An encore of the delight that turning a year older used to bring. And a thrill that delight has returned. The new number may be 56 but the glee of being loved and celebrated just like at age five has been the best present ever.
It was our Christmas. And for us it happened twice a year because whoever's birthday it wasn't still got a couple of presents.
a troll doll
The rustling of packages being snuck into the house, the sneaking around the closets
a real doll baby
an owl bank
figuring out ways to open the presents without leaving a trace, the desperate wait on the eve of turning older, the early morning rush into the living room or the kitchen to
the pile, the pile, the wonderful wonderful pile of presents, everything we could of wanted or hoped for or wished for and even if it wasn't it was thrilling a day where abundance showered upon us.
a real bra
a tin rolling fish
There was no other time during the year this kind and delicious and rich.
a found poem via facebook pics - polar skeletons wander the thin ice soon a drowning doom. droughts and elephants die; dry meat in the sands for scavengers. in venice, the aqua alta higher...
8 hours ago