Yesterday, I wrote 1,503 words on "Tupelo" and finished section five of the story. I think it has seventh section, but six may be very short. It also may be that today I will write all of six and begin seven. We'll see. I've had a good writing week. I the past five days, I've written 7,968 words.
Last night, after a dinner of meatloaf recycled into meatballs for a very spicy hot spaghetti sauce (Spooky's meatloaf makes be best meatballs), we watched Ron Howard's Inferno. Maybe I'm getting old – well, no, I'm definitely getting old – but it was quite watchable, more so than previous Dan Brown fiascoes. Also, much less loony than previous Dan Brown fiascoes. I see it has a 6.2 at IMDb. I might rate it slightly higher than that. Maybe a 6.5 or a 7. Felicity Jones was somewhat more energetic than she was in Rogue One (really, my only complaint with Rogue One was Jones' lack of what Art Carney called va-va-voom).
I slept much better than the night before. I dreamt of a book filled with mosasaur genera that have not yet been discovered. That's about as good as my dreams ever get.
And John Hurt died at age 77. One of my favorite actors ever. And now there are brilliant things he would have done that will go undone. But he had a good run, and he left us marvelous things. And that's all any of us may ever ask.
I have another photo from Spooky, who is brave and goes Outside. It was taken day before yesterday at the garage on Westminster where she took the car for its inspection. Do quarters still exist? I should hope so, but I rarely see actual money these days.
Resistance, Peace, and Compassion,
Aunt Beast