it’s been fairly nose-to-the-grindstone excruciating trying to get on top of work since we launched The Stir (did you check it out yet?). however, i’m holding my head high, knowing it won’t be like this forever.
and it helps that there are flocks of goldfinch tearing around the neighborhood every morning, throwing exuberant parties in the treetops. it’s also baseball season! my coffee is always freshly roasted, and i’m drinking smoothies every day. not to mention, there’s a $25 bid on my chocolate cake photo. and i have a fried chicken sandwich in my future (no, not because i won, but because i owe m one for pulling through on our writing bet, and i’m sure not going to let her eat alone).
i will come back to the stories. i have so many more to tell. like the one about the glowing yellow window, through the lattice work, and the sadness that sits inside. or the way she drove me, at 92, through the green and rolling hills, under the blossoming pink trees, down the familiar road streaked in yellow mustard, and showed me the way — and how i can’t stop wishing i hadn’t been in such a hurry. or the dream, in which i was running and leaping across green grassy fields. how soft black skunks were hiding in the clover. how i was trying to “get away from it all” there in that field, out in the wild, but the “all” was still there. still in the back of my dreamy mind.
yep, there are plenty more.
so…how is it out there anyway? do tell.