sore
Tea today: Upton's Young Hyson
Teacup today: my great-grandmother's china.
1,000 words before bed last night. Still having a heck of a time falling asleep, despite resuming the exercise schedule (take that, head full of green cement!) but once I was down I went down hard.
There's yoga here in a minute (though the dog has his head on my feet, making me reluctant to get up), then more work on the novella that is not named "REZ," then a dogwalk and some guitar practice and math, then more writing. Then maybe some Farscape or Castle. We're re-entering our life, in other words. The marshalls should be along any moment.
World: still melting. Yay! Rivers in flood all over the damned place, but this happens. Might be one of the years East Hartford Main Street goes under water, though. There's a lot of water out there.
Hands are still sore from yesterday, and I scraped hell out of my right hand knuckled in a corner.
soloadventure wanted photos of the cupboard. I don't actually have a single cup storage area, and some are currently in use/in TBRE's car (probably rather a lot of them)/in the dishwasher. So it goes. But here's part of the collection:
That pretty much spoils any surprises, I guess.
No, the wine glasses don't match either.
