Avon walk and a critique offer

The Avon walk is in two weeks, and I would love to raise just a little more.  Everyone has been enormously generous, and I knew I could count on you all to help with this cause.  Thanks for listening to my training logs and my little whines.  To make a direct donation, go here.

Everyone knows I almost never offer critiques of manuscripts.  It’s mainly a time issue, but I’m going to break that rule and offer three critiques of two chapters and a synopsis, or 35 pages.   If you get win the auction and get the pages to me before July 5, I promise you’ll have it back in time for the RWA conference (if that is important to you), or within a month. 

Check back later today for the actual auction announcement, which I’ll conduct through ebay.  And feel free to tell anyone you think might want to bid.  

Now to the training log:
This weekend: 33 miles; 23 Saturday, 10 on Sunday (hooray!).  For the week: 38.

My friend Renate walked with me on Saturday.  It’s the first time I’ve had a companion on the long walk, and it made the time go by so much faster.  We talked about positive thinking and our upcoming trips (hers to Germany, mine to Australia) and sang folks songs, mostly to each other since she is German and we didn’t know many of the same songs, except “The Saints Go Marching In.”  She sang me songs in German, about her village and valley in Bavaria, and then I sang some songs from my childhood, Olayomakeo (I have no idea how that is spelled), about a girl who never wants to get married, and she sang a song I knew as “The Apple Dumpling Song” from Suzuki practice when my boys were learning violin and cello. 

The German songs and translations made me remember going to the VFW with my friend Sally to hear her brother and sister play in the band.  She would translate the songs, all of them bloody and sad (“this one is about a man who killed his wife and lover, then followed them to heaven, where he killed them again.”) When I told Renate, she said, “oh yes, kitchen songs!” and sang a song about a boy who went looking for Edelweiss to win his fair love’s heart, and died bringing it back.  

 She got a blister from a walking sandal and we rigged up a special bandage out of bandaids and tissues, which made me remember all the things I have learned by training.   Which socks to wear, which hat, which pack I want to carry, which one makes my shoulders ache.   By the end, we were both tired and giddy, but vowing to walk Pikes Peak in July. 

Yesterday was my last long training walk before the taper.  I went to Rampart Reservoir, and it was so beautiful I had to take pictures for you, even if they are lousy cell phone shots.  This is a STUNNING spot.  Aspens shaking pale green coin leaves above white bark, dark Ponderose pines, the forest floor starred with wild iris and something that looks like yellow sweet peas.  The water is extraordinarily clear, so in some places, you can see the red boulders just below the surface, like a table for mermaids. 

I’d never been there before, but I can tell you I will be back to hike the circle.  Soon!

 

 

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