It's a mid-May afternoon and 65 degrees outside. The weather has definitely gone a bit wonky -- not that I'm complaining. I'm not one of those people that enjoys Summer. Spring and Fall are more my thing. It's been raining quite a lot too. Everything is unusually green around here. It's as if I packed some part of Seattle when I left and brought it back with me. It's very nice. Here's hoping we have a short Summer this year. If the weather has to be weird, I prefer this kind of weird. I don't like seeing the trees die from lack of water. (I'm not sure anyone does, really.) Meanwhile, my herb garden is kicking ass. The chamomile seedlings are busting out and the basil is growing nicely. I also planted a few Butterfly Plant and some Morning Glory seeds along the fence. My mother had some Morning Glory vines that used to grow along our backyard fence when I was a kid. I love them, especially the blue ones. They're beautiful. I keep talking about this, but I never thought I'd be able to grow anything from a seed before. Now, it seems so easy. (Did I mention I used to kill everything?)

After being stuck, the new project is once again rocking along. It's that middle thing. I do it every time. Saw a quote not too long ago from a wonderful writer which amounted to "When do we just get to be great at writing?" and it made me smile. That's just how it is. Seems the more you write well, the more difficult it becomes, but I can't stop. That blissful moment when it's just me and the character and everything is happening... it's better than chocolate. It just is. So I follow the bread crumbs in the dark until I come to a path... or a bear... or Hannibal Lecter. :)