What went before: Eight hundred-ish new words today, bringing the total WIP to +/-53,200.
I have some bills to pay tonight and some accounting to bring up to day, but more or less I’m done for the day. Tomorrow, I’m free to write, so that’s nice, though I could always throw in a load of laundry and pretend to be keeping house.
It looks about ready to rain here, so I’m clearly in for the night.
Everybody stay safe; I’ll see you tomorrow.
Oh, hey — have a snippet:
“Did the master trader receive any more letters?”
“He did not. However, I have had a letter from my brother Ren Zel, who shares news of kin.”
Priscilla settled her head more comfortably. “Is Anthora well?”
Shan raised a finger. “Who is telling this?”
“You are,” Priscilla said, not at all contrite. “Please do bore on.”
“Thank you. Where was I?”
Saturday.
So, I’ve been more awake than asleep since 2:30ish, and finally gave up on the whole idea of getting any more sleep at 4:15ish. I refilled the dry cat food, which, yes, you could see the bottom of the bowls, fed Trooper some of the gravy he favors with the probiotic mixed in, made myself a cup of what I suspect will be MANY cups of tea for the day, opened the curtain in my office to survey the carnage wrought on my rose bush, drank my tea, wrote in my journal, and now I guess I’ll throw in a load of laundry and survey the front garden for a good place to dig a hole to try to save the rose bush’s life.
One of my other tasks on the day will be calling a critter removal service. Because, yes, I am feeling a tiny bit vindictive.
In service of not spreading my black mood around, I will be shutting down social media for the day.
Everybody stay safe.
What critter would have wanted to dig out your rose? A squirrel? A possum? Hope you’re able to save the rose! I’ll be spending the day puttering and recovering from a biopsy slice off the bottom of my tongue. This is the fourth time a spot has needed to be removed, which is quite annoying. The pain is bearable, but stitches in your tongue? Even if you don’t need it for talking, and you avoid eating anything but soft, soft foods, you have to use the thing just to swallow occasionally. So the stitches last a bare few hours before popping out no matter how careful you are.
O my gosh! The OUTRAGE! That is indeed the nether end of too much.