Help! I seem to have broken my can opener. Or maybe the can opener is working, but there’s nothing inside the can. Can anyone help me? Does anyone even know what I’m talking about?
While I figure out how to get the can opener fixed (or how to fill the can back up), I’ve been pursuing other creative avenues.
I’ve been working on a counted cross stitching project (no, I’m not an 80-year-old grandmother) that I started years ago and totally forgot about. It’s of a green dragon on top of a cliff with a castle and a giant moon in the background. If I ever finish it, I think I’ll hang it in The Boy’s room, which we’ve decided to paint a light green.
I’ve also been reading…a lot. In my literary adventures, I was chased by zombies; I was a super-smokin’ rock star who reconnected with an old girlfriend; I tripped in my designer shoes, went back in time, and fell in love; I was an Irish princess who was kidnapped and forced into slavery; and I was two different boys with the same name, both of whom fell in love.
I’ve even been thinking about dusting off my guitar case and plucking out a few tunes. At least I’m keeping busy, even if my muse is on an extended hiatus. What do you do when the mojo isn’t flowing?