In love.

Tummy flipping woozles, doozy, dippy as a giddy kid tripping over light beams, clouds; they’re all silvered today. Sky floating, I am with sunny fingers reaching in and strumming strings of heart-shaped harp in doof doof time: fly higher, skim blue air in a swoop – I’m brimming, bubbling, overflowing. Whizzbang super day it is! …

A little fish.

Earlier this week, my husband got sick of the "weeds" [his word; I call them "chicken greens"] in our front yard, and he sought a quote to have a stranger pull them out. The quote equated to a rate of more than $70/hr. I was gobsmacked. This is more than I make copy editing. Then …