One more morning of polishing up the manuscript and it will be ready to go to the editor. This is the point where I get nervous and anxious and worried that I haven’t done a particularly good job. Of course, this isn’t the last time I’ll see the manuscript. My analogy is that turning in a book is like sending the kid off to college. It isn’t the last you’ll see of her. She’ll be back, and she’ll bring her dirty laundry with her. I’m not sure how long it will be before I get the editor’s report back with change requests, but I’m looking forward to changing gears for a while and working on other things in the interim.
Last night I went into the back yard to clean up some branches that had been strewn about by recent storms. When I came around the corner, I saw a big bird standing in a clear part of the yard (we have a lot of trees back there). I called it a hawk in my mind, but upon doing some research I figure it’s more than likely a peregrine falcon, like the one pictured here. There were feathers scattered all around it in the grass. When it detected me, it stared (perhaps glared) for several seconds and then took off for a nearby tree branch with something clutched in its talons. Another bird, I figure, based on the evidence left behind. Supper. We have a lot of mockingbirds, and the occasional bluejay and cardinal, but this is the first time I’ve seen a falcon in our vicinity.
I watched Fringe last night, taped from the previous evening. I loved the final moment when Walter realized who had written the ZDF manuscript. My favorite line of the evening: “Walter, put the cow away, would you?” It would be easy to think that the entire premise is Umberto Eco-ish, in that a paranoid fantasy turns into something real when others take the fantasy seriously, but there have been enough crazy things going on that it’s fairly evident that the paranoia needs to be taken seriously. However, it is becoming increasingly clear that Walter is at the heart of everything. That’s why all of his early research is cropping up over and over again, but used for evil purposes. It’s not a coincidence or a contrivance. He’s the answer.
Life on Mars was fun last night, sort of X-Files-y. You can’t blame Sam for taking it all seriously for a few minutes when there was no one else around.
My favorite moment in the episode was a sigh. Locke’s sigh after Christian told him he couldn’t or wouldn’t help him get to the frozen donkey wheel. That single sigh was heartfelt and expressed everything from exasperation to resignation. Nothing has been easy for him–why should this be, it seemed to say.
Did anyone else think that it sounded like Hurley’s voice reciting the numbers on the French guy’s radio? Meaningful or just a joke by the producers? The smoke monster has in fine fettle this week, too. I like the temple. I wonder if there’s a four-toed statue nearby. Here’s the link to this week’s Lost Untangled. Five minutes and a few chuckles.
