I've been working on the novel. I am on the typing it in part. I've gotten to the point where the plot began working for me. The chapter length went from 6-7 hand written pages to 20-30, and sometimes 40 pages. (I used to hate writing those long chapers when I'd been writing them for two weeks.)
Tonight was leftover Cabbage and Corned Beef. The cabbage was still, well, cabbage, but better as leftovers. The corned been was a little worse for wear.
I am wrestling with my relationship with the weather. I am becoming something of a grubmler about the cold and the snow. Is that what I want? Do I really with to approach the weather this way? Or do I just not like the cold? Things to ponder on my head.
Mom's 70th birthday is this weekend.