stops or starts

i had an unexpected nap that's made me feel slightly contrary, to be honest.

this afternoon, i sat in a room with eight other women and we all ooohed and ahhed over an abundance of pink things, baby rattles, and a little girl who i have seriously fallen in love with. although slightly less goat-ish this time around in her crying noises, i'm more than a bit certain that my nickname of 'little goat' might stick for a while, at least in my world.

my house smells like cinnamon and ginger, the remnants of a spice cake baking for easter dinner tomorrow floating through the air.

my thoughts are all scrambled ad incoherent and totally inappropriate, for the most part.

i feel like painting.

one part just needs the quiet

there's a strong wind from the east tonight.

i was convinced that there was a raccoon in my kitchen attic for all of five minutes because of the amount of wind blowing in through the vent in that part of the house. the window panes are all rattling in their frames, and i'm rethinking my wardrobe choice for tomorrow morning.

i have strange marks, scratches and bruises up and down my forearms. my hair smells like woodsmoke and wine. my feet are cold, with blisters in the arch of the right one, and my heart is warm. i've been drinking more coffee per day than any human logically, or sanely, should. i've been staying up too late under three and four and five blankets, and getting up too early to toast and jam.

james is coming home on monday, and mot a few weeks after that. in between my sister turns thirty and i'm going to candy violets for a cake i need to bake in june.

april feels like dancing this year.