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"I say we take our clothes off."

"Why don't we get in the back seat?"

"I want to poke you."

"What does the rest of the house look like?"

Now dear reader, make no assumptions, please. I have garnered these morsels from many sources and may actually have never heard any of them myself.

The painting depicts that rascal Cupid and his lover Psyche. I'd say he's primed for success right here, wouldn't you?

In my nun book, or ex-nun book that I am writing, my protag will of course face the dating world She will fall for the worst cads, of course, because she is entirely innocent. But the fat guy will be there all the way and getting less fat as time goes by.

It's not a romance, though.

She has lost her faith in God but can't and doesn't tell anybody. It's not like anything I have written before.

In other news, mass quantities of bees are marshalling forces outside my bedroom window and indeed outside all the upstairs windows. It's a yearly thing for them, probably like the company Christmas party and I wouldn't doubt that many of them are drunk and attempting seductions themselves. The constant buzzing is annoying and alarming in a dull muted way.

GO PICK ON SOMEBODY ELSE!

I'VE GOT ENOUGH PROBLEMS WITH SQUIRRELS!

They (the bees) occasionally build little mud hives right on the side of the house, which I bravely reach out and whack loose.

BEGONE!

I SMITE THEE!

QUIT PROBING MY RHODODENDRONS (possible further connection to seduction theme)

Sorry, I keep yelling. But I AM NOT AFRAID OF BUGS!!! Seriously. I can kill an ant or spider with my thumb while I sit talking at the kitchen table.

Some have been horrified by this.

Men are ridiculous where bugs are concerned. I never met one who didn't want to kill them with aerosol spray. In the time it takes to mildly choke a wasp with oven cleaner fumes, I could have killed a dozen of them with a wrapped-up magazine. [shakes her head in disgust and strolls outside to lasso a few dogies, wherever they may come from here in central Massachusetts]

And so I am off to NYC for a writers' conference, which promises to be great fun. I am moderating a panel of high-octane literary agents, so let's pray that I don't trip over anything or otherwise make an ass of myself.

Death to all bugs and snakes!

A bientot

love,

becky