Once at my old house, I climbed up a narrow flight of stairs with a mailing tube full of large knitting needles (don’t ask). The bottom fell out of my tube, the needles followed the bottom, and when I leaned over to pick up a needle I fell down said narrow stairs careening over pastel metallic needles all the way. Apparently, my writing mojo took a similar spectacular fall this summer.
Ladies and gentleman, I have fallen off my writer’s wagon like Jack Lemon in Days of Wine & Roses. The kids had summer camp and summer trips and my inspiration went on vacation. But I like to think that my inspiration was re-charging and not merely slumbering. God help me, I’m not Lee Remick in Days of Wine & Roses. I will get off the floor, splash cold water on my face,and write into the sunset.
And I designed some flyers for the new knitting guild that I’m starting so that counts for something.