Crazy dreams lately. I'm blaming the Tiger Balm I've been rubbing on my back. The most amusing one involved the local bookstore diversifying into a cannabis distribution center.
On the writing front, I jotted down some long-hand ideas for the Wordos Holiday reading coming up in about ten days. We're all going to try to write on the same theme; in the past the themes have diversified into a swarm of ideas. I've also made a flash submission to a market; I'm trying something different with the flash piece and I'll be interested to see how far it gets through the submission process.
Mark's away on a business trip. I'm hoping that he gets back before the predicted Winter Storm hits so he doesn't have to travel on slippery roads surrounded by Oregonians who don't know how to drive in snow and ice.
I've been easing in to the Christmas season with a stray carol here or there. I tend to like old-style carols with krumhorns, boy sopranos, Latin verses, finger cymbals, Maddie Prior, bag-pipes, and Annie Lennox. This isn't Mark's favorite combination, which makes the easing into things easier.
No gym visits; I keep waiting for my sore bits to stop feeling so sore and they aren't obliging.