Covered in glitter and crumbs. Waking up to maracas and fairy wings. Pockets full of rubber bands and dandelions. Buried under book piles. Dirty hands with homemade kombucha. Coffee in the rain. Waiting for that sacred scrap of silence.
Thursday, March 20, 2014
Out the window
I'm trying to be faithful to my scheduling writing time. But it's hard when out of every window all the signs of Spring are calling me.
1 comment:
mama cindy
said...
Love your signs of spring. Perhaps they are calling you to write about them?
1 comment:
Love your signs of spring. Perhaps they are calling you to write about them?
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