Over 3,300 words.  Tired.  Rain.  Bed, wanted.  No more writing.  But I can’t stop.  But I have to.  More volume the rain now.  And me, drained.  Xmas cards on the table being send to everyone we know.  Alice’s project.  And Jack, not yet pulled from sleep by this horrible “storm” they predicted.  It better not wake my little Artist.  We have to be on time tomorrow.