Come What May

It's hard to believe it's May already. Where have the weeks gone? It feels like yesterday when I was typing about the snow, and now the iris are blooming. I need a clone. I need at least one version of myself to be writing at every hour of the day and night. There's too many stories I want to tell, and not enough time in which to tell them. I have to take them as they come, I suppose, and not question the muse.