When I close my laptop and the house isn’t stirring, not even a cat (or a teen), tiredx10 from walking the crazy girl earlier in the day, bleary-eyed from revising topics I must believe in because I keep on writing and keep on revising them, I sit before our tree decorated in memories and it reminds me to breathe.
Yours in it-must-be-time-for-bed,
PB



Huh–our tree looks like it’s tumbling. I kind of like that.