Name That Chick

face

I have been scarce around here because of 1) weather related events (featuring falling trees and tree frogs)  2) a contretemps with a “publicity consultant” 3) a nuclear war with my husband  (he lost as far as I am concerned, mutually assured destruction can be – er – pari-mutuel in some instances).

And numbers/issues 4-10) five unfinished short stories that are eating me alive.

Meantime, in lieu of anything significant or important to say here I thought I’d offer an alternative photo to those of me most of which my husband “hates” and which appear online. It is a photo of my niece that he likes. As has often happened to me, she was posing – gratis – for people she did not know and had no idea how her image would be used or manipulated by others.me in ad for paint (To the left, offered as evidence only, a very early case in point in my life. Of course my husband likes that one, he would. Get outta town, darling.)

Thereby hangs a tale – yet another one.

But I still have wood to pick up and tree frogs on my shoulders like epaulets.

the tree frog

the tree frog (Photo credit: egarc2)

Hey, little buddy.

 

 

 

 

 

 

For some reason snakes are everywhere around here this summer.  What do they think this place is, the Garden of Eden?

No, we are all fallen or falling here.

About Margaret Jean Langstaff

A lifelong critical reader with literary tastes, a novelist, short story writer, essayist, book critic, and professional book editor for many years. A consultant to publishers and authors, providing manuscript critiques and a full range of editorial services. A friend and supporter of all other readers and writers. A collector of signed modern first editions. Animal lover and tree hugger.
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