The day that was...

The drive was lovely, breakfast was huge, and the visit was much needed.

Writing happened, which was delightful. I started a new story as an exercise in description, as I'm really bad at narrative description. It's going well, if entirely spontaneously. I have no idea who I'm writing about or what's going to happen. I'm just taking notes, which is wonderful to do. It's been years since I just put words down. It's actually taking some work not to leap ahead and guide thing, and as this is an exercise I'm really trying to just let it be and not impose any structure, plot, or expectations on it. Whatever it is.

I'm going for a float on Thursday morning and I think it'll be work to keep my mind off of this one and onto one of the stories that actually needs some effort to get it under control.