Pumpkin Flowers and Writing Books

I’ve always wanted to write a book.  Ever since I was a kid.  I don’t know why.  I wasn’t one of those children that ran around making up crazy stories about witches, faeries, and the like.  I did come up with stories, but they only served to help me with that “pull random ass saving excuse from any orifice” talent I seem to have.

But, lately, the itch has gotten really bad.  It’s like needing a fix.  I need to write.  So maybe that’s what I’ll start doing.  I’ve got a few ideas.  If I can work with them, great.  It’s not about getting published, anyway.  It’s about getting the words down on paper (or a hard drive, take your pick) so they aren’t driving me mad anymore.

And, also, pumpkins have flowers.  I was expecting flowers when the information I found online said something about them, but nothing like that.  I could sell a bouquet of pumpkin flowers right now, if I wanted.  It’s kind of strange to see.  They are pretty, though.  And I’m down to only three jalapeno plants, two of which I’m probably going to give away.  Nothing else has survived but those three jalapenos, the two pumpkins, and some chives I’m not too sure about.

But, hey, how many people do you know who have a three-foot pumpkin plant sitting in a bucket in their backyard, eh?

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