~thankful thursday~ magnitude

Posted on December 1, 2023 by marybethrew

~30 days of gratitude~ day 23

11/23/23

I am grateful to have Quinn home, where he can up his apple-peeling game.

~30 days of gratitude~ days 24 and 25

11/24 and 25/23

Giving myself two days of gratitude credit, because I was away from my laptop for a full twenty-four hours (and I know it’s unusual, but I don’t use Facebook on my phone). I am grateful for the uniquely special relationships you can come across in blended families. There is something so refreshing about a four-year-old saying, “Nana, can you ask Quinn if he will play Candyland with me?” In earshot of the sixteen-year-old, who says, “Sure!” without reservation, and then they go play. Something extra tender about the way the sixteen-year-old knows how to play up what a tricky hiding spot the four-year-old has hidden in this time, during hide-and-seek. It reminds me of when the sixteen-year-old was just barely five and cheering on the college track athlete, yelling along with her teammates to “push it, girl!” and how she was totally game to color with him in his dinosaur coloring book in the stands after her race. Now he is showing her daughter how to dig up dinosaur bones in a phone app, and trots along by her side in the park as she pedals her princess bike with training wheels.

~30 days of gratitude~ day 26

11/26/23

I am grateful for these brothers of mine, this year and every year. I’d be grateful just for their excellent brotherness, but they are also superb in the department of uncleness. I hear B’s laugh and T’s sense of humor in my kid, and it was sure nice of them to share.

~30 days of gratitude~ day 27

11/27/23

It was just four days into my first year ever of writing gratitude posts when I first declared my gratitude for “sleeping kitties purring near the crackling fire.” One of the things that has hit home for me during this eighth grateful year is that gratitude does not stop or even slow down time. My kitties were so much younger then, and this year, their age suddenly showed. Three years ago, I included this Brené Brown quote in my gratitude post, and it still resonates.

“Gratitude is vulnerability. I’ve had the honor of sitting across from people who have survived tremendous things. No matter what the trauma was, they said: ‘when those around me are grateful for what they have, I know they understand the magnitude of what I’ve lost.’ So often we’re afraid to be grateful for what we have because we think it’s insensitive to those who have lost. However I think gratitude, in some ways, is healing for people.”

It was earlier that day that my father-in-law had died. There have been a fair few November nights over these years when I have felt daunted by my commitment to keep on showing up to reflect on what I’m grateful for. Two years ago, November arrived just as we returned from Oklahoma following my mother-in-law’s death. This November I spoke at a gathering of Don’s friends and family because Don died earlier this year. In these times it’s not that hard to access gratitude, it’s more that it’s hard to rein it in, to narrow it down, to not feel compelled to attempt to reckon with every single thing about a person’s whole life for which I feel gratitude. Those nights when nachos, while a great dinner option, cannot be the subject of the post because there is too too too much else.

As I sit here deciding what I’m grateful for tonight, I keep glancing over at Lisa kitty where she is lying stretched out on the cushion in front of the wood stove, and I stare for a minute to see if the fur on her belly is still lifting with another breath. She has let me give her four baths now. On the last one, she barely complained, but lay in front of me, letting me wring warm washcloths across her back. If you know Lisa like we do, you know she curses like a sailor, dropping f-bombs every other meow, so this submissiveness was telling. Last night she climbed on my lap and let me pet her for a good hour or more, though she has been extra solitary lately, crawling into a box or a drawer for long stretches of hours. But after work tonight she greeted Rich with meows to hurry up and light the fucking fire, then curled up in front of it. It feels meaningful that she is here with us this evening, front and center by the warm crackling fire, in our midst, for a wee bit longer.

~30 days of gratitude~ day 28

11/28/23

Lisa held on until this morning, but before I went to work, she took her last breath. Rest well, sweet kitty, I will miss you.

I am grateful that work asked so very little of me today, other than to absorb research talks about Pacific cod, one of my fish loves, so basically I watched tv about Alaska and flashed back to my summer wilderness time in Kodiak. Some nice escapism. Usually my job asks much more in a day; on Monday I tagged fish—performed thirty-one minor surgeries—before lunch. Today, light duty, but lots of brain engagement, which was what I needed.

And my friend of the uncanny impromptu casserole timing nailed it again, so that after I got home an hour late after driving home the long way to avoid the accident bogging down traffic, dinner was already made. (I’m looking at you, camp boss.) So grateful.

~30 days of gratitude~ day 29

11/29/23

I am grateful for this month of sunrises. Every November marks a new beginning for me, ever since I started doing this crazy thing. Sunrise seems a fitting symbol, and the ones I’ve witnessed this month, including this morning, have been exquisite.

~30 days of gratitude~ day 30

11/30/23

It has been a month. I sprinkled some seeds on our Lisa kitty’s grave this afternoon, to get a nice soaking now that our rain is setting in, so some wildflowers can start rooting in before spring. Three years ago, I said this about seeds: “If I had a theme this year it might be the seeds of gratitude planted in the gratitude garden, and how they are an investment in my future nourishment. Whenever I notice and appreciate the snuggly kitty on my lap, the warmth emanating from the wood stove, or my hardworking husband coming home from work, it’s another seed in the seed bank. These dormant spirals of potential, storing an idea for next year, waiting it out through the harsh conditions of winter. So many adaptations to fly, float, cling, catapult, shake, or shatter, to make sure they deliver on the promise of future abundance.”

It hasn’t been all eulogies and graves this November. It has also been Candyland and apple peels, sunrises and sunsets, yard kittens and mini writing retreats, nachos and casseroles, twinkle lights and wood stove fires, warm towels and heirloom apples, poems and bay road drives, garlic bread and ocean soundscapes. I’ve been warmed, fed, cheered on, cheered up. A chorus of voices of complementary gratitude has sung out from all of you who climbed on the gratitude bus with me for yet another year. I’m so grateful to begin winter once again from this gratitude grounding.

~thankful thursday~ take care

Posted on May 21, 2020 by marybethrew

Saturday 5-9

I am grateful for a beautiful day. Rich worked, but he didn’t go in until 8 so we slept until it was daytime instead of “still nighttime” as I describe normal 4:15 wakeups. After he went to work, I meditated, worked on lifelong learner (13^th birthday edition) and then spent an hour in the garden, arranging dahlia bulbs, black eyed susan roots, and moth mullein and chrysanthemum seeds in the freshly weeded yellow terrace. Then I drove to pick up my veggies, stocked the fridge, did some more writing and some more gardening, and got on the video call with Quinn. We read about when the nine leave Rivendell, and their fight with the snowy pass on Caradhras, when they turn back and the men have to carry the hobbits through the snow, but Legolas can walk on top of the snow to bring hope back to all that the journey is one they can endure.

Rich came home mid-day and then we spent the afternoon together in the yard. He mowed while I transplanted pansies, verbena, monarda, nicotiana. I planted some more seeds out in the red terrace – hollyhocks, cosmos, scarlet sage. I found him on his knees in the rhododendron bed we planted a year ago, weeding. I joined in and did the perimeter where lots of new columbines are joining the herd.

Sunday 5-10

While I made breakfast, Rich played George Harrison’s album All Things Must Pass disc 2, which we had pulled out because Sheryl Crow played such a lovely version of Beware of Darkness the other night. We hadn’t played George’s version yet, but I woke up with the song in my head, and when it came through the speakers when Rich pushed play on track one, it merged seamlessly with what was already in my head. Synchronicity.

“Beware of darkness

Watch out now, take care
Beware of the thoughts that linger
Winding up inside your head
The hopelessness around you
In the dead of night

Beware of sadness
It can hit you
It can hurt you
Make you sore and what is more
That is not what you are here for”

Gardened all day on Mother’s Day. Nothing to do but power through. I added ten buckets of compost in the front garden, where the slugs have been preventing any poppies or nicotiana or lilies from growing. I’ve been on regular patrol, and now I have Lauren’s grape poppy seeds on their way to me in the mail to start again. I had a lovely extra visit with Quinn. He showed up at noon after sending me a Sierpenski’s triangle Mother’s Day card, freshly showered and with a button-down shirt on. He dressed up for me.

Monday 5-11

I am grateful Mother’s Day is behind me.

I gardened hard from 6-8am thinking it would rain any second… got lots more compost spread around and seeds are ready for a good soaking. At 3pm there was not really much rain yet, but a wee sprinkle.

Picked up groceries and filled my tank. Just shy of two months on one tank of gas.

Four wilsons! In the bayou. A whole wilson family! And more hummingbird bayou visits to the twinberry.

Tuesday 5-12

Quinn and I started an email story where we each write one line and send it back and forth. It began,

Once there was a boy who lived in a land where

the only things were a chain of islands and the ocean.

I’m excited to see where it takes us!

I am grateful to be starting to learn not to explain myself.

Rich and I went on an errand date to pick up more garden hose, lightbulbs, cat litter, whiskey, and coffee beans, and put gas in the highlander. Then I made nachos, of course. Always grateful for nachos.

Wednesday 5-13

I have been through the abundance meditations twice now and picked favorites. Number seventeen with the flowing stream and bird sounds, “I move through my days lighthearted and carefree knowing all is well,” is good for me to repeat.

Also cathartic is my walk around the rainy yard sacrificing slugs. I’m grateful for balance. Water sounds always help, even if it’s rain. I’m happy about this rain as it is timed very well to soak all the flower seeds I just planted, though I, and the seeds, will be ready for sun again soon!

Yelling also feels good. Playful laugh yelling at Rich’s mischief, yelling at the butthead deer who eat my flowers. Lighthearted and carefree is easier after a good yell.

Thursday 5-14

Grateful for music and literature. One of Quinn’s favorite bands, Ok Go, put out a new song called all together now, and I love it, as well as what they wrote. The song references Rebecca Solnit’s piece where we are melted down in the chrysalis, which I also love.

“There’s another analogy that comes to mind. When a caterpillar enters its chrysalis, it dissolves itself, quite literally, into liquid. In this state, what was a caterpillar and will be a butterfly is neither one nor the other, it’s a sort of living soup. Within this living soup are the imaginal cells that will catalyse its transformation into winged maturity. May the best among us, the most visionary, the most inclusive, be the imaginal cells – for now we are in the soup. The outcome of disasters is not foreordained. It’s a conflict, one that takes place while things that were frozen, solid and locked up have become open and fluid – full of both the best and worst possibilities. We are both becalmed and in a state of profound change.

“But this is also a time of depth for those spending more time at home and more time alone, looking outward at this unanticipated world. We often divide emotions into good and bad, happy and sad, but I think they can equally be divided into shallow and deep, and the pursuit of what is supposed to be happiness is often a flight from depth, from one’s own interior life and the suffering around us – and not being happy is often framed as a failure. But there is meaning as well as pain in sadness, mourning and grief, the emotions born of empathy and solidarity. If you are sad and frightened, it is a sign that you care, that you are connected in spirit.”

~Rebecca Solnit

I’ve been thinking about how being able to live with my choices includes not just my decisions about where I go, how I behave, what I do concerning Quinn and our physical safety and the physical safety of others around us, but also how I speak, write, react, how I treat others. It’s not unique to this time, but right now there seem to be so many opportunities to put this into practice. It helps when I can remember The Four Agreements, to not take personally what is coming from other people. My integrity is based on me being responsible for me.

For me, fear is not weakness; bravery is not absence of fear; delving into emotions is not the opposite of courage. I’ve definitely been swimming in the deep end, emotionally. Anything can make me cry; tonight it was the encouraging note from Quinn’s algebra teacher, for example.

But I know that for me, the alternative to stringing these weekly beads of emotional intensity on a continuous strand, is to let the strand tie me up in knots. There is a certain amount of tension in the line I must maintain; too much slack and snarls start to form. I am grateful for the tool of writing, for the way the strung beads can sometimes reflect light when the sun shines again to remind me when I look back over its length.

Friday 5-15

The sun is coming out, and it lit up every spider web in the woods as I went for an early morning walk. Everything is still wet from the rain, and the wet edges of things allow the light to refract so the edges are visible in a new, crystalline, gossamer way. I love the fresh new beginning of the sun after a three-day rain. I love spotting the spiraling new beginnings everywhere around me, bending the light.

Mercies are new every morning.

~black and white wednesday~

Posted on July 27, 2016 by marybethrew

yes yes yes!

Posted on July 22, 2016 by marybethrew

around june 1st we started living in dragon house 2.0, and toasted our new home together with whiskey and cokes and organic peanut butter cups. although we are still finalizing details and sorting out technicalities in anticipation of actually closing the sale, and i hesitate to write much out of superstition, i have been strewing jars full of fake fireflies all around to illuminate it, unpacking one box at a time in stolen bits of time between our many summer activities, wielding a stud finder and hanging things on walls (all the while joking that i myself am a stud finder), and hanging star wars pick up lines on the fridge, for fresh inspiration to share with the one of whom i will never tire of asking, “do you come here often?”

“i must be from alderaan, because you just blew up my world.”

“i can’t believe you’re from an ice planet, because you’re so hoth!”

“care to fly your milennium falcon through my asteroid belt?”

when i used that last one i was met with, “wow, i didn’t know you were into that, honey.” and that was when i, after an awkward delay, realized what it was implying. “you’re such a pain in the asteroid belt,” i responded.

i am building a home with the man of my dreams, and life is so full. we spent a wonderful date weekend seeing a ben harper show at the edgefield, looking at each other as each song started, “oh i love this one!” like… steal my kisses: “i love to feel that warm northwestern rain….” ben substituted for the appropriate geographic region. hearing his new tunes we realized how in sync we are with how content and happy ben seems, from his demeanor to some of his newer lyrics like the song shine…

we shine like a new tattoo
scarred on skin bright as day
across my heart
there is no other way

give me tomorrow
and i’ll give you today
in the end
there is no other way

we are like two roads
that lead to the same place
won’t leave a trace
there is no other way

if you were all i had
i would have it all

sitting around the campfire over the weekend of the fourth, one of the topics i discussed with sister friends, as women will discuss when the men and kids are all tucked into their tents, was wedding ideas (i think maybe there’s a little flat bride in each and every one of us). my joke the past few months has been that i think he is trying to have the shortest engagement on record. we have already spoken about setting a date for next summer 2017 for our wedding, having remained “practically engaged” all the while. i was saying to my girlfriends that i wondered if he was waiting to choose a rock for a ring at his mom and dad’s when we went there in the fall (we plan to go to oklahoma in november after he finishes being in one flew over the cuckoo’s nest in october; i know, isn’t he cool?) but i also told them, the main thing is, i won’t see it coming, he will surprise me and manage to be unpredictable somehow. he is just a mysterious guy and he’s gonna find a way to be mysterious about it. (at the end of the post you can comment on whether i called it!)

~~~

i talked to rich on saturday night and figured out when to leave home to get to oregon country fair by 11 on sunday when it would open, and he said to meet outside the gate at the dragon. i was trying to remember exactly where that is, which is hilarious because it’s obvious when you are there, but i get fuzzy after a year goes by. the phone call was all logistics and happy anticipation of seeing each other in the morning, after his annual week away doing his thing. fair was once upon a time an event i associated with hurt and betrayal, but ever since i’ve known rich, and in just the 5 times i have watched him go there, and had him conserve his phone battery for an entire week so that he can call me each and every night, i have gone from nervous reluctant acceptance to joyful anticipation of each year’s fair and the one day i spend there at his side.

ohhhhh, you mean this giant dragon?

everything went smoothly driving there on sunday. i had not really put a lot of thought into my “outfit” this year (last year i went all out, with dragon face paint and a flower crown.) saturday night i finally settled on an ocean theme and paired my fish sarong with my blue ruffly sweater. i wore an abalone shell necklace i’ve had for a long time but haven’t been wearing and finally reclaimed for myself (also because of negative associations i needed to let go of and finally did).

not this dragon. or this one. or this one.

i got my ticket at will call and walked into the area where the dragon is, just inside the fence, but not inside the actual fair entrance yet… oh, duh, that giant dragon, where we end up meeting every single year. looking for rich in his usual colorful shirt made it take 2.2 seconds longer to see him because he was in a light colored long sleeve shirt. it was cool and drizzly (about which i was happy because it meant there would not not be as many overwhelmingly crowded people moments and i got to park really close). he saw me first and just waited by the dragon “pretending” that he didn’t see me. he lowered his hat brim and i followed suit by “hiding” behind little sapling trees “sneaking” up on him. then i finally got over to him and we laughed and hugged for about 5 minutes, to make up for 5 days of no hugs.

this dragon is the one!

he had our broom in his hand! i exclaimed excitedly about how he had gotten us a broom for our house. last year we had been eyeing the brooms because these brooms are really sturdy pieces of artwork hand made out of real stuff and like tree branches, and the bristles are pretty colors (i overheard kids calling out to another kid who carried an orange broom, “hey, kid with the firebolt!”) rich had a beautiful dark blue one in his hand. we had said we’d get one for the new house so i thought it was wonderful he’d gotten it, but logistics like whether to take it to my car before walking around the fair were my initial preoccupation. but then he held it out and began making a little speech about how he had gotten me this broom, at which point i switched from logistics to wait, he’s being weird, is this it? is something up? then told my brain to shut up and listen.

he told me how it’s symbolic because it’s for our new house and represents new beginnings, but also because one of the things that’s good about us in our relationship is how we keep our “house clean” and keep the cobwebs out and keep the space between us clean, and free from the dust bunnies of our past, (this is a paraphrasing of his actual words, because shortly thereafter my brain turned to mush) and so the broom symbolizes us continuing to sweep out our cobwebs and keep this good thing going. and we joked about sweeping each other off of our feet, of course. by this time i was totally thinking about how strangely he was acting, but i said thank you for the broom and hugged and kissed him and turned back to whether we should put the broom in my car while we’re still out front, so we don’t have to carry it around, and he agreed, “but there’s one more thing.”

then he pulled a ring out of his pocket and said, “will you marry me?”

i think my eyes must have gotten really big, and i said yes! of course! and more hugging and kissing ensued.

~~~

the original ring he gave me was also a silver dolphin ring, but was too big and we ended up exchanging it for this one.

he joked that his jedi mind trick about me wearing ocean clothes must have worked.

last selfie before becoming engaged

rich got the ring from a guy we know locally, who makes and sells jewelry at fair, and is part of the family who owns the restaurant where rich and i went out on our very first date. he also built the school room addition on our living school, his grandson went to ols with quinn, and i could go on, but you get the idea. both rich and i transplanted here. i make no bones about how i set my intention right away that i planned on putting down roots here, getting to know and adopting the locals for my own; rich jokes that in 1996 he came here to try it out for a year, and that he’s still trying it out. we are very interconnected with the community here. case in point: i got my man, my job, my vacation house, and my dragon house all from connections made in yoga class.

so we took the broom to my car (phew! i’m sure you were all impatiently awaiting the outcome on that, i know i was) and took a couple of selfies by the dragon on our way back in and then walked around a little bit, exchanged the ring, and got coffee. he asked whether i wanted a peanut butter brownie or an espresso brownie with my coffee; i chose peanut butter. we were being dorks and “practicing” feeding each other cake while we shared it. right after that he said, “well i’m glad that’s over with, i hadn’t had coffee yet because i was so nervous and jittery and…” without missing a beat i snorted laughing, “and were you also pretty full of shit?” and he laughed. we all know who does all of the overthinking and fretting in this relationship, and it’s not him.

i had already been set on, in the moment, saying yes, whenever if ever that moment occurred. i wasn’t going to joke about that, not even given the latest story he’s been telling that “i’ve asked her but she keeps saying no.”

however, immediately afterwards we could joke!

~~~

we went and listened to a band (the deer, from austin texas, very fun) and mostly stood there hugging and swaying and enjoying the music. he got us lamb souvlaki for brunch and we saw another band we really liked (the hill pigs) and for that show i was standing in front of him with his arms wrapped around me, also dancing, swaying and reveling in the wonderful atmosphere of fair.

we got him a matching broom for keeping by the wood stove for sweeping up ashes and wood chips while tending the hearth. rich also learned from the broom maker when he bought the broom, that it’s good luck to buy a new broom for a new house, and that you should never bring an old broom to a new house; we also laughed about jumping over the broom at our wedding. we got a couple of hooks to hang the brooms up from the blacksmith (after we watched them being forged, which was so cool) because hanging up the brooms should make them last longer.

a band we love (taarka) but who weren’t playing on stage this year were playing acoustically just sitting on the path, so we bought their cd and sat and listened for a while to them. their son is about quinn’s age and had his pokemon cards laying next to him so i chatted with him about kyogre mega ex, as you do.

we spent the better part of the day just walking around, sitting on benches together holding hands and hugging and talking and people watching and taking pictures. he fed me afghani food, indian food, chai, and a blintz. we saw a few people we knew, but we agreed not to tell anyone our news until we had told our families, and just enjoy knowing it for ourselves for that day. we took pictures of ourselves with the “yes yes yes” signs. they are all over the fair, and i’ve always loved those signs in general but now i love them even more!

~~~

we go there every year, so now we have a built in day to celebrate our engagement every year. a fun place we will go back to, close to the date, and spend an amazing magical day there together, one where i don’t have to cook or do things for people, it’s just fun and celebration there, and, um, we got engaged beside a giant dragon. and he got my ring and broom there. just so good.

it goes beyond that. one of the cobwebs we originally had to sweep away, from my past, had to do with country fair. 4 years ago i had to consciously try to enjoy myself; and now i super look forward to it, and even still sweeping out old cobwebs like hangups about a necklace i want to wear but wasn’t wearing, and finally wearing it. we could have done just fine building a relationship without healing those particular things, done our separate things when fair time came around, but instead, we swept out the old junk, made it a place where there is only love and more love, and now my only thoughts about fair will ever be happy happy happy thoughts.

briefly, on the word fiance. it is growing on me, as we make a point to use it with great frequency since it will only be valid for a year-ish. at first, though, it made me want to introduce him as richard, because it sounds so formal:

“this is my fiance, richard.”

yup, there he is again. my sweet fiance.

i asked him if he was bummed i didn’t go on saturday instead, because it would have been the 9th and his number is 9 so i asked if it had crossed his mind. it had, but he said that 10 is also a great number, that it symbolizes completion. (aww.) later on i was singing 10, 10, 10, 10 is for everything, everything, everything, everything!

and there’s pretty much a little of everything at fair!

~~~

one of the best parts of leaving fair (besides looking at everyone leaving through the sunlit gate and taking pictures and people watching) is walking back past the dragon. we realized that we can reenact our engagement every year! and we started right away. he hammed it up much more for the reenactment with lots more words, will you, mary beth rew, etc…. hilarious. just like picking each other up in the laundromat whenever we go back to it (not often lately, now that we’re washer and dryer owners) only like a million times better.

candy pink? baby pink?

already, since we’ve been home, i’ve asked him to tell me the story of our engagement, and i offered, “you could start with ‘once upon a time.'” i know he loves me because he indulges silly, playful things like that… the ones that increase the love, you know. “once upon a time, a long, long time ago, i was at oregon country fair. i went to the dragon, and i waited… and waited… and waited…. and waited…. and waited some more…. and then i had to find a dry spot to sit down… and i waited… and waited…”

~~~

frequently asked questions:

q: have you set a date yet?

a: nope! but sometime summer 2017 is looking likely.

q: candy pink or baby pink?

a: we’re more into rainbow these days. i think rich and i agree we like things not all matchy matchy.

q: do you come here often?

~~~

now that it’s been over a week, (on the one week date, we celebrated “one week engage-a-versary”, which quickly devolved to “dorkaversary”) the telling of the news to friends and family itself has been incorporated into part of the story… i called my mom the next morning, then my bff, then did a swing by before work to tell camp boss the live version. there was an amazing freak attack by sister camp boss, who abruptly set baby z down, and after we hugged, i picked z up and he proceeded to puke from excitement. camp boss (who now also answers to “wedding boss”, and a few other friends have had amusingly joyous and borderline tearful reactions, while others have had more nonchalant reactions such as, “oh, we thought you were already engaged/married!” when my sister in law texted that she was barfing (a common reaction to warm fuzzy overload) i told her i had the puke situation covered: baby puke on ring, check. it hasn’t been all puke, either, i also bathed the ring in clay while throwing my first bowl with a friend who pointed out that the two dolphin tails represent “the two shall become one,” and still another friend invited us over for a dinner of italian wedding soup to celebrate! it has been wonderful to be carried along on a wave of shared joy as we spread the news to friends and family.

~~~

i think rings are supposed to symbolize eternity, the circle going around forever, but i see this ring as more of a spiral. the whole eternity aspect of this journey we’re on is a no brainer “love you till i die meet you on the other side” and so on and so forth, but we live in the right now, here in the present moment. i see the spiral as a symbol of beginning again from right now. let’s wake up and be in a wonderful (clean, swept-out) space together and love each other today. new beginnings, fresh every day. it’s just like meditating: go back to your breath, start again when your mind wanders… stay with it, keep your attention on it, always come back to it.

the morning after our day together at fair rich texted me “morning my lovely fiance.” his choice of the word lovely coincided with these lyrics from the taarka cd that had been the soundtrack to my drive home along the foggy dark coastline, so i texted him back:

shall we rise up my darling and greet the new day with open arms

and shall we be strong my lovely and never give up on heart and song?

(a: yes yes yes!)

mb

magic & bioluminescence

Tag Archives: new beginnings

~thankful thursday~ magnitude

~thankful thursday~ take care

~black and white wednesday~

yes yes yes!