It already feels like full-on summer around here, but the roses remind us of the month it is. Across the street an elderly neighbor has been tending to her immodest beauties. I’ve yet to…
1. this kid. {eight years old.} 2. this rose. {for blooming right on time.} 3. this sewing machine. {and deciding to let her go and hunt for another}. 4. these totes. {lined up just…
Faye turns eight today. In fact, I’m writing these words at the very minute of the morning that I first held her tiny, bird-like body in my arms at St. Luke’s hospital. That minute…