A little work on the novel this morning. Long gone are the days when I demanded five pages of prose a day, or 15 pages of script. Now I take what I can get, and that's fine. The key is regularity, steadily one foot after the other. The pages add up, just more slowly than when I was younger.
In the mood to make fisherman's stew for dinner. Shopping for it is one of the fun parts.
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