An old friend was visting me. She was going to be 42 weeks pregnant and induced on the day she returned home. We were shopping in an old junk/sewing store and she found a rancid bottle of castor oil which she planned to take. And then I found myself on an airplane with a soft suitcase full of chicks. The flight attendant was looking at me askance (because of the peeping) and then I woke up.
And now you know where my mental energy is going these days. Post-dates pregnancy and chickens.
Quinoa muffins in the oven. Honey butter whipped. And all I can think about is the hiss of oceans meeting the grit of shore. The suck and pull of the tides – leaving one standing, tilting, in wells of salty water.