Eamon and Abby Sitting in a tree . . .

Well, maybe not in a tree and not K-I-S-S-I-N-G. Yet. But things are progressing.

Remember Eamon the sheep that Abby Green sent me from the far reaches of Ireland?

Well, if you don't, here he is. He's on my bookshelf staring down at me as I write.

Remember Eamon's Greek cousin, Mr Bushy Moustache. Abby sent him to me from her trip to Greece (research, don't you know?).

Remember Eamon the Apron (who actually sounds like a Welsh chef, if you ask me) that Abby sent from, um, well, I don't exactly know where. Dublin perhaps?

I thought that all this Eamon sending was getting a little one-sided.

Yes, I've threatened to write her a hero called Eamon. But I'm up to my eyeballs in another book right now. And I need to get back to Seb and Neely at some point. So Eamon-and-Abby The Book might be a ways off.

Consequently I decided she needed a reminder of Eamon in her life. Preferably somewhere she couldn't miss him -- like in her bed.

And so my version of Eamon went winging her way late last week. (Those are little sheep if you can't tell what the black and white things are!)

She says he has arrived. She especially likes the black sheep among the others. I see character development on the horizon.

And other things, too, as now she's gone to bed with him. Quick work, Abby!