So, I live in this little quaint cottage. Near the water. A slice of quiet perfection. I feel safe here in this space. Free to write my blog and my stories. To create. There's a story I'm writing now. It's actually a children's story for adults. Because I think that's one thing that's missing. That as we get older and conform to rules, we lose our childhood when we were free to look foolish and not care what the world had to say. Excuses were built into the system. "Well, she's just a child, she'll learn". And learn we did... except it was at the expense of ourselves. And the unrefined, joyful expressions that seemed to just be there. Even on bad days.
I think it's time to strike a balance between expectations and dizzy drops, remember those? You'd spin around and around until you literally dropped. Of course today, I'd probably throw up from that.
Do you remember how heavenly a new box of Crayola's smelled? Or how cold Play-Do felt oozing through your fingers fresh out of the jar? Did you ever take a nibble? I did.

Some memories have to stay where they are. I can't bring my Nana back. I can't see her soft hands with painted fingers in hot pink anymore. I can't smell her chocolate chip cookies baking in the oven.
But I can open my heart to my inner child. To play. To paint. To dream. In my little quaint cottage. Near the water.