I started a fire in our smoker this morning and now have 15 split chicken breasts smoking. There's no party; we like smoked white chicken, it's healthy, and it freezes well. We'll be eating the chicken over the next month or so. I've been itching to burn some wood for some time; maybe it's one of these rites of spring like flying a kite. Although it was damp, foggy, and chilly this morning, the weather is cooperating, a fine day. I also have a wood fire going in our firepit, working to clear the yard of tree limbs that dropped during last winter's ice storms.
Friday, I sent another story off to be rejected. That's two I have 'in the mail.' Although the fun is in the creative process, final editing and sending it off gives me closure. And of course, lucking out and having one published will be fun, too. I've already started the next story, a prequel to the one I sent off.