Bee. Last week, you played with Barnacles, Peso, Shellington, Kwazii, Dashy and Trick (whom I am mispronouncing, you tell me). They are your friends in Ecuador, and they are found in the treetops, but sometimes they move to the fish pond and you must call them each, one by one, until they float to the
While brushing my teeth, a realization arrives so quickly that I spit, fast, wipe the errant toothpaste on my bath towel and tiptoe in my moccasins down the hall to the office, and I write this: I have been evaluating my good days all wrong. Nightly, I write a simple daily recap in my journal.
Well, really, love is little more than a man bringing a pillow out to his wife on the hammock. But of course that’s not true. It is a man knowing his wife, noticing that it’s sunny, that the toddler is down for her nap, that she can certainly be found reading, swaying just outside the
This morning, I have fooled myself into thinking I have nothing to say. In truth, I have much to say – please come, don’t knock, let me tell you my feelings, would you like some grapefruit water? – but when my feelings aren’t kind and controlled and focused, my mind is a rushed tour guide
My necklace was tangled, and I was late, and frustrated that my fingers weren’t quite working the knot out as quickly as I’d wanted them to. And I’d cursed under my breath because everyone else would be on time, with their necklaces untangled, unknotted, free, and I’d need to sneak in the back with my
It’s Wednesday afternoon and Bee is down for her nap and the windows are open, and the dishwasher and laundry machines are making the most beautiful symphony of productivity and purpose, and Kelle just hit publish on a post where she interviewed me. It’s here, if you’d like to read. She’s a kindred spirit, a
I’m presenting this without commentary, as I want it to remain as untouched and unstained for you as it was for me. And I hope it might change the trajectory of your Tuesday, as it did for me: “It is a kind of love, is it not? How the cup holds the tea, How the
I don’t know, it’s as if I am two people. Maybe three, but certainly not four because four seems a complete reference to balance, as if life is even and rational, four corners, four winds. There are days in which I am amazing, incredible, earth-shatteringly good!, and then in a moment, in a flash, a