Today was a little bit more relaxing than yesterday. Mostly, today, we puttered. We did laundry. We lounged around and read books. We poked at the cats. We ate leftover apple butter cinnamon rolls that I made yesterday morning (because what else am I supposed to do when two jars of apple butter don’t seal and are now sitting in the fridge?). I dragged out the pretzel dough I’d put in the refrigerator on Friday and we rolled those out, and then ate several, straight from the oven, for lunch.

It was nice and relaxing, except for the fact that we just were not getting any writing done. So at about 4, we loaded up our laptops and then drove from coffee shop to coffee shop until we found one that had open tables near an electric outlet (because my giant, ancient laptop no longer reliably holds a charge). I don’t know why it is that we are both having such a hard time getting writing done at home, but I suppose a cup of peppermint hot chocolate is a small price to pay for lurking at a coffee shop if that is what it takes to get the brain rolling.

And now we are back home, to a house that is full of wonderful smells. There is the faint lingering aroma of the pretzels baked earlier this afternoon, and when we got back from the coffee shop I put together a huge batch of meatballs with ground turkey and spinach and cheese, while Richard assembled a pair of tuna pies. With all the cooking and baking I did on Friday, the freezer and the refrigerator are now nicely stocked with enough to get us through the next week without requiring any trips to restaurants or grocery stores. Hopefully that will leave the evenings wide open for more writing. November is starting to feel like a very, very long month.

Nanowrimo: 25,096 words, which means I’m halfway there! Now if I could just managed to stop randomly switching between past and present tense when typing, I’d be all set.