Sunshine on my shoulders
“Bowling was a hoot!” Thalia twirled. “Weren’t you impressed by Typist’s attitude? After about five frames, with a total pin count of zero, she finally knocked one down! Telling Donna she was only in competition with herself, she didn’t get flustered even when the alley’s attendant came to watch and offer tips.”
“I know, right?” Calliope confirmed.
“Typist went on to roll three games with scores of 60, 104, and dun-dunna-dah! 113.” Urania added. “A little better each time. Now Donna is tossing around a suggestion to get the pair on a softball team.”
“Sounds fascinating!” Thalia pretended to throw a ball using the form the kid tried to instill in Typist. “Funny that Donna is suggesting softball. Didn’t we see some girls practicing pop fly catches at the park on our way to yoga? Typist thought it looked like fun.”
“She’ll be terrible,” Calliope worried the zipper on her fleece. “She can’t bat, catch, or throw.”
“We’ll not know unless she tries.”
Words from Typist:
Meaty blood! Meaty blood! Meaty blood!
Thanks for all of your well wishes! Blood draw is at 11:30.
Thanks also for sharing your sacred spaces in yesterday’s comments. One dear reader went on to tell me more in a private message… about the area and neighbors surrounding her sacred space home. Her enthusiasm led me to ask, “So your sacred space expands to places where you connect with your neighbors?”
She replied, “Yes!!!”
What if our sacred space is inside of us… and we can take it wherever we go?