windblown tree face
We haven't turned the heat on yet. It's getting colder and colder here. The warm still tags along with the afternoon sun until the snow clouds settle in. That's how it starts, this flawinter.
I stood in my grandparents' kitchen and made them dinner, and bread. And I tried to think of ways I could take care of them. Move in with them? Move them into my house?
They have a window above their sink. I've always wanted a window above my sink.
We could sell all our things, and
I think about my things
and how my style is my style and my quirks and so what if I can't display "my style"
is it really that necessary?
All that we need is shelter, if that, for that we should be so thankful.
And would my life have less meaning if I had less things?
Would my life have room for more meaning if I
I sucked big time as a mom tonight. Like, totally set myself up for a win by rocking it the whole day and then boom! crash! clang! owww! I totally failed. Maybe the fall was more dramatic because I'd come from such a high. Whatever. I know I'm not really a bad mom, but I also can recognize when I am. And I was in that moment. I hate it. I want a do over.
Now I'm going to go whisper sorries in my sleeping children's ears.