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The aim of waking is to dream
SNIPPET:
"We ain't so full up at Jelaza Kazone right at present," she said.
"No." He turned on his heel to gaze at her. "The clan is much reduced, I know. In my day, you could buy cousins in lots of a dozen. Come into the kitchen at any hour, and you would be certain to meet a hand or more of them, eating, drinking, playing, as I said, at cards; reading – and quarreling, naturally. We are a quarrelsome lot. Or were. Perhaps our manners are by necessity better, without numbers to back us."
What went before: Well. It has been an unexpectedly productive day. I haven't quite finished the laundry, though there's still time for that to happen. I fed myself lunch, cleaned up the kitchen, put the clean towels away, did my duty the cats, took a walk, and!
Wrote. I really REALLY like this scene, at +/-780 new words, which leaves the WIP entire a breath short of +/-54,000. Perhaps tomorrow, since I know what the scene after this scene is -- though not exactly after this one, but -- oh, never mind. I'm declaring a victory for the write-what-you-like school of drafting today.
I also need to check in with the smoke detector, which failed to start screaming when I opened the oven to retrieve lunch and a billowing cloud of olive-oil scented smoke emerged. Possibly, it was unset during dusting and needs its button pushed. If it needs a new battery, I will be very cross, since it's supposed to have a 10-year battery onboard.
I discovered when I was folding socks last night that I was missing one, and, as mandated in The Manual, went back to make sure it wasn't still in the dryer, or in the hamper, or on the floor, but could discover no sign of it. Well. I hadn't paid the Portal Tax for a while, so I was ... unhappy, but not distraught. This morning, when I moved the towel hamper to start loading the washer, I found the missing sock behind it. I call Feline Shenanigans. Which is, I admit, better than the Portal Tax.
Anywise. I have to do some desk prep for tomorrow -- new to-do list and whatnot. And eventually, it will be Coon Cat Happy Hour. But, really, I'm done for the day, and well-satisfied with my accomplishments.
Everybody stay safe; I'll see you tomorrow.
Well. Monday, I believe. Cloudy and said to be on and off rainy. I'm up but not at 'em and am drinking a motivational cup of tea while I address the internets.
The rosebush has survived its second night in the garden.
Trooper has had his first snack of the day, the one with the probiotic stirred into it, and is now resting comfortably on the copilot's chair. Firefly is staring at me from the observation table next to the window, possibly attempting to indicate on the Cat Telepathy Channel that she, too, would like a bowl of Delectable gravy. Tali (Wrasslin' Name TaliBOOM) and Rook (Wrasslin' Name Rookie the Cookie) are alternatively wrasslin' and zooming.
The writer, Yr Hmbl Correspondent, is really struggling to keep her eyes open, here.
sips tea
On today's menu -- a haircut! The timing of this blessed event suggests that I'll be stopping at Holy Cannoli to pick up something to take home for lunch, or perhaps I'll opt to eat there, and sit in the window, brooding over Main Street in the Grand Romantical Style. We shall see.
Also on today's task list: one's duty to the cats, playing with the smoke detector (I failed to finish that yesterday, having found the instruction booklet), and trying to figure out why the electric broom (essential to my plan to keep the basement stairs free of dust and fur) doesn't, err, suck. Also, I want to write.
That seems like a full day, right there. Of course, I deliberately maintain a low bar.
I do think that's all the news from this location. I really need to finish my tea and go find pants. And a shirt, too, I suppose. And then I hope to be awake enough to hunt the wily Everything Bagel.
And how are you this morning?
Today's blog post title brought to you by e e cummings "in time of daffodils"