I'm sitting here and working on my computer by the light of a candle because the power's out. And I feel a lot better than I was earlier; I think it's the darkness and the flame. I should spend more of my late nights with candles, it does me good.

786 words finished chapter 9, and then I decided that the power wasn't coming back on any time soon.

The blank page intimidates me. I fear the blank page. It consumes me with doubt. I do not know how 10 begins.

I wandered up to [livejournal.com profile] teinedreugan holding a candle and informed him that what we really need is decorative oil lamps. We do, too. He thought I was hinting, but I was merely pointing out that we needed them. Also, lamps useful, as they're much easier to put down without going tippy tippy in circumstances where one needs both hands, such as going to the loo, which is why I had the candle in the first place (because the dark isn't a problem, but the dark in the room with the mirror most certainly is).

The night, rendered mightily silent by a tremendous lack of power in the city of Lynn, is split by the mating song of the car alarm. For . . . a . . . very . . . long . . . time.

Need to go to the grocery store this week and get honey and makings of pierogies for dinner on Friday so I have contribution to potluck at workshop Saturday. Honey not for pierogies. Honey for bread. Which has gotten one confirm on from participants in workshop, so will attempt to make.
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