What do you prefer, big vases with monumental arrangements or tiny offerings scattered throughout the temple that is your home? These were given to me by an employee that is shipping out to work at sea once again, and once again she'll be greatly missed.
I placed these peach roses into multiple Moroccan tea glasses. Prettifying up the sacred spaces and sills. All the small things make for grand living. When these are no longer of this Earth I will replace them with various pickings from nature. I've decided I must live in prettiness. My two eyes have to look out of my head each day at my surroundings...so why settle? Why look at a flowerless sill when you can look at one strewn with cuttings of wildflowers or little branches gathered up? Why I ask you? My year of fun has really only begun...out of hiding are the long dresses and sandals, the toes are getting extra attention with bright colours & jewels to celebrate the short season. Annnd..
..I've come to the conclusion that today is a "This Girl" day. After all, it's been over two years since the last one. Join me, won't you?
This Girl is white coyote sightings, chocolate chip cooking baking in early mornings, green green over-seeded grass that croaking frogs adore, honey bees & olive trees, wicked laughter, napping longer, crying over spilled milk. This girl is terrified, overwhelmed, gasping for breath in stormy seas, yet. YET.
This girl is also singing loudly while folding laundry, grabbing her daughters for butterfly kisses & hugs that last 'til a cocoon forms, lakeside bird feeding, potato chip indulging, lead-footed eagle-eyed crazy cautious, and sea foam bubbling up on sandy shores. There are people she misses greatly.
This girl is inspirito, exoticus, sanskrit, wood and hummingbirds. This girl's bones creak, her heart soars, her mind wanders. She tries her best, she succeeds, she fails. She shrugs. She sleeps and starts all over again in the morning. She dwells on the lesson. Long after the winds have blown the skeletal dust which remains of it down the road. She sweeps her thoughts with a corn husk broom so that the whirling dervishes of her mind don't prey on her Zen too long. She tells dirty jokes but gets offended at tasteless humour. She won't call you. She just doesn't have a lot of free time. But she still adores you. Still thinks you are just wonderful.
This girl is really no longer a girl but don't tell her that. She'll punch you in the chops. This girl longs to fly the world on a magic carpet, sleep under the stars and build a cabin with her bare hands in the forest. Then she'll sit on a word bench of her construction and tear it down dissatisfied and wanting to make it that. much. better.
This girl makes a mean pizza and can chase it down with a bold red. However only one glass, as she has to work in the morning. This girl isn't perfect but man does she love whoever-she-is-now and if it isn't perfect then who gives a flying monkey fluff! She can't go anywhere or do anything without her camera in her hand. Her life is over-documented. She writes her life as a story and won't be happy until the main character confronts her demons, gets the guy, wins the trophy & lives happily ever after while dancing.