This is what I did instead of write this past weekend.
I worked on my daughters’ quilt. The same one I’ve been working on since May. It might, might, be done by Christmas.
I heard once that you have to live in order to write. Ok, I get that. But my living consists of cooking, cleaning, and when piecing a tedious quilt is the most exciting thing that I do, well, how is that living exactly?
My sister writes it best.
What do you do to live? Or do you just write?