January 4th, 2015

ruffian

if they want to kiss my ass well they better make it fast, 'cos we're all gonna die someday

All in all, a very satisfactory morning.

Got up, had coffee with the family and batwrangler, saw them off to a dog show. I shoveled and sanded the walk and what passes for a driveway around here, because even though it's going to rain all day and get into the fifties this afternoon, those ice berms the plow leaves don't melt in a day--and we're next door to the church, and it's Sunday, and people do walk. Or park on the side of the road and have to traipse around the Common to get there. While shoveling, I passed the time of day with dogwalkers and the organist for the OTHER church, which is across the Common. (The Catholics are down the block and around the corner. Their sidewalks are their own problem.)

We talked about the weathr, of course.

Anyway, shoveling and sanding is a matter of civic obligation in New England--possibly almost a sacred duty--and if I take the dog for a walk later I won't be able to bitch about others not shoveling if I haven't, myself.

As my reward, since (despite the light drizzle) it was actually very nice out--35 degrees and sort of pleasantly Marchlike--I betook myself down to the local Cumberland Farms for a peppermint hot cocoa while they're still in season. (I hadn't had one yet this year.) And anyway, I had a free fountain drink from the gas club. It's a little more than a half-mile walk there and back again, and very pleasant except where people hadn't shoveled yet. ;) )

Cumberland Farms is convenience store that's another beloved Yankee institution, sort of like Dunkin Donuts. Except they have gas as well as reliably clean bathrooms and decent coffee, and they're all open 24 hours. (The real reason for the Yankee cult of Dunkies: long distance driving pitstops.)

Going and coming and at the store, I counted no fewer than six conversations with neighbors. Every single one was about the weather.

It's a good thing it's so interesting here, or Yankees would have nothing to talk about.

I got back home just as the church carillon was starting. And hey, they fixed the speakers!

Now it's time for some breakfast and some work. 2015 had better continue cooperating on the wordcount, is all I can say, because I did the math yesterday and I need to write somewhere north of 300,000 words this year in order to make my deadlines.

Okay, so, that's an average of a thousand words a day, with time off for conventions and good behavior. Pretty doable, really.

And on that note--to the Batmobile!
spies mfu goodliest outside napoleon

and there they made their solemn oath concerning barleycorn

"One thing you could say for the Council of Elders: it wasn't a misnomer."

Snarky old lady saint with no fucks to give is the best protag. And I am really enjoying the opportunity to write some unabashed Generic Fantasy Role-Playing Universe Satirical Fanfic. Yes.

1800 words, and I am having fun.

Tea today is Upton's Mélange de Chamonix. Teacup is Queen Anne Black Magic.