Hug a hobbit, shave your toes, waltz with a wizard (of the Gandalf flavor, unless you like living dangerously) all in celebration of the birth of one of my all-time favoritist authors: Professor John Ronald Reuel Tolkien (1892-1973). Get into the spirit of the day by toasting the old dear. (One of the best literary moments of my life was when we visited the Botanic Garden in Oxford, England and I got to hug his tree, the one that inspired his Ents. Here’s another shot. Ah, bliss.)
I took my pick-axe to the plot knot yesterday and am happy to report that the sucker is gone. BH and I went to the gym late in the day and I took out my frustrations on the treadmill. Felt much better after that. Smelled better after a long, hot shower. BH cooked shrimp with spinach and garlic and a massive side dish of broccoli. Read more poetry before bed, so it wound up being an excellent day.
Woke up this morning at 1am convinced that it was 6 and I could get back to work. The moon was high and fat and it bewitched me to a secret place where I lay the rest of the night, thinking of my main character and worrying about her.
By bedtime tonight I hope to have straightened out all the little knots and inconsistencies in Part I of the WIP. That means the rest of the month (after I return from this weekend’s retreat) I can focus on Part II.
I am still waiting for snow. I live in the Buckle of The Snow Belt and it is supposed to get up to 55 degrees today. I am not amused.