On the way back to my house, the pounding fear began to radiate out from my abdomen and make my hands tremble.

Unexpected discovery. Humbling, yes, but also funny. It’s creative. Who knew this cottage would be so perfect for helping people. . .

It sits there, in it's place, torturing me. I know I need to write. I know I need to confess. I leave it there with its accusing black sc

A beautiful mess? That is an oxymoron of my hyper organized personality. My brain wants to believe messes mean one thing. .