The hyacinths and pansies are crunchy, freezing, fragile; after tilting their faces to the sun, a cold snap stole their spunk.
Yet beauty will rebound.
Sleep well.
An ongoing quest for the meaning of life. Does true happiness exist in a Tory Burch turquoise-trimmed sheath, a MarieBelle Dark Chocolate Croquette bar, a rose garden, a rocky Maine beach, a daughter's eyes, an inky star-sprinkled sky, hours of computer keystrokes that tell a story--or all of the above?
You're such a good writer. Never forget that!
ReplyDeleteOh gosh, just seeing this comment now, Eileen! Thank you. So are you! But the weird thing is I had a dream about you and Pete last night. It was a long, rambling dream and my alarm went off at 6 am right near the end of it but it was such a good dream! You hired me for a writing job after a long and meaningful review!!!! It was good to see you! And now I find your comment, left this
ReplyDeleteMorning!!!' Xo Alice