One of the very bestest things about my new home: the windowsill above the kitchen sink. I’ve got an assortment of colorful vases in the sill, putting fresh garden flowers in them each day. The window looks out on to my back porch, which is starting to look a bit less cluttered with boxes and dead plants. It is the perfect place to sit in the evening and meditate by candelight.
Can I just say that I’ve started singing when I wash the dishes? Such joy!
Queue 80’s music…
I was on a long bike ride. A ride across the country. I remember pedaling and pedaling. Not really feeling tired, but knowing that I needed to conserve my energy because I would be pedaling for days on end.
My biggest concern, however, was getting to Chicago ASAP. And knowing that once I got there I would have a hard time finding my way around the city on bike.
The strangest part, perhaps, was that the only person that I met up with on my bike trek was my Dad. I think he was in Chicago, but I’m not sure (that part of the dream is a bit foggy now). He was living in a seedy apartment with faux wood paneling.
Weird.
