It is a rare month when those are the first words out of my mouth. I managed it at 4:59 this morning, though. Superstition looks good on February. Tiny rituals for a short month. Civic religion, washed down with hearts--a Necco wafer communion.
I rapped on wood yesterday, when I said I wasn't pregnant. Somewhere inside, was I crossing my fingers? Be Mine... xox
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