I know I’ve posted infrequently lately. It’s not because nothing is happening. Au contraire, so much has happened, I am barely beginning to process it. Every time I try to talk about something else, all this pain just gushes out like blood from an arterial puncture. I haven’t wanted to get bloodstains on my blog, so I’ve been keeping it offline. I’ll continue to do that, but I did want to put up a post to say hi, and I’m still alive, and maybe at some point I’ll get back to posting regularly.
Meanwhile, I’ll leave you with one of the bright spots in my life: B in a pot.
It reminds me a bit of how I loved pillow forts and any small, secret-feeling space as a kid. Also of how my sister slept in a cardboard box for a year when we were kids – her “cougar lair.” There’s something special about a small, safe space when you’re a kid.
And, incidentally, I was a very small kid. So I fit in all sorts of unexpectedly tiny places, which made me great at hide-and-seek. Once I hid between a wall and a quilt hanging on the wall. Once I hid in a tiny cabinet behind all the stuff inside. I hid between the headboard of a bed and the wall. Don’t bet against me in hide-and-seek.