Photos are the best prompts!
Just over a year ago I met this kind of flower in a field somewhere in western Massachusetts (deja vu) and at that precise moment I fell in love with the East Coast. We shall see if this love lasts through the winter. How fortunate I am to walk paths lined with lace.
My roommate and her friend have very festive hair. Jenn, the girl with the pink and blue 'do (like Jamaican ice), says that her hair becomes elastic when wet, like stretchy spaghetti. At night, my roommate wraps her curls in a lovely lavender bonnet because they can't touch cotton.
I taped family photos next to my pillow. Somehow, they convince me that the sum of flawed parts was perfect. Favorite ones: watching Amy Tan's Shagua with my brother in Li Ma's room; riding scooters with Sarah; my brother's plastic firetruck bed (the sleepovers began then); and sitting in Dad's lap in Ann Arbor.
These two come as a set. Red umbrella and piano books in hand, I set out to post a letter to Samuel and practice for an afternoon. Rain is the world's eyeliner, darkening pretty lines. Also, New England is full of graveyards (Sometimes I feel like my writing has regressed to a fifth-grade level).
My Birkenclogs get wet and so do my toes :(
Three yellow boxes on black: this is Carr Hall, site of Midd Inter-Varsity Christian Fellowship, after Sunday praise night. Two professors attend the meetings--two of hundreds. But even though the light at Midd is small, it's bright.
Dad taking a selfie (...) at SFO with mom before she left for Taipei. She surprised me by writing a beautiful poem for her own dad:
My first "essay" for German class, entitled 'Waggelpudding,' (which means Jello if I spelled it correctly). Ich bin nicht Berliner!
A happy place in the basement of Sunderland Language Center. Nobody goes there in the evenings and on weekends. I love the lamp's company. There's a sign taped to the stand that says "Please do not move the bench because it's hard to play while sitting on the floor."
At 4:45 today a handful of Wonnacott Commons members piled into a white van and barreled through the countryside. We hiked to the top of Snake Mountain, where we feasted on Cabot cheese, cider jam, apples, three loaves and no fishes.
And that's the Middlebury story so far!
Thank you, God, for every day.