Winter was handing out its usual cold packs of frost and snow—a good day, by any writer's standards, to get some work done. A no-excuses-day. A day to write until eyes stung from looking at the screen too long and fingers were darn near plunked out. (Double socks, old jeans, oversized cardigan... who needed a comb? Oh, hi husband.)
I was indeed lyrically productive; started a new story, worked on an agent pitch for a beloved mss, wrote a catalog bio for my latest book, tweaked through two PB manuscripts. Busily-busily-busily, life was but a dream. Until...I noticed, next to my desk, two dot-sized piggy eyes staring at me. "Make me a daisy crown," the unblinking eyes squeaked. Yeah, they did. And um, if you're like me, you would never disobey a pink piggy. So, I made my way to the craft closet.
And voila! I fashioned these little swirls of daisyness. ↑
Then I made even more. Because, well, because it was snowing. Hard. And I was puttering. Hard. And the crowns were so mini-a-ture and cute. Besides, pink piggy wanted lots! Yeah, she did. (Each measures: an inch and half across. )
Now, I attach the miniature crowns to Do Princesses Wear Hiking Boots? bookmarkers as give-aways. Smart pink piggy.
Never underestimate a puttering writer with pipe cleaners, silk daisies and a glue gun.