Writer on the Oregon coast. Lover of nature, poetry, and coffee!
Feel free to browse, skim + comment away.
I love to write about my travels, lovers + neuro-divergence. Thanks for your support!
We drove up the snowy, winding road towards the cozy A-frame cabin. It had only been a year since we had last been, but it felt like ages. I felt so much older. I didn't think we would ever make it off the meandering road. But, despite my Vertigo kicking in, and the beginning signs of a hangry episode, the bare trees and perfectly powdered rooves transported me into a Rockwell painting. I sipped on thick, pipping hot cocoa while Eleanor searched the radio for a station that wasn't playing Mariah Carey every hour.
i'm joining an adult tap class?
Today, at the coffee shop I barista for, a woman asked to put up some new posters promoting the open classes for this fall. Dance classes. I was very happy to display them, as my sisters and I grew up dancing in a small community like the one I recently moved to. I glanced over the list while taping the papers to our windows and something weird happened. I think I randomly decided to join an adult tap class...