New Year, New Blog
Maizy Grace stole the chaise side of the couch again. She's curled up tight, but a 75-pound golden retriever curled up tight is still a fairly large mass taking the spot on the couch where I could be stretching out my legs.
Her warm face is cozily shoved into my leg as she exhales the deep, sighing breaths that only come from a dog curled up with her human. {She just opened her eyes and raised an eyebrow at me. Get on with it Mama, I'm not the story you're meant to be telling tonight.}
She's right. But I don't know what story I'm meant to be telling tonight. I only know that it's time to get back to writing my story. Time to create.
Air and light and time and space....
2017 was glorious. Awful. Exhilarating. Depressing. Frightening. Peaceful. Tumultuous. Heartbreaking. It was the longest year I ever lived.
If you'd have told me on January 8th, 2017 that one year from now, I'd be living in Chico, finishing up my teaching credential program, drinking Costco diet green tea to make it through a long day with my teenagers, and blow drying my golden retriever's hair to prevent her wet dog odor from taking over my quaint little one-bedroom apartment, I'd have laughed you out of town.
What is life?
Maybe we'll figure it out tomorrow. Or at least figure out which story to tell first.
Her warm face is cozily shoved into my leg as she exhales the deep, sighing breaths that only come from a dog curled up with her human. {She just opened her eyes and raised an eyebrow at me. Get on with it Mama, I'm not the story you're meant to be telling tonight.}
She's right. But I don't know what story I'm meant to be telling tonight. I only know that it's time to get back to writing my story. Time to create.
Air and light and time and space....
2017 was glorious. Awful. Exhilarating. Depressing. Frightening. Peaceful. Tumultuous. Heartbreaking. It was the longest year I ever lived.
If you'd have told me on January 8th, 2017 that one year from now, I'd be living in Chico, finishing up my teaching credential program, drinking Costco diet green tea to make it through a long day with my teenagers, and blow drying my golden retriever's hair to prevent her wet dog odor from taking over my quaint little one-bedroom apartment, I'd have laughed you out of town.
What is life?
Maybe we'll figure it out tomorrow. Or at least figure out which story to tell first.
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