Spring is sprung
The grass is riz
I wonder where the boidies is?
(poet unknown)
The only thing harder than writing while riding a bicycle with no hands, is writing with an almost three-year-old in the house. I've spent a large portion of the morning writing a mere two pages. I've already written most of the story by hand, and have been simply trying to put it into the Word document with a few changes. This daily childcare is a temporary situation, but I've learned not to lose momentum with my writing. I'm old and don't have the time to spend warming up my vintage cranium these days.
It's not quite noon but the sun has finally made an appearance. We're expecting some rain sometime soon. I've promised my little nieta she can take her umbrella out into the rain should it actually happen.
We've already filled the bird bath and the feeders, and have done a lot of jobs around the house that have nothing to do with writing. I'm used to multi-tasking, just not in two-minute increments.
The grass is riz
I wonder where the boidies is?
(poet unknown)
The only thing harder than writing while riding a bicycle with no hands, is writing with an almost three-year-old in the house. I've spent a large portion of the morning writing a mere two pages. I've already written most of the story by hand, and have been simply trying to put it into the Word document with a few changes. This daily childcare is a temporary situation, but I've learned not to lose momentum with my writing. I'm old and don't have the time to spend warming up my vintage cranium these days.
It's not quite noon but the sun has finally made an appearance. We're expecting some rain sometime soon. I've promised my little nieta she can take her umbrella out into the rain should it actually happen.
We've already filled the bird bath and the feeders, and have done a lot of jobs around the house that have nothing to do with writing. I'm used to multi-tasking, just not in two-minute increments.
The most boring ride ever and it cost 50 cents.
We still find time to turn the cat into a bumblebee.
LOVE the poem! Can't agree more about the impossibility of writing with kiddos circling.
ReplyDeleteHow the heck did you get butterfly wings on that cat without getting shredded?
And I can't believe Spidey hogged the steering wheel like that. Superheroes can be so self-important.
The steering wheel was a deal breaker. What an ego that guy has.
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