Between you and me....so me and me since I'm sure nobody actually looks at this stuff...it's my sisters who actually take the time to post things on my blog page...hence the grammatical errors! hahaha just kidding Katie-
but it's so late and there is only a small window of time when I can fall asleep and that passed about an hour ago so I'm up and I'll be up for awhile. I'm thinking a lot lately and laughing even more. Today I was laughing so hard that my cheeks were hurting. One of my clients was saying the funniest things and she had me almost in tears. I enjoy my job- I enjoy listening to people and doing what I can to help- it isn't a lot but it's something. I wrote the most beautiful children's story about England today. It was an assignment for class but it was beautiful to me...I think it's cause the whole mission thing and then the whole falling in love there thing and then the whole it's a beautiful place thing- but yeah, this is actually me for once saying Hi to my sisters who check this out in the hopes that one day I might actually start looking. Love YOu two Poo Poos!
My house has stars. Father is a star because he comes home from long days and washes oil off his calloused hands before supper. Mum is a star because she keeps me and sister blissful and childish as she waits for Father to return. Father walks up the steep lane to our house. It sits at the top, tucked in between two other houses with which we share paper thin walls. Paper thin walls! I often hear Nigel next door reading aloud from The Wind and the Willows. But rows of houses are like rows of people, close and family-like so I don’t mind his narration. Our gate is what makes our garden our own, alive with hyacinths, roses, violets, and Daisies. The rain keeps our flowers thirst-free and vibrant. When it rains, I sit inside by the warm fire and listen to the pitter patter against the roof. I look through the windowpane, watching the green meadows turning even greener! Oh how I wish to be out in the rain, trudging along in my wellies as I chase after sister. Painted with mud and laughing. But instead, I am to stay inside and iron my trousers, my blouses, my bed sheets! Why do bed sheets need to be ironed? Will I not wrinkle them tonight as I toss and turn between my sheets? Will they not get creased as my legs creep across the invisible line in our bed to where sister also squirms? We restlessly gaze out our window at the beautiful diamond-like stars sprinkled across the night sky. Sister sparkles like those sky jewels. Sister is a star. I shine and light up in this space. I am a star. My house has stars.
