New word this morning: “Waffle.” When he saw them he thought they were huge crackers, and he was overjoyed. Waffles are a definite hit, just as French toast was last week.
There are pictures of him wandering around with one, but I’m too weary to go through the whole process of finding the camera again, downloading the pictures, then resizing, saving, and uploading them. Later, sometime.
A perfect day. Except for the cold coming back with a vengeance and settling in my chest, that is.
I turned out 3,095 words in Il Maestro e le Figlie di Coro, which is shaping up to be a novelette or novella and not a story at all. It stands at 5,281 words already.
I made beef stew, which has another half-hour to go in the slow cooker, and we’ll have it with the rest of the mashed potatoes seasoned with onion and sour cream that I made for feast following yesterday’s Samhain ritual.
I walked to the post office this morning to pick up a parcel from my mother, who sent me the two books she’d promised to lend me at Christmas, a selection of magazine clippings, and imported British chocolate bars as food for the soul now that the book has been handed in.
And on top of it all, I discovered that the set of speakers and subwoofer I’d been eyeing to replace those that died this weekend is on sale this week, at 50% off the regular price.
Yes, indeed. The day’s been a very good one.
So now it’s on to delicious stew, a soothing warm bath, and reading in bed for a while.
Well, that’s enough for today. The word count stands at 51,537 after adding and subtracting scads of words in different places, and the page count stands at 211. I think work hours clock in at around twelve, which is about twice as many as I usually work.
I’m going to have to go back at look at what I did with Chapter 8 tomorrow morning, because I can’t wrap my brain about where it was versus where it is now. There’s more, which is a good thing. I have no concept of how complete it is, or if the quality is up to my desired standard at the moment. And yet, after writing a bunch of new pages on various necessary subjects, I don’t seem to have crossed more than two things off my list of things to do in that chapter, which is mildly odd.
Also, there is a new ritual in Chapter 9.
Overall, there seem to be approximately four things left to do in Chapter 8 tomorrow, one of which is minor, one of which is expanding on something, two of which are from-the-ground-up. There needs to be another ritual in Chapter 9, possibly, although it may be left out if space doesn’t allow for it, and little finicky transitional things in both chapters that always take more time than they claim they will. Then it’s back to Chapter 2 to talk about the nature of rites of passage, that technical bit that I had to leave undone the other day because my brain was shutting down.
I think I’ve worked too late again. When I work too late, I can’t fall asleep for ages and ages because my brain needs time to shut down properly, and that in turn messes up my sleep pattern and yields nowhere near enough hours of sleep (I need around ten per night, usually). So I’m now going to go curl up in bed, drink a cup of warm milk with a drop or two of vanilla extract, listen to some Enya, and read a Brother Cadfael mystery — things that don’t ask my mind to do gymnastics to enjoy them.
After a tense day of work and an ill HRH at home on Friday, once I’d put Liam to bed I went out to the YUL NaNo launch party. I’m at the point where I can’t relax in my own home again, and while I wasn’t exactly in a social mood I knew that staying home would be worse than going out. So out I went, and found parking right around the corner from Kit‘s house, which I chose to interpret as a good omen. On the stairs I was warned by excited friends who care deeply about my emotional and mental well-being that “Wow, there’s over forty people up there, and you only know about half a dozen of them!”, which helped prepare me for the moment when I reached the top of the staircase and walked into a solid wall of voices and warmth. As Ceri said, you could physically feel the creative vibe from the enthusiasm of forty-odd writers of all ages crammed into Kit’s living room, dining room, and kitchen. Kit made me a blessed cup of jasmine tea, and I made a point of meeting some new participants as well as saying hello to some veterans. (As I am chronically shy, this meeting of new people was a big thing. Except it wasn’t, which is odd in and of itself, and probably indicates to how tired I am: I couldn’t muster the energy to be freaked out.) I stayed for an hour and a half and then went home feeling very glad I’d attended. Of course, I slept horribly, but that’s par for the course this week.
Saturday was band, sans vocalist, which was actually beneficial because we all got to focus on music and hear the fine points of what goes on with the other instruments, which we can’t do when our vocalist sings because we listen to her instead. Afterwards, I went out to the big local hardware emporium with t! for lightbulbs and wooden planks and screwdrivers and such (and I got the wrong lightbulbs, damn it all), which led to an adventure in trying to pack the car with an eight-foot wooden board and a cello too, all in horrible weather. I was still in a decent mood, all up until the last five minutes of my drive home when idiot drivers trying to get onto the bridge blocked the intersection around the corner from my house. Funny how it only takes one thing to break the camel’s back. The day went veering madly downhill from there for no particular reason. I shut down so firmly that I don’t remember eating or doing anything at all on Saturday night. Oh no, wait; I watched Topsy-Turvy then went to bed. (Note that I did not say that I went to sleep. I think I was awake for a good three hours before I dropped off for a bit.)
Liam woke up insanely early Sunday morning and since I’m still sleeping horribly I was very grumpy about it. Once up, though, and breakfast eaten, I worked on the book, and late Sunday afternoon we all went over to Matthieu’s second birthday party! It was Liam’s first attendance at a birthday party not his own, and he was terrific. He got to play with TAZ and Zoe, whom he knows, and he saw Matthieu again, and played with lots of Matthieu’s toys that he just loved. He said “plss” for bread and cheese, and loved his taste of cake, and I could hardly believe he was as grounded and well-behaved and perky as he was, seeing as his schedule had been wonky all day what with the waking early and the time change. HRH’s choice of gift for Matthieu — a Superman hockey jersey — was a great success (as all the other gifts were! ah, the joy of a two-year-old and his new gifts), and it was really a wonderful party. It seemed to be perfectly balanced in regards to number of people, temperament, gifts, and food. I left this party extremely glad that I’d attended as well.
I managed to sleep more than five hours last night, glory be, and not wake up more than once during the night. Today’s been an okay day so far, although that may have a lot to do with the sun that’s actually visible for the first time in days. Liam woke up at a more decent hour, though his internal clock says he’s waking at the regular time and the time change means it’s earlier than it used to be. After getting dressed and playing in his room for a bit he said “door plss” when he wanted out into the rest of the house, as he had accidentally shut the door. Then he asked for “kssp plss!’, banging on the pantry, so he had a heaping bowl of Rice Krispies for breakfast, followed by applesauce. It’s been a good morning.
I’m going to stop for lunch now.
I have my toasted pumpkin seeds! Thank you, Scarlet!
Oh, great. Now I’m craving toasted pumpkin seeds. What is with me today?
And on a completely different topic, my back has been crawling for about twenty-four hours now. Something’s coming.
Being virtuous and not buying soda at the grocery store is all well and good, but infuriating when later that day one develops a whopper of a craving for it.
Damn it all.