And on Tuesday . . .

Tuesday. Sunny and cold. Haven't gotten the trash out yet, but I've got time.

There have been at least a dozen rescue vehicles going screaming down the road in the last ten minutes, all heading south, and now it's quiet. Too quiet.

. . . yeah.

The book club met yesterday afternoon at Holy Cannoli and engaged in a wide-ranging discussion, some of it . . . and there goes another one, the second attack wagon I've seen . . . some of it, as I was saying, about Theo of Golden, which found a more appreciative audience among the other two-thirds of the gathered readers than it found with me. Next book: A Gentleman in Moscow by Amor Towles.

I finished formatting the Fey Duology yesterday. This does not mean it's ready for release, but that it's formatted. Formatting is a looooonnnngggg job, but not the only job. I'll be getting back to the tasks remaining on the road to publication, eh. Thursday-ish.

Today? Is chores. I have two numbers for folks who fix dishwashers, so I'll be making phone calls, and washing dishes, and changing out cat fountains. Also need to sit with Googlemaps and make sure I have my directions for Northern Solstice Alpaca Farm, since I'm not just going out for a ride, and happen to go by the alpacas, which is a handy place to pull over and take in the view.

This evening is craft group. Tomorrow morning, as above, the Great Alpaca-ing.

But, first? Breakfast. There must be something in this house for breakfast...

What did you have for breakfast?