This story is not about Shabbat and how much I love Shabbat. (Oh I love it so) This story is about Sunday. The problem is, I can’t really tell one without the other. Because when you keep Shabbat, Sundays are SUNDAYS. On Friday evening (more like afternoon in the winter…
Of course, as it always is with me, the day I wake up feeling the most myself I have felt since March — the day I have an Angela Chase Blister In The Sun-esque spring in my step, the day I’m ready to sit down and write — I literally…
No, this isn’t a joke. My 5-year-old DID, in fact, ask me this question yesterday. The laughter was uncontrollable. So, I was tagged by Beth over at Thoughts Arrive Like Butterflies. And since I love me some midwestern girls, I cannot say no. And since I also love to take things up a notch…
