Today we took a car ride to my parents house where I picked up my Mother's Day gift from their front porch (a beautiful wind chime with a family of four songbirds perched on a branch, two babies and their parents) and waved helplessly at my mother through her picture window. The toddler cried. She recognizes the neighborhood even from her rear-facing car seat which both amazes me and fills me with an awful sadness and guilt at bringing her along. As we pull away I'm explaining again about the nasty germ that's making people sick, and that we can't go play in Nana's house, but soon. Soon.
"I just want to give her one hug and then the germ won't catch me."
I buy her a pink frosted cake pop with sprinkles down the street and we sing improvised songs about the trees. And then we're past it.
I picked up a call from my bank today knowing it was a marketing call. The local branch manager asking how I'm doing. They're always there to help! Right around almost every corner! Make an appointment at any branch today and we'll fit you right in.
I replied, and even asked questions I didn't need the answers to. I think I'm lonelier than I thought I was.
I'm working on this mermaid hoop currently and I don't ever want to touch another color palette so long as I weave. It's lovely. So are you.
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