My friend called me after reading my last Red Tent Living Post. He is not just any friend, he is my friend whom I trust and love as a brother.
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cultivating the beautiful ordinary by sharing our tales and our tables
My friend called me after reading my last Red Tent Living Post. He is not just any friend, he is my friend whom I trust and love as a brother.
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“… and I can already tell I will adore you too.” Her words in an email caught me off guard since I had only met her once through a mutual friend, though nothing about her struck me as anything but sincere.
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A few months ago my piano teacher asked me to pick out a song in the key of B flat major.
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Ten minutes before I am even aware of the darkening clouds outside, I feel his brown eyes seeking my attention.
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We sat across the table from each other in a quaint hole-in-the-wall Japanese restaurant.
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Whose car is that? I wondered silently.
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“One day…” is a great writing prompt.
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This Christmas, I was rifling through some drawers in my bedroom in search of a gift I must have ‘hidden too well’ when I found a plastic baggie full of small, brown cards.
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“What happens to a dream deferred? Does it dry up like a raisin in the sun? Or does it explode?” ~ Langston Hughes
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We have boot scuff marks on our living room ceiling.
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