Today I woke up with bad eyes, but spent several hours watching the coverage of President Gordon B. Hinckley's funeral anyway. I cried several times. I don't know if tears are healing or hurtful to eye lacerations, but there was not a thing I could do to hold them back. I love that man so much.
Now I'm working on putting chapter divisions into my novel. I can't help myself from editing and re-writing as I go. I haven't visited the first part of this book for several months, and now I can see ways to tidy up a place or two. Funny, huh?
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