The gift of the perfect shot.

Photo copyright Aji, 2022; all rights reserved.

Sometimes, you get granted the gift of the perfect shot. It's a young male red-winged blackbird, his red bars still no more than a faintly beige stripe. The entire red-wing clan decided, some months ago, to winter over with us this year, and simultaneously decided to have one more brood, and we now have more than fifty, perhaps closer to a hundred of their young here.

And the goldfinches and the chickadees and both kinds of jay and the hawks, of course. And the elk, although they haven't been back for the last several nights; with the snow mostly gone, they're apparently still able to find some forage up in the mountains.

And when we left this morning, I walked past a single bit of scat on the grass that I suppose might have belonged to Coyote, but it looked to me like that of Bear. Fewer than four yards from the house. Fortunately, Cricket knows when to stay put in his doghouse.

It's been a ridiculously busy day, which is why everything is so late. We had to go into town to ship some items, and then do a supply run that involved several different stops. There's a lot more to come, and Wings needs studio time. And to say that I need time to chase sales is an understatement of ever there were one. We all know the depredations of the colonial world won't wait. Everything's late all the time because I'm behind all the time, and that is very obviously not going to change before 2023. I still have to cover prepayment of next year's taxes, to the tune of a good four figures, before the end of the year, and I have no idea how I'm going to do that, given how slow sales have been all year (and losing several hundred dollars' worth of pledges on my Patreon this year has only worsened that). Now, if Twitter collapses? So does our best source of sales and subscriptions, by far, and I don't know how we survive that. Wings always assumes that everything will work out, but I'm the one who has to make sure it happens, and I'm failing at it pretty badly right now.

I will be doing nothing but pushing sales for at least the next five weeks. But I need to make this happen sooner rather than later, because the tax burden won't wait, and there's too much else that needs doing, even as my illness leaves me with less function by the day now. It's everything, from pain to balance to ability to walk properly to ability to use my hands properly, and the damage is increasing even as I'm running out of time to do it all. And Twitter's incipient destruction is going to deprive us of our biggest sales audience, and that means I'm going to be putting in twelve-hour days after the holidays trying to set up alternatives that won't have the effectiveness or the reach, and I am so depressed by it all by now that there aren't words. Which means I need help to get everything covered. We. Need. Sales.

All the links are here; please, share them, too (and there's a new wishlist priority, the automatic composter, which will do wonders for saving on waste and allow Wings to compost the land and trees regularly even through the winter; my physical function is impaired enough now that things can only get done if I have the help of equipment like this):

• Sales here; 
• Testimonials here; 
• Amazon wishlist here (priorities are, first and foremost, the wheelbarrow, then the other ladder);
• Patreon here;
• Ko-fi here.

We're still hoping to put aside enough for a new well when the ground thaws enough to drill in the spring, too, Nah, we've given up on the well. No one's available to drill before late next year at the earliest, and this year's tax burden means we would never be able to afford it anyway. But it's even more of a good time to make a purchase, because Uncle Sam is a vindictive colonizer, and my current stress levels about paying it all are off the charts. And there's lots of fabulous work, so please share all of the links. 

All content, including photos and text, are copyright Wings and Aji, 2022; all rights reserved. Nothing herein may used or reproduced in any form without the express written permission of the owner.