mailer._domainkey TXT "v=DKIM1; k=rsa; p=MIIBIjANBgkqhkiG9w0BAQEFAAOCAQ8AMIIBCgKCAQEApiAcO2jNcgSpfEFBUopPdonSDoMMhgE5t92IPk9hnnKQf4jNn/JSMwHxeOfcS7n8elEiXAXydKzzAlbHPRktWlxDOHSzMoq+kOG78d1aqu36G2bxfbwPGhBoUvvAJEtq3/4D+4YQZZxbTJizQPtuV0GsIqww+azvKgAs/elgMHQewPynshfVRi9l+vQCaXczvisGZxl17PYYdzAC0whamSaRx5kqwjFob8Jw/2DKubjtFnkPEGZ3AzOAFH02eTW1d9IdRKtLchc5KekECxzZiCshyo/ztgKJFM+y9GEXtn2IhJ/iJpguRCgct5bbyHgiztYbA9shvu/VRtQUhnMuiQIDAQAB;"
Craving a good read? Here's your chance! Download the full short story, "Family Treed." Trust me, it's a hilarious yet nail-biting night out that will leave you craving more!
I have always loved bridge pictures. I don’t know why. Maybe it’s because they are kind of an invitation to cross over to something new, or saying, “Come on over! We have hope over here!”
There is a lot of talk about the new normal. I don’t care if it’s new or old, I just want to walk over the bridge to something like normal.
We actually went out to dinner last week and sat in a restaurant with friends. It felt wonderful.
I will say, I have more appreciation for the little things, like a haircut or eating out. I had to drive north to pick up the hubs and as I was driving through the beautiful, empty countryside, with spring poking its head out, I thought, “I remember doing this.”
It felt normal, but also weird and like it had been years, not a couple of months.
I am so grateful for each tiny bit of normal and hope it comes for you all, too.
Perilously yours,
Pauline
By continuing to use the site, you agree to the use of cookies. more information
The cookie settings on this website are set to "allow cookies" to give you the best browsing experience possible. If you continue to use this website without changing your cookie settings or you click "Accept" below then you are consenting to this.