Yesterday the fog hung thick and low over the bay. So thick we couldn't see the mountains on the other side. And it was cold. It was a perfect day to hide in the house under big fluffy blankets.
I made soup. Homemade chicken vegetable soup. It finally turned out how I wanted it, with the perfect balance of spices and flavor. I even made extra to freeze for lunches at work.
I decided it was a good day to paint. Or rather, my hands were twitchy and I was restless until I finally gave in and picked up my paint brushes. And then my twitchy hands were calm and happy.
It was peaceful. And warming. Or maybe that was the soup.
This is one of my favorite poems, for two of my favorite littles. Naturally, I had to hang it in the hall, next to their pictures. My mom has a hallway in her house with an entire wall filled of pictures of her kids growing up. I'm sad that this is the reality of my wall.
I also painted the dog by accident. Well, he sorta painted himself. He kept crawling under the easel and trying to crawl into my lap. All 65 pounds of him. It's his own fault. But he does wear the pink ears quite well. A black collie with pink ears. It's quite a site.