For a late March morning, today was especially cold; it felt like camping. Which was okay because it meant Zion was cold and wanted to sit extra long with me, and talk, and read, and giggle. Throughout the day, we both found ourselves here, doing this thing, in one of my favorite spots in the house.
We still don't know where we'll be exactly next year, which is fine for now, but I know I will miss this porch. I love sitting seven floors up, listening to the birds and traffic below as they twist and sing through the buildings, and I love when my kids curl into my lap. In the years to come and the memories to follow, this porch will be where my kids could fit under the blanket, sometimes two or three at a time, to find comfort from the hurts and struggles of the day. And it was be enough.
I love this porch.
But not the water. Here are the filters I switched out today. Guess which one is the new one?
But all day, this girl melted my heart and I wanted more and more of her. But she wanted to head outside to climb trees with her sister. So she did, before she left, I took this, as a reminder.
The day ended with Splittoon Literary Magazine Reading Night at the Bookworm. I asked Jeff Birdsong to go with me because I read one of my stories and I knew he would give honest feedback . . . even if it is a bit harsh. I'm glad he came. Not just for the critique either, but for the company. He's some of the best.
My story.
Bookends are the beginning and the end, the holding in place, secured and in order. A book or two might be taken, causing others to lean, but still, they hold. Because of the bookends. Without them, everything has a tendency to fall off the shelf.
Today, I had strong bookends.