Sunday night

It's 9:45 pm. I am semi-caught up on the NaNoWriMo world. 22,000 plus words. Sadly, I can't remember the exact number and I'm too whipped to go look it up again. Actually, I think it's 23,000 yeh, yeh, that's it. I want to get to 30,000 words by Wednesday. That was the suggested number by the little pep talk email sent 'round by Chris Bay, the organizer of NaNoWriMo.

Since I'm too lazy to do the actual math, I'm just accepting that 30,000 is key. The good news is that I have at least got my main character out of the Santa Fe hospital. She has no choice now but to be laid up and write her book. She has a broken leg that she can't put any weight on and a wonderful benefactor who has provided a nurse and her own New Mexican casita. Talk about projecting one's own fantasies...well, except for the nurse and the broken leg part. But I do love New Mexico....

I seem to have slid into quite a lot of deadlines and writing projects over this next week. The trick will be if I can move my neck at all by the time this is all over. I do have the name of a great physiotherapist that can do miracles in 30 minutes. I'm sure this neck and shoulders can provide a great challenge for her. Laptops, crappy seating arrangements and ridiculous word count goals are starting to add up. Saturday morning yoga is not enough to undo the week of abuse it seems.

I think ibuprofen is one of the world's wonders. I plan on getting a couple of those mommy's little helpers and propping myself into bed with the wonderful Tell It Slant book. I'm slowly working my way through it, between my other books.

The veal shanks are thawing while I sit here and by tomorrow morning Kevin will be prepping them for our dinner of shanks and lentils tomorrow night. I'm guessing Mr. Wine Geek has already figured out the appropriate red for the occasion.

It's a calm and crisp night outside the deck. The Molson brewery digital sign scrolling across on its forever spin. Can't quite read it, though I probably could if I got off the sofa and stood on the deck. But why?

Instead, I will sign off. Give my fingers a break. I'm looking forward to the week. I was asked on Friday to do the Shop with a Chef column and will be checking out the chef of Lolita's and their other Mexican eatery on Commercial Drive called Julio and me...or something like that. Since Mexico is one of my favourite places on the planet, I'm quite looking forward to the assignment.

Adios, Muchachos.

NaNoWriMo

Oh my. I'm feeling rather daunted by this NaNoWriMo thing. I'm at 11,472 words and I need to hit 15,003 tonight to be on goal for the 50,000 word finish at the end of the month.

I have lots of reasons why I really don't have time for this. And truly? I don't have time for this. I should be doing the two assignments that are do by November 20th. I should read my book, Three Cups of Tea, for our November 15th book club and I should be working on my memoir.

And what do I chose to do? Write a totally crap novel where the damned characters can't seem to get themselves out of a Santa Fe coffeshop, called...wait for it.
Espressorito.

Uh Huh. It seems a gay couple got together, one a swarthy, thickset Mexican named Juan (who also happens to make kickass Mexican food) and his lover Gianni who is a barista extraordinare and a pastry chef. Naturally, they open an espresso bar, Mexican eatery and saddlery. Forgot to mention that Juan is a true cowboy and leather worker. Of course. And they aren't even the main characters.

I must say that one of the reasons the woman Colette and her new friend David can't leave the place is because it's the perfect coffee shop/cafe that I would never leave either. Juan and Gianni post questions on the bulletin board and in the Santa Fe Herald asking people to come discuss them every Saturday afternoon. People of every background come out of the woodwork so that you have blue-haired pierced-up punks with purple hair discussing this stuff with soccer moms. What's not to love? So, it is a salon pondering existential questions. You can see why I can't get them to leave.

Apparently, this blog is also a way to avoid getting to my goal. Onward. Etc.