Just finished up an paid editing job that's kept me working till midnight the past few nights. It's a 350 page memoir of the author's time in Vietnam. I actually like editing other folk's stuff. It's an interesting challenge trying to tidy up loose ends, catch mistakes, and suggest changes that improve the prose, all without losing the author's unique voice. In this case there was the bonus of learning all kinds of stuff about helicopters and jungle warfare and Vietnam era army slang.
I put in a lot of long consecutive hours on this edit--consecutive because I do better while the whole thing is fresh in my mind and I can catch repetitions. And also because Josie wasn't here and it was raining and I wanted to get this job done before the rain quit and it was time to go pull weeds.
These pictures remind me of the utter bliss of going to the beach when I was little. It was, in my early years, the only time I was allowed to go barefoot outside because of my grandmother's fear of hookworms back home.
I remember the thrill of our first sight of dunes and beach and waves, pelicans skimming along in formation, crabs scuttling sideways to their holes, the enchanting murmur of the waves, and the fun of exploring the tidal pools.
I just hope someone on her beach staff is showing Josie how to make drip castles.
Once more, thanks to Nancy, my co-granny, for sending these pics!
