Somewhere I read that getting anywhere takes a million baby steps. Right now, with Come the Morning due to publish in a week, most “steps” should be done But they’re not, not even close.

Am I getting older? Tireder? Lazier? I don’t know.

Looking back I must have already taken a billion baby steps. That should be enough, why more? she whines. “Well, Jeannie,” my mother’s voice hums in my head, “that’s the way it goes.” She was always the sage; I wonder if Mom ever got overwhelmed like her daughter does. Probably, but if so, she hid it well.

I got up this morning, worked on some pressing details, worked on more, then some more. Went to lunch, came back and had ten (or was it a hundred?) more to go.

This will surely end. knock wood, and when it does you’ll likely see fireworks from my neck of the woods.