Ugh. Writing was a struggle yesterday. I found a myriad of things to keep me away from the desk. Hauling wood, washing dishes, decorating the fake tree at the lake, visiting the neighbor for coffee, making a poster, walking Daisy. Finally, fretting about the time, I sat down and was visited by thugs carrying guns, hallucinogenic drugs, mountains outside of Denver, old beater cars driving on the interstate highways, and sweatshirts that smelled like dog. Where does this stuff come from?
How many action photos of Daisy do you have? She always seems poised for adventure, but like her mistress, hesitant to pull the trigger...hee-hee
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