Love, you
Even with the chicken-scratchiest scrawl, there’s something treasurable in a handwritten letter. Isn’t that why we box some away, impossible to relegate them to trash? I still have letters from my Jennie Arnold Edwards Y Camp days, some likely 40 years old. And...Rubberbands, Bobby Pins & Glasses of Water
They're carelessly scattered in obscure places, "crumbs" my children rudely leave behind. I frown and think mean thoughts whenever I find them. When they were toddlers, it was a trail of Cheerios or Gold Fish. And juice box straw...“When the flower blooms, the bees come uninvited.”
Note: Click to bigify the pictures–OHMYWORD blog-size does NOT do them justice! "B" is for… bumbley… and beautiful… and busy… and beady-eyed… And "b" is for buggy… and (wanna)bee Beautiful flowers...The beautiful thirst
It caught me by surprise last night; a sense-memory so strong it transcended time. Sipping well water from a silvery dipper, dented and pocked, drawn from a bucket that had plunged into midnight deep, a mystery as fresh and wonderful to me as new birth. I...Welcome!
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