A few weeks back, I temporarily parked these bulbs in my paternal grandmother’s wooden salad bowl. And then I fell in love with the hopeful “arrangement.”
It’s such a big week here, y’all. Two family birthdays, Mom has major surgery, and it’s deadline week for me with the little community paper. Resting here in the guest room and typing on a Sunday morning, I feel a whole lot like those bulbs–all that potential energy wound up tight inside but so much work to do in order to blossom.
What I really want to do is take a nap.