A red one.

If I remember correctly,
 I wore a ribbon tied in a bow for at least an entire 365 days when I was 17.

Just a little ribbon transformed into something so, so cute.
So, whoever thought of tying a bow around a man's collar:
God bless you. 
Whoever you are, wherever you are, you must have the cutest name.
And your grandpa must always look cute, too. 
A closet full of so many cute ones.
Polka dots.
Paisley.

Bowties.
Love making them. Love finding them in cute shops.

But when my darling boy wears a bow tie,

holy smokes.

I love adjusting it.

I love matching it with my red dress.

Just me, my man and that little bow.

I am one blessed, blessed woman.

Lately when I'm just walking down the street, sunlight bursting in the clear blue sky, warm face (warm heart), all of a sudden just so very content. 

And can I just point out, it's red.
A red bow tie.
And patterned.
I just can't even.

Rainy Days.

Over the past few weeks, each morning around 9 am, several little hands knock on my front door. The Fairies have arrived for day camp. Usually they are adorned with wings, special things they've found in their yards, beautiful little dresses and so many new insights (mostly about love, magic and sometimes how those are the same thing, really). The days have been full of sunshine, nestled beside Lake of the Woods. Needless to say, it is pure magic.

On Wednesday, the Sunshine was nowhere to be found.

It was cold.

And oh, so rainy.

Despite the weather, we put up our hoods and made the treck down so many hills, across many puddle-filled streets until we came upon this bridge.

In the wagon, under soggy towels and sweaters were 42 colours of bright chalk.

So, the fairies began.

Cars would slowly pass under our secret bridge, 

smile and wave.
Others would speed by, leaving the fairies 
drenched and giggling on the sidewalk.

Soon their fingers were rainbows 

and their wet little fairy wings were much too cold.

And we went home.

Later, as I put their clothes in the dryer, 

I thought of that magical place we had created.

On a cold, rainy day.

Those fairies,
leaving the world a better place
than when they found it.

An Honourary Gypsy.

For the past two-ish weeks...

I've stayed at five different apartments, slept on two air-mattresses, 1 couch and 2 beds, went to two states, walked the streets in my nightgown, used my trunk as a closet, found my to-do lists blowing in the wind on sidewalks, loved sunflower-honey bread with peanut butter, walked down University Avenue with my big ruffle-pink pillow, kept my heart wide open and had the time of my life. 

When people asked me what I've been up to lately I replied:

"Well, I'm sort of a Gypsy lately. Just visiting this town and being with my man."

People seemed to like that.

I love periods of my life like this.

I could go this way or that.

I belonged to the brightest stars,

with the dearest friends,

and the most delightful times.

Blessed.

The miracle of people taking care of each other

and the tender mercy that wherever you are,

Heavenly Father surely does remember you

...is something this honourary Gyspy holds so dear.