December has arrived...

Sometimes the urge to write overtakes my senses and I have to stop whatever I'm doing and pick up my notebook. I'm a bit antiquated. I write everything in notebooks first and then I type as time allows. Sometimes I write my whole book before I type a word. I like this process. It seems to work well for me.

When I first started writing full-time, I liked to go to the local bars and sit and write while I sipped on chocolate martinis. I felt sophisticated. It was a fun way to get out of the house. I like people-watching. I like to study interactions. As time has passed, I venture out less and less. I'm not sure why. Sometimes my bubble becomes too comfortable. Sometimes it's too cold outside. 

December just started here in Maine and during these freezing winter months, I often wonder why I still live in this state. It's dark and dreary for months upon months. The season is unforgiving and bitter. As you may have guessed, I don't enjoy winter sports. I live five miles from a ski resort, yet you couldn't pay me to get on a chair lift. I can think of so many other things I'd rather do, but those things are not winter activities. I'm a summer girl. I love camping. My husband and I are old-fashioned and simply tent, but we have so much fun. 

I often toy with the idea of starting a spicy book club here in Bethel. Perhaps one of these days that could be a lovely way to pass the time until summer comes back. How do you survive the cold winter months?