In My Shoes

Last night I was making dinner when I looked over my shoulder and thought to myself, “Who is that little girl stomping through the kitchen in my shoes?”

I wasn’t so much questioning her identity as I was marveling at her very existence. In that moment, as I diced an onion for the horseradish pasta salad I was craving, the October air was abnormally warm in its gentle push through the windows, and the waning daylight was natural and calm. It wasn’t unlike other occasions over the past thirty years when I felt relaxed and unattached to time. The difference between last night and the rest of my life was the girl with tiny feet passing through my periphery in very, very big shoes.

Read more here. . .


Note: Believe it or not, I will be participating in NaBloPoMo again this year. It stands for National Blog Posting Month and it entails publishing a new blog entry every day during November. I pulled it off last year and I plan to do it again this time around. Coming off roughly 3 months of non-posting, I realize that it's often feast or famine around here. But such is life.