The plants has riz
I wonder where ze birdies iz?
Ze birds is on the wing …
Don’t be absurd, the wings is on ze bird!
Yes, I recall this little ditty each time spring nudges me in the sunny spots, every time I see the weeds taller than my knees, and I decide, there and then, to do something about it.
But the nettles are too big, the dangers too rife, the bees too busy out there … so I’m doing it here, on the blog.
It’s time to clean out!
If you’ve missed me over the last couple of days, that’s what I’ve been doing. Cleaning up. Sort of. And trying to figure out why so many of the sites I follow aren’t showing up on my reader. And why my likes and follows aren’t showing up.
Yep, time to clean up, chase up, and pester you all again.
However, if I’m not following you and you’re following me, and I usually show up and plop a tick on your post but it hasn’t happened for a while, let me know and I’ll reset the bar.
No, I don’t have any idea why these things happen, but I have noticed it’s a regular thing. That’s why it’s on my list of Spring Cleaning Duties. Check up on follows, clicks, likes, and reader visibility.
And I’ll delete a few posts. Mostly, these are reblogs or silliness posts, so you’re not missing anything.
There’s also the possibility of a new page! Not sure I should reveal this yet, but hey, if you know me then you can keep it under your hat, right? Anyway, I’m writing a series. Not horror or scary or criminal. Well, sort of not criminal. The series is situated in a remote country town in Western Australia (my home state, but the country town is a mix of different places), and to bring more feet to the main street they’ve decided to make a gallery of the old town hall.
All the stories will be based there, and the genre is mature-aged romantic suspense.
Does that tickle your fancy?
Want a taste? Okay, this is the possible description of the first story:
An old crook meets an old flame, but their relationship has a dangerous shadow – the man who murdered them both! To avoid the same fate the second time they meet means finding the opal that started it all and shoving it up the bastard’s arse.
And in case you’re wondering, it’s not erotica, and that stuff happens either behind closed doors, or in places where they take a bit of privacy for a moment.
That’s why I’m up to, what about you?