I seem to be killing things off today. I retired a bunch of short stories. I had my reasons. Have you ever noticed how few markets there are for young adult short stories? I’m not talking about paying markets… just markets in general. I’m not all the way down the list; I just hit the point that the effort outweighs my commitment to the story. Anyway, into the trunk it goes. I also trunked a couple of things I don’t think I was completely comfortable with. Do I want to send this out again? Do I want it to be published? Today’s perspective? No. Not really. I might look at them again, later. Right now, I’ll focus on the next thing.
I’m also killing hornets. I have to figure out how they keep getting in, because I’m not talking about one or two stray hornets. I think I counted about twenty five. My vote is for the dryer vent, or maybe the space around it isn’t as well-sealed as it could be. The woman I bought the bug spray from (by the way? that can has a seriously nice throw to it.) would like to vote for the hole the cable television cable goes through. The problem with that, though, is that the cable enters the other end of the house, and it’s two doors away from where the hornets wound up.
Killing pests has a weird way of reminding me of Love of My Life College Edition. We had an agreement wherein I would kill the pests, and he would clean up the corpses afterward. Now, I have oodles of hornet corpses, and no one to get rid of them. **sigh** I should go back to the thing where the perfect man just has cute hair, and not expect a set of qualities including idiosyncrasies like: Willing to Clean Up the Great Hornet Massacre of 2021.
Yes, the dead-ness (or potentially, the not-quite-deadness) of them bothers me more than the hornet-ness of them.
No. No, that’s not weird, at all.