The Anatomy of A Day

Woke up quick, at about noon, just thought that I had to be in Compton soon...

Nope, not really. We rise around 5:45 around these parts, as Lyla has her old man's genes. I suppose the years of swim team practices and early morning Gumby watching (back-to-back episodes from 6:00-7:00 in John Day, Oregon) burned a toughness groove in that little baby's brain.

At any rate, Lyla and I had a hell of a morning. Lots of good play and some serious gains in the field of counting (specifically, five through ten).

I dropped her off at school and headed into the college, and I rocked the edit on my first completed short story of the year. I sent the piece, a longish interpretation of a very simple, monosyllabic word, to a magazine I admire, and then I drove out to the Round Marsh for a long jog.

Got out there to the end of the trail and found that the tide was out. It was easy to see that a bunch of bait fish, and maybe even a few slow big'uns, didn't read the tide quite right. I laughed as a big brown pelican ate three times in five minutes. That ol' bird had his stuff figured out, and he was fishing those waters like he had a show on Discovery. I watched him for a good long while, and I'll just admit it: the pelican is my favorite bird.

Picked up Lyla and dinner and said a brief and silent prayer for finished tales and tenacious pelicans. Damn, Florida really grows on you...

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