Which means it’s cold in the garage and no wood working going on. No writing either. Work has been busy, and I can’t really use that as the reason for not writing. The last thing I wrote was a story that I refer to as “First, You Broke My Heart, Then You Loved Me” rolling around in my head for a long while. Around Thanksgiving, I woke up with the urgent need to start putting it on paper. Well, on a metal platter someplace in Google-space. The urge petered itself out just before the 700 word mark.
That’s been it for a while.