So you think being a writer is all about the fun stuff, right? (Ha!) For most of us, it’s more because we’re driven to write. In my case, not only am I driven to write, I have to because it’s
The birthday Hubster (yesterday).
Hubby and I went out to Smokey Bones for his birthday lunch yesterday. He got a free Leaning Tower of Chocolate cake (should be called the Leaning Tower of Cardiac Arrest and Ass Fat cake…). The
Thursday weather briefing…
Not just punched, but cunt-punched right in the goddamned taco, I swear to the Goddess I will. Apparently, Florida has gotten drunk and moved to Michigan. Tomorrow, we are facing highs only in the 50’s, which I know doesn’t sound
Fibromyalgia Talk: Astaxanthin
(For my other articles on fibromyalgia and related topics click here.) So I was watching Dirty Jobs with my son last week while he was home and Mike Rowe did an episode in Hawaii about a plant that produced something
Bathroom Saga, part something or other…
Remember the saga from December when my dad had to replace my sixty-year-old toilet and a section of flooring? Since then, my dining room table has been buried under the mountain of (metaphorical) crap that usually resides on the shelving
Caution: Slow cooking ahead…
Conversation held in my kitchen this morning: Hubby: (Stirring stuff in the Crock Pot.) Why isn’t this getting hot? Me: Is it plugged in? Hubby: Yes. Me: Is it turned on?
BDSM: Switches and debunking the WTW bullshit.
Apparently the WTWs (Won Twue Wayers) are at it again. (Or, maybe that’s at it still.) I got word there’s a couple of self-appointed BDSM “experts” holding court and giving out a lot of bullshit information, such as female Dominants/Dommes
The “magic rain room” and creativity.
I get a lot of my ideas in the shower. A. Lot. Sometimes new ideas for stories, sometimes plot snags working themselves out. I have a dive tablet and waterproof notepad for taking notes when this happens. (And thanks to
Me…today.
This pretty much sums it up. This fibro flare from hell and crazy fluctuating weather can stop anytime now, ktksbai. *head/desk* #fibromyalgia #spoonie Tymber’s Latest His Canvas A Lovely Shade of Ouch A Merry Little Kinkmas Tymber’s Hubby’s Books
Blessed Winter Solstice!
Blessed Winter Solstice! (Or Summer Solstice for my peeps down under.) It rained today, so I caught some, filled several jars, and reset my altar, cleansing several of my tools and stones with rainwater. Felt good to get it done.
#homeimprovement hell – (part 2) Well, it’s sort of done…
Apparently there will be a part 3… Last night, at the weekly Wednesday dinner out with my parents and a variety of other people (the roster fluctuates depending on who’s there) Hubby and I were sitting at one end with
#homeimprovementhell – It’s HOW old? (part 1)
(Just in case you thought an author’s life was glamorous…NOT.) Nothing like waking up on a MONDAY before you’ve even finished your first cup of coffee, no less, to realize your house’s ONLY toilet is LEAKING. Oh, from the BOTTOM.
Dear Readers.
Dear Readers: I am NOT rich. Just because I’m a “published author” doesn’t mean I’m making Stephen King money. (Don’t I wish!!) I know that readers who pay to buy my books and who give me word of mouth advertising
Author cr*p.
With the events of the past few days, a looming deadline, and a writers’ event to attend this weekend, the last thing I feel like doing is pimping my crap. (I feel like crawling into a cave in a Xanax-induced
F*ck cancer.
*sigh* I’m sick of cancer taking the people I love. We lost a good friend yesterday, a few months sooner than we all thought. He’d stopped treatments, but his heart stopped suddenly yesterday, his body weakened by chemo and treatments.