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flax-golden tales: broken-wing butterfly

broken-wing butterfly

I worry hope will crush me, the way love has so many times before.

Are they so different, hope and love? O & E in the same place, half of the other in each word.

Both swimming in unknowns.

I’ve been through the big changes. These ones should seem easier in comparison, I should be more prepared, but they don’t and I’m not.

Sometimes I feel like a broken-wing butterfly, clinging to a window screen.

Afraid to let go. Afraid to stay.

Wondering how much wing is enough to fly.

About flax-golden tales. Photo by Carey Farrell. Text by Erin Morgenstern.

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weekend & kitten in a box

Had a weekend that include lots of reading and lots of food. Made blueberry pomegranate sangria. Got chocolate cayenne ice cream when we went out for dinner. Took a handful of photos on the way home, including the twilight church bell above with the fantastical purple sky.

Finished reading Ash & The Book Thief, so apparently the reading section of my brain is no longer broken. And today I have a new box of books, after shenanigans on Saturday with lying USPS tracking.

Am particularly excited because this box had this in it:

No, not Tessa. I’ve wanted to read Lisa Brackmann’s Rock Paper Tiger ever since Nathan Bransford posted the gorgeous cover on his blog ages ago, and that was before I realized I actually knew Lisa from Absolute Write, so needless to say I am extra special excited to finally have it, even if it’s already covered in kitty fuzz.

Tessa, of course, prefers the box.

Obviously.

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