The closeness to others is beautiful, as is the possibility of finding space to be on your own when you need it.
Their Lego city is imaginative. Castles, modified Hobbit homes, and modern shopping plazas with headless mannequins, all on the same street. City residents get around on zip lines and in horse-drawn carriages. Nothing has developed in exact accordance with the instructions in each Lego box.
A laden table, a lawn in the dark, lights at the window.
I hope she doesn't lose her desire to fill up notebook pages with characters and ideas.
Tigger, bouncing around the Hundred Acre Wood, entrances him. As we watch, he turns to me with a slow smile, pleased to see that I'm also enjoying his favorite cartoon character.
When she finds someone who listens, she talks until she's breathless - thoughts, dreams, books read, plans for the coming days and weeks.
I'm not surprised that she doesn't try one of the burgers; maybe it would be too much of a concession.
Plump strawberries cooling in a blue glass bowl by the window.
No moon out, only city lights.
Change usually occurs in increments. It takes years to get worn away. It also takes years to build yourself into the sort of person you want to be. I'm impatient about incremental positive change, but there's really no substitute for it.
Sensory overload for the dog, who is sniffing, whining, and panting at the people and the food.
Waking up into another dreamscape.
Lists can help you get things done, or make you complacent (look at how productive I am, making this list…)
The health insurance company has set up a hotline to answer questions about the ACA. There's a long wait time. I begin to wonder if the customer service agents are all huddled in the middle of their office, puffing away on cigarettes and twitching every time a phone rings.