This morning: up early, start a batch of bread, do laundry, prep a batch of household items for a Ukrainian family new to Canada, including a heavy couch that promised to be a hassle. Everything went according to plan, better than, really. Even the couch move went well.
This afternoon: The new batch of flour is strangely weak, I finished none of the pieces I planned to work on, my Scrivener short story file has developed some concerning hiccups, and (for reasons too pedestrian to get into) I was recently doused in chicken stock.
Ah well! Such is the way of things.
The sun is bright, the birds sing, and a monarch butterfly has adopted one of the pine trees out back. Life is good.
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J.R. Johnson 
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