Every now and then one of our goats will stick her head through the woven wire fence, and not be able to get it back out.
A few days ago I found Carrie in that condition. Bless her heart. There’s no telling how long she’d been stuck there.
I carefully maneuvered her head through the fence, freeing her. Once free she ran toward the barn where her unconcerned friends and family were lounging, without the slightest indication of gratitude to her rescuer.
The novel I finished last winter is still a mere manuscript. I had hoped to announce its publication by now. But, alas, I have discovered that publishing a book is in many ways more difficult than writing one. My self-imposed September deadline will pass sans novel. And that’s OK.
Because my head is not stuck in a fence (even though I spent a decade behaving as if it was), we’re leaving for vacation today. Gardens, goats, writing projects and the like will have to wait a while.