It has been a long time since my brain has allowed me to do edits. I’m working on the book about my father’s Alzheimer’s. It’s time to put the articles and essays I’ve done about Wyatt Earp into something viable. I’m doing that. My publisher wants the murder mystery. I need to get my act together and do a print-out, then find some pathetic sucker to do a quickie proof. After a slow start, I just realized I’m about 40% into the murder mystery #11. I’ve creeped myself out with this one. At least the brain is working.
I love the photos of the Thunderbirds I took several years ago.