Today is the dog's birthday. This is not British slang for an extravagant mess of some sort; it is not the same thing as "dog's breakfast" but more so. This is the day the dog was born. Being the dog, she has no idea, but the pet supply store sent a coupon for a free toy, so I used it to get her a little elephant. Even though she doesn't need any more toys, really. She was filled with joy at its twisty little trunk. Gnaw, gnaw, wag, wag, gnaw. Also she got two walks for the second day in a row. It appears that sometimes being the dog is a really happy thing.
I'm in one of those phases where I see all the things I would like to get done in the next 5.3 seconds, with regards to writing. I have had too many jumps in too many areas since I last did a few things. There's several months' work there at least. But there's nothing to do but put my head down and just do the next thing.
And go make chocolate raspberry sauce, apparently.