Sadly, all is not home-made whipped cream and farmers market strawberries here, but that was a highlight of the weekend. And today is better than yesterday, healthwise.
I started a new poem, I am applying to a writing workshop into which I have only the slimmest of chances of being accepted, and am wondering how to distance myself from the latest [last?] draft of a story while desperately wanting to just send it out.
I do really love being a writer. I have a million words to put down and play with, revise, begin, re-submit. Here I go.