I'm out of practice here. I also have nothing meaningful to wax poetic about.
You'd be surprised how often I lay awake and compose blog posts for that one day when I blog again. But no, I have nothing.
Right now my recently graduated daughter is playing Sound of Silence on the piano while my husband scrolls through his phone. I have some artichokes on the stove and expect my younger daughter home any moment from a date. My dog is staying behind the line of demarcation between the family room and dining room. I have increased my viewing size for all my writing to 150%.
If I don't finish and publish this post soon, it won't happen because my husband keeps talking to me (not a complaint, just an observation).
The main info I have to share is that I'm writing forward for the first time in a long time. I'm not piddling around with finished books or coming up with new idea... I'm writing and I WILL finish this WIP this month.
So there. Hello.
PS I was writing earlier while my eldest daughter played piano (it was ABBA). Later I shared that I had been writing a steamy scene. She said, "Oh, that makes sense." "Why?" I asked. "Oh, because you said 'straddled him' out of nowhere." Ah. Okay. At least she's old enough now for that not to be too weird.
