Letters to Holly

Friday, July 8

Media Exposure

I'm going to be in the local paper again.

A reporter contacted about my unofficial station as the local comic artist. It's a sidebar for an article on the new comic store. The reporter found out about me via the minicomics on sale there, and I wouldn't be surprised if the store owner mentioned me by name. He's good like that. We set up an appointment for Saturday morning in my workshop. I told him about the article I wrote about myself for the Asheville convention; that should give him a strong base for our chat. I'll need to take down the nude fashion photos from the bulletin board lest they appear in the background of my portrait. That would make the average reader catch the vapors.

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The sidekick stays home today, and it appears he was losing the novelty of daycare. He lost composure as I dropped him off and picked him up yesterday, and we had to pull over as we left Asheville so he could collect himself enough to sleep. Your Sis hopes to wear him out enough today that he sleeps through the night again.

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The plentiful rain has inspired the pumpkin seeds to sprout already. They were put in the ground just under a week ago. The pea vines -- if they are pea vines and not an alien maneater with a flair for Motown -- are standing by themselves.

Picture of the Day
The last shuttle mission may begin today, weather permitting. The crew is limited to four people as that's how many can fit in a Syouz capsule docked at the space station if the shuttle is damaged in liftoff. I remember the shuttles debuts and, of course, the loss of two over the years. I think we'll have to rely on private enterprise to have a regular space program again, and that presents some interesting questions about ownership of extra-planetary territories when Richard Branson's ships land on the moon. Or Mars.

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