Tuesday, May 22, 2018

I take pleasure in my transformations. I look quiet and consistent, but few know how many women there are in me.

Anaïs Nin

Stumbling around in my private journal this morning, so late—and limited—here.

Writing and reading for a good part of today and, later, a trip down the hill to the garden and the library.

Perhaps, too, a trip up another hill to make a decision about a piece of furniture.

Yeah, that’ll be fun, she says with sarcasm dripping like slobber. (Sorry for that visual.)

So, on this Tuesday that feels like Monday we begin again.



I’m a writer, reader, and creative. I thought by now I’d have things figured out, but I keep coming up with more questions. I think that’s okay. I’m here most mornings pondering ordinary things and the thin places where faith intersects.

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