It’s time to roll up my sleeves and get back to my book.
Yesterday I managed to produce a new scene, slowed down only a bit by a fifteen-minute Google foray into the types of chickens (now I think I need to have a fluffy white Silkie following me around the condo). My main character should be on her way next door to the home of the murder victim, but my morning’s already gone.
Instead, I’ve made two omelets, done one crossword, read yesterday’s paper, taken a shower, changed the bed, done three loads of wash, refilled the soap jug from the big one in the garage, cleaned and refilled the hummingbird feeder (inhabited by a family of drowned ants), weeded a bit while I was outside, then sprinkled anti-ant pellets in the garden.
With my second giant cup of tea by my side, I guess I have to get started.
Of course, I do need to post this first. . . .