writing retreat

Ky and I are house/dog sitting. We were promised wifi but no one can remember the password. This means I will have to write to amuse myself. And maybe play in the yard with the dogs. It's a deep yard. The ball travels a good distance.

I couldn't find the kettle but a pot of boiling water did the job. I left the story abruptly the other day because I had to go to work. I usually leave a note about the scene's purpose. I didn't have time and I can't quite remember. But my characters are sitting on a lovely verandah and getting to know each other while they wait for me.

My co-worker, at the library!, was shocked that one person could write so many books. I think she was shelving James Patterson. Even when I said it was his job she was still surprised. What amazes me is that she doesn't read. It's a good world that has room for both of us.