this story has a lot to do with dog bites and misunderstandings and forgiveness and late night phone calls and prayers and contented hand holding and public hiking trail burials and that long sunday morning sitting in the armchair in front of the open window and the cool breeze and my fuzzy blanket and being so, so comfortable and more breakfasts and bacon and holding and letting go and a strange sense of peace and a logical sense of peace after intermittent anxiety and a thankfulness and a little bit of newness creeping into life.
it has a little to do with flowers and zucchini and ill-fated blueberry plants and long stretches of sidewalk and misbehaving vehicles and lost-and-found wallets and meteor showers and weekly reading parties of fantasy fiction and questionable taste in movies and video game animosity and seasonal blackberries and farm parties and friends' weddings and taking out the garbage and mushy cookies and approximately three dead animals.
it may well have to do with the state ferry system and our friends' back yard and fire pit and two sets of plane tickets and snow. on. christmas.
oh boy. i might just be in for it.
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