This won't end well.
But I got to type antepenultimate, and how often does that happen?
I wrote 3000 words today, and got them done in time to take the dog out for a leisurely sunset run, since it got above 20 degrees and all. Then I ate a lot of curry and decided to spend my dinner carbs on a cocktail rather than rice. It consisted of 1 part Captain Morgan's Parrot Bay coconut rum, 1 part pomegranate liqueur, 2 parts unsweetened 100% cranberry juice, .5 part Rose's sweetened lime juice (that's Rose's lime cordial for you UK types), and the juice of half a fresh lime. Shaken over ice and consumed rather quickly, with a pinch of crushed reds sprinkled on top and a lime wedge.
I am calling it a Captain Kidd, because what else do you call a piratical drink made with cranberries if not naming it after New England's best known and most controversial privateer?
There are photos.
Since my brain is now dribbling out my ears (this is more book- than alcohol- related. Alas, the drink was four hours ago.), you get photos rather than sense.
Here's where the magic happens:
Here's a dog with a teddy bear:
And here are two scenes from our run: