While I was at home this weekend, I couldn't get over my parents' lawn. It's an electrifying green color and the grass is thick and the hills beg to be rolled down. It's exactly how I remember the grass while growing up, but I think I convinced myself that my childhood memory had fictionally enhanced the alright, just so-so grass that I've seen in recent years past. But oh man. This lawn is begging for a game of touch football and firefly catching and bare, dirty feet.
Last week I finally bought myself an orchid, something I've wanted for years but just recently acted on. It's tall and graceful with four bright blooms that just so happen to match the new "plum seduction" nail polish on my toes perfectly. It's no sprawling yard of soft grass, but it still grounds me in a way that brings my mind back to "one step at a time"...
Inhale.
Exhale.
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