I, fortunately, am not one of those people who have a name that is often misspelled. I had the option of buying my name on a keychain. It’s fairly traditional. So traditional, in fact, that I go by something the more interesting Sahara on WordPress and in a few other places.
Sooo… today. Today. Today. Cohiba and I went to a coffee festival. A coffee festival. Coffee coffee coffffffeeeeeeeee…..
That is, the top 10 things I wish I could experience again for the first time. And sex isn’t one of them. (The embarrassed fumbling, though sweet, was not the best.) As always, they are not in any particular order.
If we were having coffee, We would gaze quietly upon the rain outside, and I would tell you that I’m getting used to it. The rain? you ask, and I nod. You know what would be great, though? You shake your head.
If we were having coffee, we would have trouble finding a place to sit. It’s busy in here today! You remark, but then remember this neighborhood is hosting an apple picking festival. Will they start selling cider? I wonder aloud, remembering ciders I’d had over the years. There was a booth at one of renaissance fairs named the “Cup and Chaucer,” which I think is so delightful. They had hot cider on sale for $2, and as my first morning drink, it sounded awesome. It wasn’t until I started sipping that I realized it wasn’t alcoholic, (hence the low price.) I also realized the hot drink in my pewter mug meant burned my lips and tongue.
When we brought the Wee One home from the hospital, the first few days were, as promised, difficult. Recovering from surgery, tired, in pain, feeding the Wee One every few hours, crying, struggling with the latch, what felt like endless pumping…
This a just a list of a few things that stand out to me as different. Not wrong or bad, just things I’m not used to as a Midwesterner.