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There were very few cars on the road and a lot of deer. I drove slowly and counted five deer either crossing the road in front of me or standing, undecided, on the shoulder, looking like they might make a dash for it. Then I saw a giant furry rump heading off the road and into the ditch, and knew the only thing that big was a black bear.
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I had no idea how the story would end, and I was filled with this massive fear that when I got to the end, it would be terrible, or there would be no ending, or the book would never be finished.
I hadn’t been swimming in a long time. Sometimes it feels like a nuisance to get wet. Sometimes I get self-conscious putting on a bathing suit. Usually, I fret that the water will be too cold. I chicken out and take a walk instead.
I admired how Isabelle was ready for the next demanding day at kindergarten. At some point early on, Isabelle had grasped the idea that the future was something that could be planned, and she ran with it.
“You are such a good dog! Aren’t you just a perfect dog?” I ask them. And the dogs agree that I am correct—they are all perfect dogs.
The stage is high, so I am right at shoe level. The shoes in musicals are amazing. Tap shoes and dance shoes and shoes covered in sequins. One show had heels that were actually small disco balls.
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