I have to do my taxes today. The coffee’s brewing, the kitchen table’s been cleared with a front end loader to make space for the piles of paper (don’t laugh, it’s true!), aspirin bottle is at the ready.
I should blog, fill up this white space.
I got nothing.
Diving in, clearing this odious task out of the way for another year.
Hunk and cats
Have a good’un!
About Nya Rawlyns
Crossing boundaries, taking no prisoners. Write what’s in your soul. It’s the bass beat, the heartbeat, the lyrics rude and true. Nya Rawlyns is the pseudonym of a writer who cut her teeth on sports-themed romantic comedy and historical romances before finding her true calling in the wilderness areas she has visited but calls “home” in that place that counts the most: the heart. She has lived in the country and on a sailboat on the Chesapeake Bay, earned more than 1000 miles in competitive trail and endurance racing, taught Political Science to unwilling freshmen, and found an avocation in materials science. When she isn’t tending to her garden or the horses, the cats, or two pervert parakeets, she can be found day dreaming and listening to the voices in her head.
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