woman horizontal | the sound of him

he wakes whistling, thrilled by the zipping wind he conjures and reshapes into sharps and flats snaps a crisp unpatterned rhythm with supple-skinned thumb and middle finger (wiped dry between refrains) flickering his wrist for triumphant emphasis mutters a play-by-play commentary to an imagined audience of rapt gamers punctuated with shrieks, chides, wails and groans…

Zen(x)Mas: Our Very First Family Holiday Card

Originally posted on dhamma for mama*:
No tree. No lights. No wrapping paper or gifts (from mom or dad, at least). No Santa. And, this year, no snow… Which is, as my 4 year-old son declared to his dad this morning, the sole factor dictating whether this “quintessential” winter holiday can happen (especially for us…