It has been dark, wet, stormy, nippy. I've been sick, my little girl's, the hubby. It's definitely not a charm coughing my way to a weakened, debilitating existence. I cannot do any chores. I was merely lying in bed and get siphoned into a snarky feeling of discontent. I should do more, save more, read and write more, iron the pile of clothing that's taunting the very basic core.
If only the cold, overbearing autumn, then winter, doesn't let me down, I would cross stitch or learn to crochet or decipher the code to comfort.
No comments:
Post a Comment