What Can You Do

My head is as empty as Texas watering trough in August. I've tapped and tapped my keyboard, but the muse, the flighty tart, will not offer even a hint of an idea.

So I did the the only thing a clueless self respecting writer could do -- I started  Photoshopping a picture I took today. It was one of Jilda's beautiful lilies. It stood like a buttery beacon down near our mailbox. I stopped and shot a photo. But posting a simple photo didn't appeal to the muse, that little slut, so I Photoshopped the picture.

So here it is. Not my idea, but I had to do it or else I would not have a decent idea in the foreseeable future.