Fickleness of Memory


This morning has been stirring my memory. A run up our old tree-canopied street and this homemade cookbook; the Kansas wind is blowing out the dust of remembering and it no longer feels like a museum. My memory feels alive and hopeful and expectant again – even though it is “just so.” So I’ll make a few quirky quiches before the day heats up and relish thoughts of Madi and Kenan nearby, finding friends asleep on the old front porch, and the warmth of a full table of friends giggling over the pounding we were getting at the hands of my 8-year old card playing son.

I will embrace these rememberings and add to them.

So many thoughts…feelings rushing through the morning quiet; all because of quiche and a run down familiar roads.

Have a great day, friends. Cultivate your stories well.

Still searching for the North Star.


About allielousch

Engaged in everyday adventures and derring do.
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