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A blue heron and his mate, as well as a pair of Canadian geese like the pond. They don't all come by on the same days, but there's a cycle of everyone visiting about once a week. It being a freakishly mild winter since the ice storm, they're not hurrying south. I've been quiet when outside when any of these avians are about. But, Plume, well, she's a city cat, and today I watched her stalking, oh yes, the geese! Who, reasonably, stopped paddling about munching algae to gawk at her. She's all low crouch and stillness, and the geese, I imagine anthropomorphically, were thinking, Hey, honey, check that out. That cat actually thinks she's going to hunt us. Harnk harnk. Plume, it turns out, has one response to foreign objects and animals: offense.

Fleur just asked would I like a ride to Troy for recognisance purposes and "to give you a break, change of scene." Sweet. I do have a long day of thinking in front of me. One of the things you miss when you live alone, and don't know you miss after a while, is someone else taking you into consideration and acting on it. How lovely. I'm not interested in the reason we're going, it's mom's job, but the gesture is one you just accept because it's kindness.

Oh, and yes, after all the market research, my book is the only one of its sort, aim, and scope. Huzzah! Thus all the thinking today. It's Chapter Outline Day. Oh boy. Oh boy. A new friend here is right: all writers should be given secretaries who like to do this stuff.

Peace on you.