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All of that vast and empty silent night.
Jan. 16th, 2010 12:33 amJanuary 15, 2010 Progress Notes:
"Stay"
Words today: 400.
Words total: 1650.
Reason for stopping: I've been off the wagon for a week, and it was a steady limp to a respectable wordcount.
Darling du Jour: "That's a shame," Johnny Red said evenly, in a way someone else might have thought idle.
Mean Things: A serious Arctic winter storm; wendigoes, wendigoes, and wendigoes.
Research Roundup: Dene family names.
Books in progress: Dashiell Hammett, The Dain Curse, The Glass Key, and Selected Stories.
The glamour: That market trip, which is rife with foodporn material; kitchen-cleaning; some workshop work and general pruning of e-mail. And I made a cinnamon bread, which is looking suspiciously small and unrisey. I think I put too much salt in. I guess it's now nomming bread and tomorrow I'll have to make sandwich bread.
For something of such simple concept, this story is already stretching itself suspiciously long. I do not approve. If this trend keeps up, I'm going to accuse![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
msagara of having sneezed on me or something.
Acquiring good cheese and pierogies (and shrimp and dolmades and giant pomegranates and strawberries and rice vinegar and basil and little white potatoes and and and) at St. Lawrence was a definite improvement on the mood front. My kitchen is full of Wonderful Things (tm) again. I am plotting fettucine with shrimp and chopped red chilies and oyster mushrooms and sundried tomatoes for my dinner tomorrow and an interesting veggie-and-asiago-and-wilted-spinach omelette for my lunch, and just thinking about that is extremely soothing.
Knitting now, and an episode of Full Metal Challenge, and then bed. So I can get one step closer to my omelette.
"Stay"
Words today: 400.
Words total: 1650.
Reason for stopping: I've been off the wagon for a week, and it was a steady limp to a respectable wordcount.
Darling du Jour: "That's a shame," Johnny Red said evenly, in a way someone else might have thought idle.
Mean Things: A serious Arctic winter storm; wendigoes, wendigoes, and wendigoes.
Research Roundup: Dene family names.
Books in progress: Dashiell Hammett, The Dain Curse, The Glass Key, and Selected Stories.
The glamour: That market trip, which is rife with foodporn material; kitchen-cleaning; some workshop work and general pruning of e-mail. And I made a cinnamon bread, which is looking suspiciously small and unrisey. I think I put too much salt in. I guess it's now nomming bread and tomorrow I'll have to make sandwich bread.
For something of such simple concept, this story is already stretching itself suspiciously long. I do not approve. If this trend keeps up, I'm going to accuse
msagara of having sneezed on me or something.Acquiring good cheese and pierogies (and shrimp and dolmades and giant pomegranates and strawberries and rice vinegar and basil and little white potatoes and and and) at St. Lawrence was a definite improvement on the mood front. My kitchen is full of Wonderful Things (tm) again. I am plotting fettucine with shrimp and chopped red chilies and oyster mushrooms and sundried tomatoes for my dinner tomorrow and an interesting veggie-and-asiago-and-wilted-spinach omelette for my lunch, and just thinking about that is extremely soothing.
Knitting now, and an episode of Full Metal Challenge, and then bed. So I can get one step closer to my omelette.
