Alas, my creativity has ebbed. Seems like only a few moments ago it was flowing out my fingertips in comment responses. But now it has forsaken me. The genie is out of the bottle, and it ain't goin' back in. I guess the bottle of the creativity genie does not bear the slightest resemblance to the bottle of Major Nelson's Jeannie.
It's a shame, too. I was all set to tell you a little story about Fanny Hugg. Doesn't that make you want to run out with buckets and bowls and saucepans and spittoons and chamber pots, to capture the fast-flowing lost creativity of Val before it seeps into the ground, down to the creativity table, where it will remain until tapped by a well drilled by someone in desperate need of creativity? Like Val!
If only I could store my creativity in Tupperware in my neighbor's freezer until I need it. Then I wouldn't have to worry about losing too much creativity, and being rendered dry and droll like a Backroads Hick.
Perhaps I should write my posts before tending to comments.