimes. I think that I’m to understand that we were away for far longer than was permissible, the weather was too hot, our house sitter was the Wrong Person (though ordinarily he adores her), and he was plagued the whole time by bad dreams. Poor Mozart.
Here’s a picture of the Friday night Liaden reception at BEA. Picture taken, I believe, by Mr. Andrew L. Porter.
…this reminds me that I need to write to David, to thank him for the contents of The Tube, which we didn’t open until we were safely at home.