My Desk Was Cleaner Yesterday

The weather keep promising and warning of showers--maybe strong storms--in the very near future. This is mostly hype; however, as we have a dog who refuses to go outside if its raining and will sit on top of you and shiver when it thunders, I pay more attention to the forecast than otherwise. Which means that I've been a little on edge as summer creeps in and the humidity zooms and the little thunderstorm icons start to march across the screen...but nothing materializes. In addition, the Jack to my Sally got his second shot yesterday and, again, rumors of a few bad days following the second shot had us laying in the soup (for him) and pizza (for me) and waiting.

The tension!!

So, of course, something needed to be straightened. It started out as organizing writing projects so that the notebooks for the most current projects were close to hand and then turned into rearranging the closet and progressed to updating the TBR shelf because, let's face it, as soon as I put something on there I promptly decide NEVER EVER to read it. Okay, brain, thanks for that.

Today my desk bears the evidence that I started...well, repopulating it with tiny notebooks with faces, stuffed dragons, and an octopus that looks like it's going into construction. I'm going to try getting the writing trolley arranged today. Does the writing trolley need a post? Would it help me arrange it? (yes. it will get a post.)

What about the writing? Well...I do have a notebook pulled out so I may have my project for the rest of this month sorted. We'll see.

Hope you're have a good week and the storms give you a miss!

-- Chrissa

Comments

Once Upon a Future Past

Sharing with The Sunday Muse #204 . It's too far in the afternoon, I thought but evening ran behind me dragons, demons, and the sleeping world; afraid to turn, to wake me. Power needs its horror stories, its ghosts. It's too far in the afternoon, I thought but evening followed close; a fantasy of goodness, where the gold is always covering bones. Power needs its fairy tales, its witches. It's too far in the afternoon, I thought but evening treads my hem, like an army from the dragon's teeth and all the lies therein. -- Chrissa

Not Slacking, Just Writing

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Fearsome by Survival

Sharing today with T he Sunday Muse #189 , where Shay is hosting. Come and read and share a piece! On a web-white, wool-quiet morning I found the girl our stories gave us The one who survived She wore the meadow, carded and sewn Long since burned for field Still, she knew me Her stories named me fierce, feral She might have feared The one who devours Neither of us spoke, patient at morning Breath, warmth, silence Innocent of power We know the stories kill us both We know that we become Fearsome by survival Hello and welcome. It's 67 degrees outside this morning and a warm December weekend might seem like the kind of thing that would prevent me from following through on a plan to hibernate with a good book for the rest of the weekend...but it's the doomscrolling that's run down the charge on my phone that's preventing me from doing that. Also, I may have developed an intolerance to long stretches of quiet during the past year and a half. Anyway. Looking forward to r...

A Weed on The Curb

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