An ode to oatmeal

The purple bowl with the dopey-eyed lama flies through the air, landing face-down on the hardwood, oatmeal exploding from all sides like an eruption of sticky silt landing heavy in a circumference of at least twelve feet from the epicenter. The unmistakable sound shatters the tantrum from the kitchen table and paralyzes me in the... Continue Reading →

Beauty Run-in

It is dark in my house, although it's only 4 in the afternoon. There is something about being alone, in your most comfortable place, during a dark afternoon. It's like a magical gift. A light scent of lavender incense wafts through the tall ceilings, circling the balloons -- still clinging to their float from days... Continue Reading →

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