for Tracker had been transmitted electronically just before the big computer blow-up, and I’d flat forgotten. My e-mail is still wonky: I never know whether something has been sent or not, and sometimes it has and sometimes it perhaps hasn’t.

At any rate, yesterday I got a frantic call about ‘where’s the galleys?’ and had to drop everything and re-read Tracker for errors in the final, galley-type pdf. Started yesterday, reading for things like periods instead of commas as well as bad hyphenation divisions between pages and outright oopses in the text, so it’s a different kind of reading than just reading. Tiring.

I got on it about 3pm yesterday and finished the whole book about 1pm today. And the corrections, about 15 in number, are phoned in and made the deadline. It’s going to production as of 5pm Eastern.

Now I feel as if I deserve a vacation, and have Bren’s I’ve-been-working-hard headache. But I need to get back to the book I was writing, which was right at a major turning point.

It’s sure a lot easier than it was before the industry started going from computer scripts, which is why it’s a real good thing to be good at punctuation and spelling in this career. Thank goodness for a language background.

Did I mention we’ve had the first Great Blue Heron of spring? I think the season is headed in that direction. He flew off, disgusted by the netting that covers the pond. The koi have begun to put their noses out. But we’re still wearing down coats.

Grey and overcast here, and has been for a week: humidity quite high. Spring in the Inland Empire, on the skirts of the Selkirks, and between the Spokane and the Palouse rivers. It’s wet.

Jane just came in, after I’ve heard drilling and fastening as she puts up shelves. Seems we have a ceiling that isn’t flat. And her overhead calc is, after drilling, apparently not exact. Mmm. Frustrating.

Her computer memory which was supposed to be winging its way here has not been through a Post Office scanner in, oh, three days. We are giving it a little grace for the big Eastern storm with delay of planes—but pretty soon we’re going to need to complain.

My computer is functioning fairly well, except the mail thing. Thank goodness: if I had lost the file, we would have missed deadline, and there would be 15 mistakes in Tracker which now will not be there.

So a productive day, give or take my mail, Jane’s ceiling, and missing memory chip. I am asking myself if I really want salad for supper—I am getting very tired of Caesar dressing and spinach salad and chicken. But if I cook the chicken with curry spice, I think I can tolerate another go. Lynn A. gave us this lovely fig balsalmic I’ve fallen in love with, and pouring a little of that on (not Jane’s cuppa, but certainly mine!) may make it pretty darned good.