I despise those pictures people take - usually in a bathroom - holding the phone up so you can't see their faces. Why hide your face? We aren't looking at your ham tattoo or your hemline. We're looking at that scuzzy bathroom.
Enough of my grumpiness. Here's my traveling jacket all decked out for cooler weather. When it finally gets here.
Until then, we are warm and parched. I've been carrying water in gallon juice jugs out to the deck plants and the bird bath up in the grove. It's been several weeks since we've had any kind of rainfall.
There was real writing, too. Writing a reading for a Tarot spread that I invented for the story is hard.
"...snowflakes dying all around him." Dee, some of those same lines worked on my head the moment I put them down. They make it hard to make the next move.
These two books (I've accepted that there are two happening at the same time.) have struggled, and continue to be struggling to be born. The least I can do is show up consistently.
I tuned in to see what further nonsense the House would perpetrate after voting McCarthy out. Gave half a moment worrying that they would try to get the Shitweasel to lead them after the sickening spectacle of him bloviating after court yesterday.
And McCarthy's sub's first act? Having Nancy Pelosi's office re-keyed while she was attending Diane Feinstein's memorial?
That is some small-minded, petty shit. What we have come to expect of Republicans.
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