“The Mole had been working very hard all the morning, spring-cleaning his little home. First with brooms, then with dusters; then on ladders and steps and chairs, with a brush and a pail of whitewash; till he had dust in his throat and eyes, and splashes of whitewash all over his black fur, and an aching back and weary arms. Spring was moving in the air above and in the earth below and around him, penetrating even his dark and lowly little house with its spirit of divine discontent and longing.”
– Kenneth Grahame, The Wind in the Willows, Ch. 1
– Kenneth Grahame, The Wind in the Willows, Ch. 1
Sometimes the urge to tell a story, paint a picture, sing a song becomes too strong and even the most humble homemaker, such as myself, longs to be lost in the joy of doing something creative. You are very welcome to join me.
not quite over the hill 
i know just how you feel
three dancer senryu
Nice to welcome a kindred spirit!