Friday dreams

Last night I had a dream of the most beautiful wedding. An old house. Mason jars turned into humming bird feeders. Tables lined up in a partially enclosed planting house all arranged with flowers. It was lush and green and the bridesmaids wore deep pink dresses. They came in singing, laughing – so overjoyed to be there. It wasn’t my wedding, I hardly even remember what the bride looked like. Just the gardens where everyone was sitting. And then I wound up in my father’s kitchen sweeping crumbs frantically hoping no one would see them. Browned, dead petals littered the floor and I swept so hard and fast nothing piled nicely. I just kept sweeping things around the floor.

I just noticed that I’m about to eat an apple from New Zealand. A Cripps Pink only here they sell them as Pink Ladies.

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