In which pies do not bake themselves, nor books, write themselves

So, yesterday was a doze-and-read day.  I’m a little more than half-done The Enchantment Emporium, that being the book that was on the top of the TBR pile, and therefore the book that I grabbed when Steve needed to get in to the doctor on Thursday.

Today — or at least this morning — I feel competent to deal with the manuscript without fearing that I’ll break something, so that’s at the top of the list.  With any luck (sigh), I’ll be able to finish the combined read-through/edit/lexicon-build that was supposed to have been completed on Monday.

I’m hoping to see the edits for “The Night Don’t Seem so Lonely,” sometime realsoonnow.  I went through it, but all I found were two missing words.  Possibly not a good sign.

The cats did let us sleep last night.  At one point, I woke enough to shift around, thereby disturbing Mozart, who was sleeping on my shoulder.  Instead of removing himself from the bed in a huff, he turned around and tucked his head under Trooper’s chin (Trooper being asleep by my knee).  Trooper licked Mozart’s ear, purred and we all three went back to sleep.

I’m thinking they may have gotten a stern note from the NE Feline Union Rep regarding Friday night’s shenanigans.  Or Scrabble read them the riot act.

In any case, I’m going to be scarce, so here’s some reading matter:

For those interested in Tarot and the lives of artists:  Fool’s Journey:  The Fascinating Life of Pamela Colman Smith

For those interested in the lives of artists and perhaps those who believe that poor people are merely stupid or lazy:

Why Poor People Stay Poor

. . .and that’s all I got.

Everybody have a good day.


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