Errands yesterday took longer than I expected so I didn't have the wallowing time I love best at this stage of writing. Everything else in the world has to go hang, and I paddle around in the words. (You'd be surprised how little my non-writing family understands this part of the process.)
This time I'm trying to keep one other thing in control. I've been walking for nearly five months. I'm at three miles a day, and even in the recent heat, I don't want to break the habit. Last night, in an attempt to beat the effect of those climbing temps, my friend and I started out at 7, which was fine, but I usually do a couple of laps around the neighborhood after my buddy stops. Last night we stood chatting at her mailbox (did I mention I have an unfortunate gift for gab?), too long. Midway through my second lap, a bat started circling my head. Now I don't live in Transylvania, and I didn't look for Dracula to suddenly flutter to the ground in front of me, but you know--rabies.
So, as the bat seemed to be cutting his circles with every lap around my head, I covered my neck. I know, I know, but it was some crazy instinct I couldn't control. And I hustled home to put a house between me and the rat with wings.
Apologies to all who love bats.
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