Transmission

It's the transmission, not the clutch (what do I know?), and will cost us a tight thousand bucks to have it replaced. We may have the truck back by Monday.

Ouch.

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Here's a job posting for all you fiction writers out there who wouldn't mind living in Kentucky. [ tenure-track; starts Aug 2007; apps due by 12/1/06 ]

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Randy just fixed our toilet with a universal flapper he bought at the local hardware store. The plastic mechanism is bright yellow and the brand name is Hornet. I'm in love with the term "universal flapper." Say it with me. Don't you feel like smiling?

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Does anyone have hands-on experience working with CLMP's submission manager program? They're pushing it right now, and though I've managed to streamline and tailor our own submission database (the database and the tracking procedures) over the past few years, I'm always open to a new time-saving program. Anyone?

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The cicadas are in full orchestration. Last year, the mega-brood didn't make it this far north, though it got as close as DC--lots of poems from that area about cicadas. I'm guilty as well of using cicada imagery in at least one poem. I've also thought that the empty husks would make great (read: macabre) Halloween jewelry.

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Lily and Janie were just at the back door: our "Sweet 100" tomatoes, which we've allowed to range through the flower bed (and somewhat over the fence that separates our yard from the Kellys'), were apparently loaded with ripe tomatoes. The girls spied them through the fence, and their mom helped them pick a nice little bagful. Good neighbors are such a--I started to write "blessing" here, but it sounds so Pollyanna--I should check with Charlie and see what term he'd use (tee hee).

[photo: viola face]