Dear Sandals,

I saw you in the back of my closet the other day, sitting there all lonely and unloved, with your toefreeing straps and contoured sole, and my heart went out to you. You poor footwear, useable only a few months of the year, relegated to exile during the winter months when a few free moments would mean frostbite for the feet. You might feel ignored, trapped, a victim of the weather, but don't worry, my dear sandals. I still love you and am counting down the days until we can go on adventures together again.

Hugs & kisses,
B

Dear Every Happy Pop Song Ever,

You suddenly all make sense.

Hugs & kisses,
B

Dear Toes,

I get it. We're happy. And I know that you've wiggled whenever I'm happy since the summer I was born. Still. Today's joyful toe-wiggling is getting a little fidgety.

Okay, fine, you're right. I don't mind at all. When the first news I have in the morning is about a dear friend's engagement (and subsequent welcome request to be in her wedding too!), and the sun is shining and the air cool, and the sewing machine I bought second-hand over the weekend works, and I reach the half-way point in the project I'm writing, and ... well ... this day happens ... the most appropriate thing in the world is for my toes to wiggle out of control.

So wiggle away, dear ones. Wiggle away.

Hugs & kisses,
B