The muse came to visit me this week. I wasn't ready for her, but she cares not. She came to me in the early morning hours and whispered an idea in my ear. Truthfully, she's a bit late, but it matters not.
Each year for Christmas I write my grandchildren a story. The book is always illustrated by me as well. Sometimes the pictures are drawn, sometimes scrap-booked or photographed. For the holiday season 2009 the muse had deserted me. But here we are in 2010 and she's found her way to my side.
In fairness, perhaps my muse always visits me in February. Perhaps she thinks she's cupid. I don't know. All I know is that I've the kernel of an idea. It is formed and it grows day by day and keeps me awake each night. Blasted muse does not keep normal hours. But Muse - thank you for coming.