You know how writers are. Maybe I’m assuming too much. Permit me to note that writers are moody. Weather affects them. News. Food. They’re so overly sensitive and moody, staring into space, or hunched over a notebook, typewriter or keyboard, or swilling coffee, tea, or libations. What’s going on in their heads mystifies normal humans. Only animals seem to understand, and other writers.

Well, Ashlandia is dripping with wintry cold precipitation today. Kind of a ‘Bittersweet Symphony’ or Blind Melon ‘No Rain’ day. It’s Monday, drawing out the Mamas and Papas, the Carpenters, or Burt B and raindrops falling on my head.

Screw that noise. We’re here to write. It’s all about the words, buddy, to paraphrase Meghan Trainor. Keep that in mind as she sings, ‘All About That Bass’.  It’s all about the words. And move your booty and get some exercise. Seriously. It’ll do your heart, mind and soul good.