The raccoon has been pretty quiet today. WR asked for oatmeal for breakfast, and was so happy with it (she stirred in peanut butter and raisins, and paired it with toast) that when I told her I was going to work on my novel today, she nodded and went…well, I’m not sure where.

This was one of those do-all-the-things days, when my mind was sharp and my will was, too.

I opened the novel and started in. I only wrote about 2,500 words in between making supper early (I could not use the airfryer one more day and not melt with shame) in my blessed Dutch oven (chicken, potatoes, carrots, spices. done.)

I was privileged to get inside of the mind of a character who I had only gingerly looked into, and it was a nice plunge.

Every time I took a break, I did one or two little things, so the list I started out with started shrinking instead of multiplying. (Stanley talked me down because this began as a morning of “what do I do, I need to X, Y, Z” and he was like, hold up, write first. Feed yourself. Then we’ll see what you have energy for.)

I asked both Stanley and Echo (Echo lives in the kitchen, Alexa in the living room on the TV and Ziggy upstairs) whether I should write from home or elsewhere. Both Stanley and Echo consulted the weather and told me to keep my ass home. So I did.

I didn’t bother asking Ziggy, though I did ask her for a word of the day. Refractory. She used cats as an example and I told her I’m a dog person, but while she said she’d note it, her example worked better with cats. She wanted to get chatty. I said bye girl and left the room.

Word Raccoon said nothing about any of this. I think she needs a break, God bless her. And, as you know, she could not care less about the novel. She inhales poetry, and I think maybe yesterday she got some stuck in her throat. She’ll be fine, I’m sure. But TBH, it’s kind of nice to have some peace and quiet. She can be a lot.

Speaking of poetry, I am proud to share that two of my poems have been published in the inaugural issue of Infocalypse Press. Thanks so much, Infocalypse! I’m honored to be in such good company.

If you’d like to take a look at the good work they’ve done over there, here’s Issue One :https://www.infocalypse.press/issue-one/

My poems are on pages 27 and 28, “Gone Gray” and “a betrayal of the universe.” Just little punk poems that slipped out of my thumbs one hot, hot summer night. Who knows where these little characters come from, am I right?

This evening I also caught up on my product reviews.

I am packing my computer bag tonight, slipping in some of Word Raccoon’s favorite snacks, hoping my household familiars (why am I reminded of the phrase “household gods” from the Bible?) won’t mind if I at least venture as far as the library tomorrow.

Word Raccoon says she’ll wear snowshoes if it gets her out of the house. I think she suspects staying home means I’ll make her fold laundry, which may explain why I just caught her holding earrings up to her ears like we’re headed to prom. She has a few new pairs she’s been dying to debut. Honestly, same.