Thanks to all who commented on Monday's post. Life is going on. We have moments of teariness together. We talk about what we're going to plant under those birch trees in spring, to remember her with. "Something that's fluffy, like her tail," was Patrick's suggestion. Life is going on.
On Sunday, we visited my parents, and their woods.
I love their woods. When I'm a famous writer (which will happen, right?) I'm going to buy some land near our house so we have a place to hike, just us. A girl can dream.
Oh, Catskills.
My parents sent us home with treasure, as they usually do. And, because of all the rain we've had, I've been able to spend some time inside, arranging and rearranging, creating function from chaos. Creating beauty, even, in some corners where serendipity has showed its hand. What a process, this home-making business. Pictures Monday.
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