September Sweeps - Day 586

Okay, let's finish this sucker today.  I believe I mentioned last night that I was ninety-nine percent done with "When You Need It Most," which you may think--perhaps rightly--is an awful title.  But wait till you read the book.  Its awfulness may far outshine that of its title, kids.

I woke up incredibly early today (like Marshal Latham or Count Dracula early).  It was dark, but there was the hint of light in the east, so I simply went back to sleep.  An hour or so later, I woke again, and the sun was now appearing over the hills and trees, the cabin a eerie orange color.  I went back to sleep.  The next time I woke, the sun was higher in the sky, still more than an hour before my alarm would go off.  I got up, ate a donut, edited some audio, and found my stomach aching (some kind of unpleasant cramping), so I laid down again and read my bo . . . and I slept.

My alarm went off, and I snoozed it, and ended up getting up--for real this time--later than I would on a normal day.  But ah well.  At least I'll be taking no naps this afternoon (though you never know).

The first thing I knew I had to do was to clean up the mess I'd left outside (once again, be warned).  I put on my shoes, grabbed a pair of gloves, and went out to the woods to dig a hole.  It had to be much bigger than the holes I put squirrels or woodchucks in, and it took a little while to dig a three foot hole that was two feet deep.

I went back to the house, afraid of what I'd find.  But the animal was indeed dead, seeming much less vicious now, though I took a picture of its claws, which are formidible.*  I hefted the trap with the badger in it and carried it into the woods, and was amazed by how much it weighed--I was lugging fifty pounds here!  I opened the trap and the large animal tumbled out into the grave, and it stuck out on the side--I hadn't dug it deep enough.

I buried the animal, and then took the trap to wash off in front of the cabin.  To my surprise, the big metal contraption still weighed twenty-five pounds or so, so the badger hadn't been quite as gargantuan as I'd imagined (I had had this idea yesterday of using a broomstick to move the trap out into the sun, not quite daring to pick it up with a vicious animal inside, but I might not have been able to manage that, despite doing an unholy number of push-ups every other day).  

I washed the trap as best I could, then filled some buckets and went back to where the trap had been and tried to clean up the mess I'd made.  It took four buckets full of water, but there was still blood visible in the puddle I'd created, slowly sinking into the gravel there.  

I guess it's going to be useful information, for the next time I write about killing somebody.

Sit-ups Today: 111
Sit-ups In September: 1016

Well, I spent most of the day--wasted most of the day, my father would've said--reading, finishing one book and starting another.  I also recorded an old Ambrose Bierce story, and am leaning toward recording one more, before it starts getting late enough to pack up my stuff and head back in a northerly direction.

As far as writing goes . . . so far, I have twenty-three words for the day.  A part of me doesn't want to write the last bit of my book, because it's going to be the end of the road for our weary travelers, and the company has been--though frustrating at times--pretty fine.  As soon as I'm done, I'll get to work on publishing stuff.  First up needs to be the one-two punch of "Meet the New Clerk" and "The Last Friday In December," both of which are ready to go (except for recording the author's note on the latter), lacking only the cover art.  

This may or may not be the last time I see my friend Lara Demming for a while.  She's a character who is dear to me, whose defining characteristic (in my mind) is not that she's particular smart or beautiful, but that she's good.  I dropped a couple of details about her past in this story--which takes place her last year of high school--such as a scar on her leg and having taken a human life, which will hopefully have me returning to her before too long to figure out the story/ies behind them.  

It would be nice if, the next time I write about her, I'm not the only one curious what's been going on with her.

Push-ups Today: 66
Push-ups In September: 1161

Well . . . I could have finished the book today, if I really wanted to.  But I must not have wanted to, because I started on the last scene, wrote half of it, and called it a day.  Self-destructive much?

Words Today: 288 (not a lot, I know.  It must be psychological)
Words In September: 8189

*It had been much easier to shoot the creature last night when it was snarling and hissing at me, a little like the way Old Yeller went in the end: "That's not your dog anymore, Arliss."