February 23, 2025
A slow day, a comfort day.

photo by David 

 I took no real photos today.  I didn't walk outside the house at all. Did three loads of laundry, cooked dinner for me and Diane, organized the house plants, and napped.   


I've been thinking about 100 word stories.  

We woke up and the sun was shining and the bedroom was bright.  It was my birthday and I was waking up with a nine year old who'd come for a sleep over the night before.  

"I know what we should do for your birthday, Lindy, we should go for a feather hunt at the cove.  Let's go eat breakfast out and go take a walk at the Cove."   I couldn't imagine a better way to celebrate my birthday than to go for a feather hunt.  I don't think I'd ever declared a feather hunt before. Sure I'd found feathers walking in the cove before, but I'd never claimed such intention.  EJ claimed it with strength, that's what we should do on this day of my birth.  So we did just that.

After waiting for 45 minutes for our pancakes and chowing them down, we drove over to the cove.  I had a feeling we'd walk like the characters in Winnie the Pooh, marching with big boots on.  It was April and wet and smelled of soil and water.  EJ took off running down the river's edge and I walked, intentionally looking down for feathers.

"What kind of feathers can we find, EJ?"   

"Hawk, eagle, seagulls and swans."  We'd seen all those birds here many times before.  It made sense that we'd find one of them.   And now I really wanted to find one, if only for the symbolism to lead me into my next year.   

That is already 246 words.  I have to change my story structure, I have to think more compact.  How about the day Geoff and I broke the bed in the fancy hotel in France?  I'll try again tomorrow, meanwhile, here's a swan from my last birthday. 




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