What's so odd, HIMS, is that non-fiction is the one month I have no problem coming up with all kinds of suggestions. I really have to work at it for most of the rest of the year.
And will someone please do something with this damn cat. Christian's sitting on my lap uninvited and trying to love on my fingers while I type. Norton was trying to take that spot, but he was still wet from where I just let him and Crystal out for a few minutes and got the brush-off.
I give up. Now they're both on my lap.
And Crystal's on the bed beside me.