With all due apologies for modifying this famous phrase, I ask, what do the three critters in the title in common with writers?
We all hibernate in the winter. I love this time of the year. The lake is cold and quiet. Snow birds have driven south. Year-rounders are hunkering down and recovering from the holiday season. The family has left and my husband and I are alone with the calico-with-an-attitude.
Nikki has the right idea. She’s tucked in, not to be disturbed until the tree comes down on Twelfth Night. She’ll survive, as long as we encourage her sleeping all day. Not a problem.
And what do I have on my plate as a writer?
That’s enough for now.