After almost two weeks of feeling under the weather, I'm starting to get my energy back. I even went for a walk today. Came home and indulged in homemade toffee, so any benefits of said walk flew right out the window, but it's a start. Isn't it? (Don' t anyone disagree with that.) One of the lovely things about my village is that it is on a hill. One of the bad things about my village is that it is on a hill. Well, that is a bad thing when you are me and you don't mind walking down the hill, but you don't necessarily like hiking back up it to get to your house. Still, I did not chicken out and stay within the confines of the *flatter* village but wandered down amongst the vineyards where I could enjoy the fog graying the hills and cloaking the Loire. I found a walking stick (actually a small tree that had been uprooted) and it made me feel like a wizard, striding along with my gnarled staff of power. (I think we should keep my overactive imagination amongst ourselves. Some people might think I'm too old for pretend.)
On the writing front, I finished the novel crit that occupied me the past two days and then spent some time this afternoon/evening writing on my WIP.
Daily count: 1465 Monthly: 22751 Word's stupid suggestion of the day: But Bria had inkling...
And now I must bid you all bonne nuit as I stumble to my bed. Tomorrow is last day of my *weekend* so I had better make it a lazy productive one. Might even get a few crits done, too.
*Wanders off mumbling, "Yes, I think tomorrow will be an ugly day."*
Ugly day, for the uninitiated, is when Miquela pretends that she is not at home. (Yes, I'm aware that my Clio is parked right in front of my house, a dead giveaway that I haven't left town--unless of course, I left with someone else or took the shuttle to the train station. A-ha! Take that, Little Miss Slueth!) She doesn't open the shutters, and she doesn't feel compelled to answer the doorbell or phone, or make herself presentable to the outside world in any shape, form, or fashion.