A Bridge in Bruges, Lucien Levy Dhurmer
12,132. Read T.S. Eliot’s poem, “Preludes”; its melancholy winter images reminds me of the endless redundancies of daily life in the urban world.
This weekend is all about writing. I’m going to work on the short story, “A Haunting of Roses”, the farm wife story, which is in notes and has been for a long time, and “Trail of Shadows.” I’m up early so I can get stuff done. I’ve prepared the chicken breasts with olive oil, fresh sliced garlic, seasoned salt, ground peppercorns, and thyme cut from my pot garden. It’s marinating in the fridge. I’ve got to juice the carrots, and I must put my poor broken bed back together. I really should reassemble it this weekend. It’s bothersome to sleep on the mattress flat on the floor between the frame with the headboard in pieces against the wall.
This morning is cool and silver, but I imagine it’ll be hot and humid later. Southern California humidity doesn’t bother me; it’s nothing compared to Louisiana.
Time to get to work.
penpanther 
I hope you had a productive day and enjoyed your delicious dinner! I have had a pretty good weekend, posted a new snippet on my blog yesterday. Worked a bit today at rearranging some other scenes (hope they work!) Was a bit stuck as to what to put in next (transitions always bog me down). But after a brisk walk on the sea-wall it all came to me. Let’s hope it works!
Hi, Wynn, hope so! Happy writing, d!