Seed catalogs and sleeping dogs. The dryer hums; every once in a while a crackle emits from the wood stove.
Morning appointment online long finished, leaving lots to ponder.
Where did my creative drive go? It's winter dormancy, perhaps, just like the trees outside my window.
It will be back, as surely as the daffodils (already poking through the mulch) will bloom in time.
At least, I hope.
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