Description: Somewhere just south of sane.
I promised a blog in my Christmas card post, then realized I could literally smear shit on a piece of paper and that would just about cover it.
But since I have an aversion to bodily excrement of all types (except pimple popping and ear wax ), this will have to suffice.
I’ll start with saying that by month three of last year, I was preparing to shed the skin of over-stressed marketing exec and was starting to manifest my lifelong dream. We had built a writing studio in the backyard and I’d let Martha loose on growing starts for the flower garden I could see from my desk inside.