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Chill and warmth

The sky is so brilliant, Hazy and white. The shine of the sun, the snow so bright. The wind in January chills my bones, Makes me long for the comfort of hearth and home Golden glow, and soft warm hugs Love of a family, My cute little bugs.
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Almost three

Wee winsome little one, Why are you so much work? Your charm masks your strong will, Your need to be the boss, Until someone else comes along, then you must have all the things, all the time. You share only on your terms, And say I love you when you’re in trouble You know just…
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Time warp

It was a weird day today. I remembered to write 2018 in everything, which is way ahead of schedule for me, but I kept thinking it was Thursday. As much as I love holidays, being off my schedule always makes me feel like it’s a day later than it really is. Everyone else feels like…
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New Years intentions

It’s the second day of the year, and I already have serious reservations about the list of “intentions” I’ve come up with for 2018. So far, it looks like I need to find about six more hours per day to accomplish my list. With that extra time, I should be able to work a solid…
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Cozy

A cold front has crossed my path, bringing shivers to my soul. Slivers of ice drift across the road, hiding the road like it hides the memory of warmth form the summer so long ago And yet, When I arrive to a home full of golden warmth and light, Laughter and hugs greet me, Happy…
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Adrift

Today I spent only part of the day at work. But I must confess, it felt like so much more. To hold the hand of someone when they’ve lost the love of their life, to just be there, is one of the most difficult parts of my job. Sometimes I feel like giving bad news…
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Aftermath

December 26th. The day after the ribbons and bows have been swept away and the leftovers nearly stacked in containers in the fridge. Like any big event, the aftermath is sometimes uncomfortable. I have a proclivity for introspection, and find myself wondering why the feeling of a balloon bursting so often follows the build up…
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December 25th

I’m lying in bed, stuffed to the gills, wondering how it’s even possible to eat as many items as we did tonight. It reminds me of a satire piece in a medical journal a few years ago about the “extra stomach” for desserts that appears, referred to as “the pot au creme.” While it may…


