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Lakeside
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I went to sleep Friday feeling terrible, and woke up Saturday feeling pretty much okay -- I could breathe, my throat didn't hurt, no body aches, etc. Still a bit run-down from fighting off the cold, but definitely on the mend.

Heather felt better, so we ambled, with her sister, mom, and our nephew, down to the farmer's market. We had breakfast at The Coffee Mill, where you can get a ginormous plate of pancakes, eggs, bacon, and hash browns for about $8 (and I mean ginormous). The weather was beautiful, and life was good. Still is.

Last week, when I was feeling stressed, and ill, I started taking stuff really personally, getting oversensitive and easily irritated. The thing was, I knew it was irrational, that my worldview was poisoned by my physical distress, but that knowledge didn't help ease the experience. Apologies to anyone I vented my spleen upon. My perspective seems to be pretty much properly aligned again now.

After brunch and marketing yesterday, in the hottest part of the afternoon, Heather and I slipped off to see a matinee of X-Men III. I went in knowing I'd have to disengage my brain, so I enjoyed it pretty well. There's a place for mindless summer fun -- it's only disappointing because the first two movies were better, and I'd hoped the trilogy would end on a high point. But, hey, Kitty Pryde phased Juggernaut and got him stuck in concrete, which is really all I ask of an X-Men film. I'll rent the DVDs of the X-Men: Evolution cartoon series, which, from the few episodes I've seen, is good. And I can watch 'em with my three-year-old nephew, who wants to be Wolverine when he grows up.

I got up this morning and decided to be virtuous, reading the last few unread Flytrap submissions and then undertaking the arduous task of winnowing my "maybe" file from 25 stories down to 5. I've got a final fiction line-up, now, and will post it once I know all the authors got their acceptances!

We went over to the lake today, to see the goslings. They're mostly past the incredibly adorable fuzzy baby stage, into that awkward period where they look like stout little beer kegs with legs, but they're still damned cute. We took a few photos, and here are a couple of the smallest gosling:

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Goslings are good for the soul. I love springtime by the lake. Maybe I'll ask Heather to do a flickerset of all the pictures -- there are some really lovely shots of geese on the lake, etc.

Tonight, I'll make fajitas. We'll drink margaritas. We'll enjoy the sense of summer rushing in on us.



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