When you’re a writer with very expressive animals, sometimes, this happens.
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
Day 9: And the siege has ended…
Day 9 of Hubby in Snowhio: I survived, despite the morning starting off by having to scoop a dead armadillo out of the ditch and throw it away because of the flock of buzzards in the front yard hovering over