And yes, tax season has left me a little worse for wear. That's why I'm here.
Of course the house does have lots of books and hot and cold running cats...
That's Hillary. He knows me. The kittens are still unsure what my purpose is.
So the sun is up now. I woke in the predawn a bit after 5, which would be my normal day back east. I'm listening to wind chimes and soughing wind that is sounding a lot like waves on the shore. Which is how it sometimes sounds at home, especially in the pines. It's raining back home, though. That's what the Weatherdude said. Half an inch and more. And while I applaud because we need rain very, very much, I'm also happy to be here where there's only blue sky and sharp edges. It's also going to be 90. That's different than back at home.
There's work in the home here. It's a working farm, more work than mine, more need to do chores several times a day. Chickens are more self-sustaining than horses. There's a barn, paddock, rabbits, birds. There's writing to be done. There's coffee and Judy buys fresh eggs just for me.
And wind. So much wind. I like wind. Blows the cobwebs out, acts as white noise. I need more wind in my stories. Which reminds me. I'm procrastinating. I still don't much like the editing process.