Rainy days are usually the days that I get some of my best writing done. I don’t like being wet unless I’m swimming or soaking in a bubble bath, so I tend to avoid the outdoors when the skies are grey and weepy in favor of some guilt-free hours with my manuscript. There’s just something about the soothing sound of the pattering raindrops on the roof that brings out my creativity. But it’s been raining at my house for three days straight now, and I’ve barely written anything because of this:
This is Lucy. I know. She’s precious. All things are precious at 11 weeks old. And while I didn’t birth her, she clearly shares my sentiment about not wanting to go outdoors when it’s raining. Unlike me, however, she’s not interested in cuddling up somewhere to write to her heart’s content when it’s drizzly and damp outside .
Her heart’s content consists of decimating woodland creatures:
Helping me with the dishes:
Helping me with the laundry:
Helping me recycle:
Playing keep-away with my pencil:
And the list goes on and on. Rain, rain, go away, I need my puppy to go outside to play…and potty. (You can thank me later for not posting a picture for that one.) Hopefully, there are sunny skies in tomorrow’s forecast.