Letting Life Lead
From: The Daily Prompt
The Prompt: Remember when you wrote down your first thought this morning? Good. Now write about it.
A Response That Moved My Mood: Drops of Ink
I no longer have my own thoughts in the morning, not since having my first child five years ago. These days the three year old, who is one of those morning people, buzzes in my ear, “Waydup, Momma. Waydup. I havda yoguck? Yoguck, pweesh. Yoguck!” It is all I can do to translate into English and mumble, “Later. Go back to sleep.” Then the thinking starts and a decision is made. What we are having for breakfast is leftover soup. That’s right soup for breakfast and maybe we’ll have breakfast for dinner because this is our house and we can eat any food whenever we want. Stupid rules need not apply. By now the gift of oblivion or the relief of dreams is gone and I can only marvel at all the painful sleep sand in my right eye, my full bladder, and the weight of the cat on my back. First light? More like first plight.
writing, traveling, and tap dancing around town.
Leave your fear of the dark at the door, suspend your disbelief and come on in...
Writer and procrastinator
Warden of Words // Shaper of Stories
Bewitching Journey of Words to Meaning
This is the story of building a cottage , the people and the place. Its a reminder of hope and love.
Just your average PhD student using the internet to enhance their CV
Pen to paper
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