I want to fly like an eagle, to the sea

Friday. Rainy and cool.

Breakfast is rice crackers, cream cheese, applesauce. Waiting for my tea to brew.

I need some things at the grocery. The jury is still out whether I'll get them in town or in Belfast. There's a Reny's in Belfast, which may tip the scales.

So, yesterday was very strange. At one point, I was running a (minor) fever, and I just felt -- unwell. I cancelled out of ASL class, which was a bummer, but might as well not give whatever it was -- assuming it was giftable -- to my classmates.

This morning I feel -- OK. No fever. Not so exhausted I can barely drag my tail downstairs to perform one's duty to the cats.

So, that's all good.

I have a less-drafty schedule from BaltiCon Programming (The final schedule may happen next week. Maybe.). There is room on Saturday morning for a FOL breakfast at -- eh? 8? 8:30? 9? We will not be having a Stuffed Animal Tea, unless I can work something out with either the consuite or the Green Room, so, yanno, watch the skies.

In other news, the WIP now weighs in at 34,667 words, which looks like Holy Smoke! That woman wrote yesterday!, but is mostly cut 'n pasting/minor reworking from Salvage Right.

This is a matter of +/-3400 words, and will likely be less as soon as I get smart enough to figure out how to further streamline the needed action while providing Necessary Context. In a +\-100,000 word novel, this is Very Small Potatoes. Nonetheless, I anticipate hearing from the folks who howled their heads off, asserting that half of Mouse and Dragon was "nothing but" the ending of Scout's Progress, and they were thereby Cheated. I suspect that this unhappy anticipation is what has kept me from moving forward on this section, even though I've known from the start of the project that it's going to have to go down this way. I do know that most people will Get It, but I hate getting yelled at in email. Or at all, really.

And! The votes are in! I'll be foraging in town today.

What else? I'm still kind of reading the book club book, with a chaser of The Teller of Small Fortunes. It's been slow going because I've been so damned tired. I may really try to knock off early this evening and, oh, watch Dr. Who.

Oh, and I need to find someone to paint my garage. Actually, I think I probably need somebody to rebuild my garage, but I'm not sure how that might be made to happen. Well. Research. That'll be fun.

That appears to be the contents of my head, and my tea's almost gone.

What's going on with you, this fine Friday?

Today's blog post title brought to you by Mr. Steve Miller -- the other Steve Miller -- who notably wrote this song in 1976, when I'm told that music was Pure and nobody wrote about politics or social action in their books.  "Fly Like An Eagle"