Halfway there, Livin’ on a Prayer

Whoa, we’re halfway there
Whoa oh, livin’ on a prayer
Take my hand, we’ll make it, I swear
Whoa oh, livin’ on a prayer

Everybody knows this song by Bon Jovi. And I can feel it in my head, body, and soul, and in each word I write. I am keeping a steady pace of writing around 1,700 words a day; the word count doesn’t give me a big cushion, but it doesn’t exhaust me either.

It was a beautiful November day, as we reached almost 60 F.

I got in my daily exercise, and meditation today. I calmed down a bit, but I am still on trail energy mixes, except for this evening. We went to Smyrna Bar to deliver our new peach spirit by Moravian Sons Distillery based in Lowell, MI. So, I ordered Halfway to Cuba, a pulled pork sandwich with pickles and mustard which was delicious. The owners are going completely local. Yes! Way to go.

Home

Today was also the opening day of the firearm hunting season, so I could hear gunshots as soon as the sun came up. The hunting season makes me nervous walking on the trail, especially because I can’t find my orange hat.

Keep it up, Wrimos. We’re halfway there.

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