Voting by Mail

 Hello to Friday.  This is my almost Hump Day, since I only work 4 days this week.  Monday begins another 3 days off, which I will enjoy.  I will be hanging a tapestry, and cleaning the aquarium.

Speaking of my aquarium, the angelfish laid another clutch (I think that's what it's called) of eggs.  This time they were on the heater.  They hovered over them for a few days, and then they were gone, all of them.  Food no doubt.  They're fish.  Everything is instinctual.

I'm still waiting for the phone call letting me know about my cortisone shot.  I hope it happens soon.  Though I do have to admit things are slowly improving, the same way they did 6 years ago, though back then I walked with a cane.  Where I was waking up every 2 hours to sit against heating pad for 45 minutes, I'm now either sleeping through the entire night or getting up once for a twenty minute heat therapy session.

Last night I woke up around midnight, and though I probably didn't need it, enjoyed a session while I sat at the computer filling out my ballot for November's election.  One thing I find tremendous about voting by mail is the fact that I can research the candidates on my computer.  Too often when you step into the voting booth, you look at all of the names and say to yourself "who the hell are all these people."  When you have 4 Democrats running for 1 position, you want to make sure you chose the most qualified, right?  I wouldn't be surprised if this was another major reason Republicans hate mail-in voting; you can research the candidates and make an educated decision, rather than chose the most attractive candidate, or the one who's name sounds familiar.

For example, this year one of the candidates for a judgeship was endorsed by some 'right to life' group.  This judge, a woman, did not get my vote.

Here's a catchy little tune from The Wombats.  Could these lyrics show up in my next book?

Speaking of books, I'm moving on to Chapter 23 of The Body in Repose, which means there are about 11 or 12 more to go, and then there will be a bit of rewrite before I unleash this thing upon my readers.  And, as usual, my mind has already begun moving to the next.  I had wanted to send Eli and Max to Pamplona and bullfights, and toreadors, but then...  this picture jostled into the front of my mind: red woolen gloves, fingertips, ice, blowing snow and snow mobiles on Mackinac Island.  Could all of this be inching me towards The Body Under Ice?