Yesterday morning, I slept until 8 a.m. I haven’t done that since college.
Yesterday morning, I wrote up in my room watching the deer eat the corn I’d thrown out for them.
Yesterday, I went to a critique group meeting where inspiration and laughter flowed like the pumpkin spiced coffee clutched in the mittens of Texans who don’t like cold around us.
Yesterday, I made a pie out of lard crust and thought I destroyed it. It was the best pie I ever made.
Yesterday, I roasted a chicken with out it being raw in the middle and burnt on the edges. Ben said it was the best chicken I ever made. He asked for seconds. He never asks for seconds.
Ever since moving here, I get a lot more writing done, but not as much work. I take a lot of walks, but I don’t fuss over things like I used to.
It’s different out here.
Stay tuned, Invisible Friends! A new story mañana!