14 April 2019


thinking this morning of the trimmings of an easter basket, making my own natural dyes, iris apfel, falling asleep to rainfall tonight, where in the house a certain itty bitty someone may have squirreled away our apple tv remote, what louis armstrong might have been thinking of when he sang "stardust," nursing my baby under the cherry blossoms and the sacred place where spring and my motherhood intersect, a dear friend three thousand miles away spending this sunday laboring to bring her baby earthside, how it's another glorious day to spend with our very own sunday boy. holy, holy, holy.

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