We're all okay, until the day we're not

The week in review:

I don't feel like I accomplished a great deal, at least from a tangible perspective. (In other words, you can't tell I've done much just by looking at the state of my house. Although honestly, just keeping dishes and laundry caught up is a feat unto itself. And the summer version of grocery shopping, oh God.) But I did get my closet cleaned out. And my piano bench, which was just about as cluttered. And I figured out a couple more details about how I might like to set up the after school writing club(s) I might like to set up next school year. And while my original plan was to look over some short fiction and see what could be done with it, my fictional version of Tenskwatawa* popped his head into my brain and informed me that he knew how to fix Crowmaker. Or at least part of it. I didn't keep track of word count, but I did some fiddling with his ideas, and they seem to be working. I guess they didn't call him The Prophet for nothing.

 As for the week ahead... Y'know, I don't know. Obviously, I have several writing-related things I could work on. And a list of household stuff that we could do. But as to exactly what we'll do and when? I think we'll just play it by ear. Chill, Lori. It's summer.

*You can Google to get a basic idea who he was, but after the research I've done on him, his brother, and that historical period in general, I can only add that you should take everything you read online with a grain of salt. It's also highly likely that I have such a solid vision of my fictional version of the man that even reading proven facts might cause me to grind my teeth if they didn't match up with what MY Tens is like. And of course there's always the "history is written by the victors" aspect, too.