Could be Sunday

I believe it may be Sunday but don't hold me to it. Sunny and said to be warm today.

First load of laundry is in. After my few moments here with the happy light and Firefly deciding whether or not she'll be on my lap, I shall eat a carton of skyr, fill my thermos with tea and go back to Steve's office to enter corrections into Kin Right. I hope to have that part done today.

I attach photographs to this letter. It's been kind of a chaosy zoomy day here at the cat farm so far.

Hope everyone's doing well.

Dictated to my phone
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So. That was a long day, but! Kin Right, the book, is done. Says me. It weighs just about 138,000 words and 632 manuscript pages.

I. Am. Fried.

But in a good way.

Tomorrow, I'll take a whack at straightening out the Working Weird Word list so it can be comprehensible to people who Aren't Me. Tonight, I'm up for emptying the dishwasher, making some rice so I have something to eat this evening, and putting away the laundry that's on my bed so I have someplace to sleep.

Tomorrow, according to the weatherbeans, it will be SIXTY DEGREES F here in Central Maine, crashing to, oh, 34F on Tuesday.

Ahem.

Weather gods? A word, if you please. Make up your minds, 'k? Thx.

How's everybody holding up?