Monday, August 3, 2015

A Monday In August

(This is my first blog post in almost a year as I have not had a computer for eleven months.  Thank you for waiting for me and I hope you will continue to follow along with me here ♥)

Figs and hot pink carnations, bug bites on our legs, all the stuffed unicorns in the world, walking through the field and touching the tall grass with the tips of our fingers.  Our world is honey-golden and sweet.  We both eat popsicles in the afternoon and run to the front of the house when we hear a car door shut, jumping up and down, shouting "Dada's home!" over and over again.  Sometimes he walks in with a bouquet in his hand, and I fall into his arms, ducking my head against his chest and thoughts of our golden world swirl around in my head.

Here is an update on Rosalita:
She is almost three.  She tells me over and over that her favorite color is pink and my favorite color is white.  She will only wear tutus and princess dresses and will tell you very loudly that she "absolutely will not" wear anything else.  She packs up her little pink suitcase full of toys and casually tells me she is "going on holiday".  She has a stubborn streak and sometimes gets very grumpy until I am frustrated up to my ears and breathing feels like needles.  But before we go to sleep every night, she tells me I am her very best friend.  I hold her as tight as I can and tell her she is my very best friend, too.  Then, she kisses me on the forehead and says "goodnight, sleep tight".

I've been reading and re-reading Brautigan, wandering the halls in my underwear, buying all the hydrangeas in the world, listening to sweet hot jazz on the old dusty record player, and always, playing with flowers.  This summer my star flower was the angel's choir poppy.  i picked each one and pressed them in my favorite Rachel Ashwell book in between pages filled with golden glitter.

The house is always messy and there are toys and little girl dresses everywhere-- things are chaotic and challenging but during the afternoon the light shines through the windows and things seem brighter than they ever did before.  I'm not up and I'm not down but I'm somewhere in between which is a very comfortable and happy place to be.

 ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀


  1. πŸ˜ŠπŸ’— oh how I've missed these and your words that go with it! It's so nice to read these and hear little stories about rosa!

  2. I'm so glad you were able to write this!!! Beautiful, as always. My heart is still bursting from hearing Ros say "It's my holiday!".