|Fish tacos for dinner last night|
Structuring my day around food and company comes as naturally to me here in the magical queendom of Hedgebrook as it does in the big shitty.
Taking oneself seriously as a writer is directly proportionate to thinking that it's all a farce and you're boring, even yourself.
A nettle sting, even to the tip of the pinky, is powerful. Surely that was a spider bite, I thought as the pain radiated out from the base of the nail and into the tip. It tingled, pins and needles for twelve hours.
The distance between being a woman respectable in appearance and well-spoken, to being a harridan with damp hair in the woods, haranguing herself, is short.