paintedpinkmountains

I rarely, if ever, paint my fingernails, but I'm not really happy in the summertime unless my toes are painted too. It's tough to find environmentally (and people) friendly nail polish. I love fresh flowers in a beautiful vase. I love how yoga makes me feel, but I only end up doing it on average about once a month. I have a large collection of poetry that I have written over the years. Maybe someday I'll do something with it. I love writing utensils, mostly pens. And paper, and notebooks, and I love writing by hand. I also love books. Especially used books, old books, books that have been touched, enjoyed and show just how much. Something about the texture of a worn hardcover book in my hands. I thought about numbering this list, but decided not to. I could still change my mind and add numbers, or bullet points. I have a hard time making decisions. I'm a Libra, in many many ways. I am always very quick to point out grammatical or punctuation errors or typos in other...

The classic Road Runner. A car that has become rusty and is falling to pieces from sitting lonely for years in my parents driveway, quite neglected due to lack of time to give it the attention it needs. Yet when I look at that car, I still see the sprawling red stripe running back across it's shiny, beautiful black painted surface. I still hear the deep rumbling of it's engine, humming softly af first, but getting louder, feeling it in my bones as it gets closer, closer to the driveway. Then the gentle revving just before being shut off outside the garage. I knew within seconds that my daddy would be walking through the door, usually pulling a candy bar out of his pocket for his only little girl. Oh how I miss you daddy, what I wouldn't give to feel the bristle of your cheeks on my face as you lean down to hug me close. I bugged you for years, daddy, to get rid of that car. A car that you "would like to fix up someday". Well, it might take me years, but if...