There’s no nice way to follow a super serious post. So I found myself digging through my 2012 DPP folders for something random. And random was exactly what I found. I’ve never snapped a shot of the inside of my kitchen cupboards (at least I don’t think I have, feel free to prove me wrong) and I’m slightly pleased that the glasses don’t look as haphazard as I thought they did. There’s actually a little balance and interesting composition going on here. Nice.
I’ve been in a moody, navel-gazing funk the last several days and it’s shaking off slowly. I am incredibly appreciative of your affirming and helpful words. I’ve gotten texts and emails that show that I truly know the best people in the world.
Local friends know that I have more going on than foster care. I’m gearing up to do this again quite soon—on the left elbow this time—and the stress has been a bit much. In bright moments I can acknowledge that someday as soon as three months down the road my left arm will be strong again and I can recognize the goodness of foster parenting, even for a short period of time. But to be honest, I identify more with Pollyanna on her sickbed, all frowns and pouts, than I do with her in the majority of the movie. (I love me some Hayley Mills.)