It's late September, and I really should get back to school, but the outdoors are calling. Tomorrow is the autumnal equinox, and the sugar maples are showing it. Monarchs and asters are past their prime, and it's dark later into the morning. The deer come creeping in early and late in the morning. Fawns are still nursing, but more opportunistically. I have to remove that salt block now, but it has been effective for drawing them in for photos.
Yesterday I returned the copyedited manuscript of the 1826 edition to the copyeditor in Portland, Oregon. Now she will make all the changes and corrections we agreed upon and send it on to Nebraska, where it will then be in line for typesetting. The next time I see it will be in the form of galley proofs, and then my job will be to read through it again, yes, but also to prepare the index, which will be a huge, tedious, and very important job. A good index adds a powerful dimension to the helpfulness of a book. I'm hoping the galleys won't come until Christmas break.
Alison is figuring out how to do her graduate studies, remain sane and thinking well of herself, and be available to me, her kids, her dad, her friends, her boss, and her donors. I probably left out someone--Oh, right: Herself! She had a minor meltdown about a paper she was trying to write Monday night, but Tuesday brought a return to light, buoyancy, and self-worth.
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