Hunted for six hours. I saw one turkey. It was right in front of me, but I was being too careful about making big movements when picking up my gun, and I took too long. It walked out of my view.
Gray World is a story I thought would never sell. I was just sending it out because I’d made a promise to myself that I would no longer self-reject my work, and just keep everything on the market and see what happens. So, I kept sending it out. I was surprised when Natasha Brooks at Bare Back Magazine said she wanted to buy Gray World for the May 2018 issue.
I haven’t been turkey hunting yet, but today I got the blind up. I decided to set up base in the Pine Tree Corridor, way across the field from the Bat Shack and my hunting ground. From inside the blind, I would have a nice wide view of the hill.
Other news. Recently my dad was on my hunting ground, where the Bat Shack is, and he found this broken arrow. He showed it to me today and I confirmed that it is the arrow that killed Deer #2. It’s a four-blade broadhead. I remember that it went through the deer and got stuck in the ground behind it. That was October 2016.
I’m getting anxious for deer season.
I’m tired. Been doing yardwork since 7 AM. So, I’m just going to insert these Before and After pictures. I’m going to do the same thing on the other side of the porch and down one side of the house.
Been outside since 7 this morning, busting my ass on a landscaping project I’ve been wanting to do since last year. But more about that later.
I was hungry and figured I could use a beer. So, I put in an order on Shipt.com. for an Italian sub and a six-pack of Jamaica’s Red Stripe.
Well, Red Stripe comes in funny little bottles, but it’s fine beer. So, that’s another so-called nasty, dreadfully disgusting beer that gets my approval, and I still haven’t met a beer I disliked.
Come on, guys, point me to a beer that’s TRULY disgusting. Because, no matter what people claim, I still don’t believe such a beer exists. Prove me wrong! Destroy my religion! Show me a beer that is so nasty, I’ll never drink it again!
Welp, lunchbreak is over. Back to work.
A friend has a Facebook thread going right now, because she accidentally dialed 911. Other people are commenting about times when they’ve done the same. Someone commented about a time when they were hosting a Super Bowl party and some kids called 911.
That reminds me of a time when I was a kid. I dialed 911 on a payphone at a hall where our extended family was having a Christmas party. I was goofing around and I didn’t know it would work if I wasn’t putting money in the phone. But then the police showed up.
I remember the cop talking to Aunt Geri. I couldn’t really hear what was being said, but I had a feeling he was there because someone had called 911. I think Aunt Geri was telling him that it was probably one of the kids. After the cop left, Paul or Dean confirmed to me what I had suspected. The cop had responded to a bogus 911 call.
On that evening. I learned that it’s not necessary to put coins into a payphone when calling 911. I’m not sure what year that was. I might’ve been eleven at the time, maybe twelve. No one figured out it was me.
So, if anyone in the Darnell-Anderson extension remembers that, now you know who made that call.
I hung that Red Stripe wall décor thing Mom and Dad got for me when they were in Jamaica. I’m not sure I like it there, though. Pondering whether I should lower it a few inches. But after hitting my thumb with the hammer a thousand times, I don’t want to mess with it right now.
My mom and dad just got back from Jamaica. They brought me this. When my mom was handing it to me, at first I thought it was a bottle of liquor. But then I realized it’s a flat, wooden piece of wall art. I was mildly disappointed that it wasn’t something I could drink, but it’s still cool. I know where I’m going to hang it.
I guess Red Stripe comes from Jamaica. I did not know that before today. I’d been seeing it in stores and have thought to give it a try. I know some people say the stuff is nasty, but every time I try a so-called nasty beer, I don’t detect a thing wrong with it. Think I’ll see if I can get a Shipt shopper to bring me some tonight.
One of the short stories I’ve been shopping around has gotten positive feedback from editors at three different publications. They all said about the same thing. They like the story but feel some things need to be developed better, and they’ve suggested changes that they feel would make the story better.
I agree with them, but this is one of my older stories and I’ve reworked it so many times already. Now when I start to go over it again, I feel burned out. So, I’m writing a new story that uses the idea from the old story, but is very different in layout, characters and plot, and I’m using the suggestions the editors gave me.
I’m still shopping the old story around, because maybe someone will want it as it is. A couple of my stories that I thought would never sell have sold, so these days I keep everything on the market and see what happens.
The Tigers just showed Cleveland what baseball in Detroit is all about.
I wrote 1,246 words (7 pages) in two hours today, on a story. Going downstairs to hit the speedbag for a while, and then I’m going to have a two-hour session on the novel.
My Deeply Unhip Mixed Playlist is getting me through these sessions.