cultivating the beautiful ordinary by sharing our tales and our tables
I didn’t realize how long I had been holding my breath. The sun beams through the oval-shaped window of the plane. I consider if an oval is the correct shape to attribute to an aircraft window, and I reflect on my six-year-old daughter’s tears yesterday at not getting her shapes correct in online school. I…
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It was way past my bedtime as I drove to pick up my husband from the airport, and I was surprised to find nerves gnawing away in the pit of my stomach. My mind was racing as I drove the familiar route, wondering aloud what reuniting would look like after seven months apart.
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