Writing, Writing, Writing
So here I am in Indiana after taking planes, trains, and automobiles yesterday. And yes, when the train passed through Gary, Indiana, I did sing, not caring that the guy next to me got up and changed seats. Here I am with some of the Misfits, and there has been food, laughter, and drink. And more food. Mich makes a mean pico de guac. We've been relaxed. So has my stomach. Relaxed right over my jeans.
But I'm getting some writing done. They gave me a shove on a short story I needed, and after I recovered from the cold, algae-filled pond water (when they push, they really push), I ticked the keyboard.
And Phil's been in the kitchen with Dinah cooking (which I'm thankful for both because he's a good cook and because when he cooks, the kitchen warms up, and my, but it's chilly up here).
Tomorrow I go into Chicago for the rest of the week. Heck, maybe I'll even post pictures. But don't get your hopes up.
4 comments:
Ok, so who's Dinah and why's my husband in the kitchen with her?
I don't have the balls to write the comment I was going to write here. So I'll save it for later. HA!
But I will say that it sounds like a fun time was had by all. I actually wrote this weekend too. One page but still. It was something. Rather wish I could've been there seeing as how you had honkin' huge martinis and all.
someone's in the kitchen with Dinah... strummin' on the old banjo
Give my love to Minerva!
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