He’s COMING.

Guys. Tomorrow. Husband is posting.

Remember that he’s a dreamer? He is. Totally.

Remember that I love him? I do. Completely.

Tomorrow, you can love him a little bit, too. So come back tomorrow. And see what he has to say to you.

Also, make comments on posts! One more day to get entered for the Sarah Eden book, Friends and Foes (drawing on the 17th), and 3 more days for the Amazon Gift Card for comments on THESE POSTS HERE and HERE (1 card, $10, drawing on the 19th).

In the meantime, here’s another recycled post, because I’m Living Green. Or else because I’m subbing, revising, baking bread, and dancing on stage… whatever. (Originally posted June 4th, 2009)

Some of you already know that if I don’t write first thing in the morning (well, maybe third thing, after a few pressing hygiene* matters) that my muse walks off in a huff, refusing to sing in my ear all day. She’s such a prima donna.

Some of you also know that now that school’s out around here, I’m taking “make a hot breakfast for the family” off my list of things to do every day, allowing me to both sleep till six if I so choose AND write first thing.

But today is my anniversary (not just mine, Husband’s, too, natch) and so I got up and made him some banana pancakes – with (*gasp*) white flour. He has since reaffirmed his pledge of eternal devotion. He’s so easy. And I gave him golf clubs. This is a big deal, since we’re pretty ferocious budgeters around here, and gifts are usually for the kids.

The point of all this is that I now have one very happy husband and one ridiculously offended muse.

It is time for me to pet her, to stroke her head, to tell her how much I love her and that almost nothing in the world could make me neglect putting her first in my day. Except that little marriage thing.

Oh, little Muse? Come out, come out here, sweetie.
You are the greatest Muse any writergirl ever had.
You are lovely and charming and witty and you have great hair.
I love your style.
I love your flowy, Greek-theatre style gowns (always the purest white).
I love your persistence.
Thank you, dearest Muse, for sticking with me,
for waking early

for working quickly

for speaking gently

for spreading adverbs like pollen on the wind

for comedy
for sensitivity
for availability
for consistency (we’ll never speak of YOU KNOW WHAT again…)

Won’t you please come out and play?
Won’t you please come sing in my ear?
Won’t you please forgive me for, just this once (again), putting husband before you on the schedule?
Come on, little one. Come sing with me.

I brought cinnamon bears.


*Hygiene is a word I can never, never spell correctly. It took me seven (SEVEN!) tries to get that one right. Weird is another that gives me trouble (duh). And vacuum. I think it wants 2 cs instead of 2 us.

DeNae - Can’t wait to hear from dream-man! Wait, that sounds pervy. I simply mean, your man who is a dreamer. Thaaaat’s more like it.February 16, 2012 – 1:22 pm

L.T. Elliot - I’m excited to hear from the hubs. And this recycled post is so my life right now. Punk muse.February 16, 2012 – 3:39 pm

Annie - Guess what?! Today’s my (and G, of course) anniversary, too! We’re practically twins.

If yours doesn’t show up, you can borrow my muse. I’m not using her AT ALL lately. :) February 16, 2012 – 6:39 pm

Susan Auten - Weird givees me trouble too. My muse and yours should get together. They can be BFF’s–Best Fickle Friends.February 16, 2012 – 7:58 pm

Annie - OHHH. Haha, totally missed the fact that it was re-post. I guess I just like it to be all about me :) February 17, 2012 – 5:41 am

Jenny - Your adventures in spelling made me laugh.
I have to re-write weird every.time.February 17, 2012 – 6:43 am