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Dangerous Compassions

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Yesterday we painted butterflies with my bestie.  Then we went out to dinner and coffee where a momentous decision about a new book idea coalesced.

Then we swam.  We had the pool to ourselves.  It was a dusk swim.  A huge moth came to us and drank from the pool again and again.

I wanted to see bats, but luckily there were no mosquitoes for bats to eat.  But a quick bird reminded me of a bat.

We soaked in the hot tub.

The drive home–oh, I hate driving and passenging on the freeway at night.  It looks unreal, like a video game.  It feels unsafe.  But we made it thanks to Ming’s mad skillz.

Now the car is in the shop.  Spark plugs, spark plug coil, the worker said.  And they’re going to try to figure out the gurgling of the gas tank, but it only happened after a mountainous up up drive.

By Laura-Marie

Good at listening to the noise until it makes sense.

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