she gathers her courage like harvest

my heart is full of yearning.

for my own place, where i can build a blanket fort over my seating area. where i can come home from work, curl up in leggings and a sweater and a blanket, and watch a movie alone with a cup of tea. where i can sit by my windows with a bottle of blueberry wine or a plate of fruit. sharing a space with k would be nice too. maybe a hedgehog. these are things i think about.

for long car trips out to go camping in a beautiful place somewhere near the sea. i would bring a mason jar full of dry beans and make us a delicious bean stew. then apples by the sea and guitar-playing by a campfire.

for solitude, or quiet moments with just a small handful of others, but solitude, solitude, solitude. and slow paces and plenty of time and space to think and stretch my heart mind body.

i want to go to the sea-shore this spring. i want to pack a shoulder-bag with a bathing suit, flowing cotton dress, sunblock and body lotion, apples and berries and bread and lemonade, and a good thick book and a good thick towel, and my wide-brimmed hat and parasol. sit on the shore and read for hours, eating an apple when i get hungry, slathered in sunblock, hiding under my hat and parasol. then swim and swim and swim in the sun, then eat bread while laughing on the sand with you. i miss salty winds and that pull deep down inside that happens when you go to the ocean. i have been to the lake-shore recently, and that's fun, but the ocean is such a different beast. i love her and i miss her.

unwinding tonight with a glass of wine and the cast commentary on the two towers, laughing and laughing at their humor and missing the camaraderie of an acting ensemble.