ready for spring
Its cold in our apartment and as our final week in this building begins to roll out the red carpet the boxes almost stack themselves. I wrap up memories in old newspapers from my home town and watch the sharpie designate what should go where and in what order. As the sea of cardboard makes higher and higher waves, it becomes nearly impossible to maneuver around the momentarily neatly packed life. Also on a odd note, most of our boxes came from next door- the supermercado- so it smells like tortillas and other goya products, a constant fiesta.
My hairs a mess and I’ve yet to shower or make coffee…
so I must go and do those things…
kisses- Morgana
