What I found inside this little box were 10 different products. Some sample sizes, but almost all were full sized products, just as you’d purchase them retail. If you’ve ever gotten free samples in the mail, you realize that was a pleasant surprise.
One thousand words
Perspective shuffles, per photo
New images appear.
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#OnFridaysWeHaiku
#haiku #senryu #perspective
#SpringBreak #NYC
My father HATES snakes. Rather like Indiana Jones hates snakes, only more vehemently. When I was little, a black snake got into our farm house. I vividly recall his unrelenting flow of profanity as my dad chased it around the first floor, while my mom, brother, and I looked down from the upstairs hall. Without going into gory details, the snake…
Inspired by Disney’s Winnie the Pooh, these photos of a torrential July thunderstorm, and this week’s prompt of “rain”
what’s to be found delving into the mind
some thing worth the grief or just wasted time
some greater truths on which to expound
or just careless breadcrumbs cast over the ground
I know just enough of the great wide world to see I’ve seen quite little. I have met so many people of different types but still, small a sample. I’ve lived broadly enough to understand how narrow my experience. Traveling expands the eyes, the mind, and the heart – Infinitely open. This is #Day18 of…
Balance. The word tumbles through her mind, like shoes in a dryer, as she washes down her morning meds with cold coffee. What am I doing? Nothing. No, I’m sitting here watching the rain, trying to sort out what to do, and wishing I could do nothing. Read all day. Stay in bed and…
This morning we played Peek-a-Boo with our friend the Moon. My son and I, giggling softly, wide-eyed in the quiet room. Mister Moon slid swiftly across the Western sky Ducking behind tall buildings – I’ve never seen him be so spry! “Hey, Moonie, I still see you!” My Boy called out in glee. For while…
I’ve mentioned this a time or two before, but music has always been my first love. Not that I’m musically inclined, mind you. My memories have nevertheless always seemed inseparable from the soundtrack. At this point, I could ramble on in 20 directions – each path a song, each inspiring another story, or chapter, or…
My mama called me Sissy in a Southern way to this day, I miss. I protested once: Mommy, please don’t call me that – I spat – I hate it! In her eyes I saw She took my words literally to heart – like a knife. No salve could I find. The wound – too…
Mother of Serendipity 