It rained yesterday, and today is crisp and cool and the sky is blue with the typical Vegas mauve cast to it, but a deep color rather than the usual dusty one. Very nice. Also the finches have discovered the bird feeder that's been up since January, so I have had some company.
I'm contemplating printing out Scardown so I can read it at my leisure and get the first half of the book firmly into my head: this seems to be something I need to do during novels--stop, reread carefully, figure out where I am and what's happening. I suppose, given that I got over 4000 words yesterday, counting the John Henrys story, I'm entitled to a little break.
Those over-the-usual-wait rejects are starting to pile up. It always makes me neurotic. I hate being given reason to hope. "'T'were done, t'were best done quickly."
Nine hours of sleep last night too, and I almost feel human, although my leg threatened to Charlie horse again.
Oh, look, the finches are back. :-)