So little to do, so much time. Wait, strike that, reverse it.
Home from Montreal. Tiredy tired tired. I can't tell yet whether I'm coming down with something or whether I'm just exhausted from the trip and have a dry throat from too much overprocessed hotel/airplane air. (Also the vertigo is not behaving itself.) Accordingly, I have just let myself drink the last cup of the cloudberry tisane. It was just the right thing, and the Nana's Peaches principle is in effect here: use the things we enjoy while we still enjoy them, before they've gone stale and wrong. It's like burning plot, only with tisane and peaches.
It was a really good Farthing Party and a really good Montreal trip. I am just completely out of girl.
I am working on the new thing. I opened the file because I was going to do some coherent outlining, but as I have no coherence I am writing dribbles that will connect up later to actual scenes. Finding Mel's voice, giving her somewhere to stand. As long as nobody gives her a lever until I have more energy, all should be well with that.