Sometimes I long to be a bird. Not so much for flight even, but the intimate knowing of trees. For the spaces between branches to open up to me and for my view of the world to be framed with fragrant fir fronds.
Today is a beautiful sunny day. The moon is full, though out of sight now, and it feels lucky. I’m about to try a new approach in freeing myself from my current job and its shitty hours: praying to the universe for a windfall. Frankly it seems more fruitful and pleasing than a desperate hunt.
We awoke in our new tiny bedroom to so much light. And cats miaowling (one cat, anyway- those who’ve met her know which one). Yesterday morning I accidentally opened a jar of plum chutney for Jer’s toast instead of the lovely jam we were expecting. Today he left without breakfast. Hmmm.