So, I've rearranged the living room in a rather haphazard, self-satisfying kind of way. Two sofas usually at opposite sides of the room are pushed up together to make a pseudo daybed...I'm seriously considering converting it into a full-on sofa fort. Then, where one sofa usually lives I've set up a little writing nook (above). Doesn't it look like I'd get my write on? Yeah, I'm not. I opened my novel up and took one look and decided that a few revisions of essays would be good. But of course revisions became changing "was" to "were" and cutting a few"actually"s and "really"s. It's all very depressing. It drives me to drink as exemplified below...oh no wait that's a squirrel sucking on the wine cork from when my cousin and his wife came for dinner. Phew.
Can you see the bird of prey? I could and I ran for my camera while yelling (to myself of course): DAMN that's a BIG bird of PREY! It's actually not that big in the photo...it was bigger and sharper and cooler in real life.
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