we have lived in a hurricane of activity the past 72 hours. focused, but nevertheless chaotic. in my head right now, a small jeanne wears hip boots, and tromps around in a large vat of squishy oatmeal (steel cut, of course. and no sugar.) in search of words and phrases that can be pieced together to tell the story.
she finds no words or phrases, this tiny bootclad jeanne, only oats.
tomorrow, perhaps. after another 11 hour sleep, maybe then i’ll be past the oatmeal effect and will be back to tell you my . . . our . . . story.
I love oatmeal with honey and raisins. Because I thought you could use some random facts.
Sweet dreams, chica.
I am all ears, lady. Can't wait for you to get outta that oatmeal and tell your story! You're one of my favorite story-telling folks!
p.s. you would look so damn fine in hip boots, I just KNOW it!!
mine is fine with raspberries…
oh, how i'm looking forward to seeing what comes of this wading through oatmeal and what effect it has on you and your story…
xoxo
Cannot wait to hear the results of the wading. I bet your words will be that much better covered in oatmeal! =)