Sorry. Trying to finish up a project before I start sweating with Sven on Monday. It’s a historical western, a little darker than Taming Eliza Jane and Becoming Miss Becky, with some action thrown in.
Still plugging away at night on DG3. I know it’s taking me a little while, but I won’t let it go until it’s the book I want it to be for me and for my readers. It’s also hard keeping up that level of intensity, so I have to have other things to tinker with, too.
It’s not easy getting things done when my office is in the living room and there’s pounding and sawing and banging going on just on the other side of the plastic curtain, but I shall persevere.
Oh, and I’d like to give a big, old Chuck Norris roundhouse kick to whoever invented trick-or-treating. Three pounds I’ve gained this week. Dammit.
I threw our leftover candy away. Don’t tell the husband or kids. :groucho:
I bought a billion baked goods from the Mennonite Ladies today at the auction. I hid on the bed of a truck being auctioned by the bank and gorged. The Mennonite Ladies are bad for my thighs.
I’ve never had baked goods from Mennonite Ladies. I think they’d be very bad for my thighs, too.
And we bought extra candy because we were down to giving out the crappy cheap stuff at the bottom of the bowl last year. The majority of the trick-or-treaters went elsewhere (maybe because they were getting the crappy cheap stuff at the bottom of the bowl) and we ended up with a bunch left over.
Irony = neither of the boys is a big candy eater and likes the idea more than the eating.
Result = the husband and I have been filching candy on a steady basis—riding a sugar high since Halloween—and we haven’t even gotten through our leftovers yet. There’s still SK’s entire haul to get through.