There is a bit of a lull at the end of the day, and she sits and writes.
PS: The grass is mowed, front and back yards are done. Laundry is off the line and put away. Trees are trimmed, trash all gone. Kids are fed and taking a nap on this cold, rainy day. I am the man, the woman, the whoever — and I rock this life.
The key is under that big brown rock by the gate, the one you struggle to move. Get to it.