sunflower sugar

Today, I woke at dawn.  Instead of crawling my wits out of bed, I rested.  I let my bosom breath beside feathered pillows, and I continued to day dream of love, may flowers, and breakfast.

Breakfast today, dried apricots, life cereal, and strawberries stuffed in a warm peach oatmeal bake.  Happy belly fillings. 

Spring is decorating the moss. The moss is planning play dates with the flowers.  Yesterday, while sitting on a hill, the sun etched peach glow on my cheeks.  Bliss.
The weather is bending rivers, and bringing barefoot blossoms.  My winter tears are buried in the soil. My Summery wings are attached to my breast.  To celebrate the merriment, I wore my sunflower dress.  This dress holds sentiments of summer, and memory.   I found the dress in New York while attending the weardrobe fashion blogger event, two autumns ago.  The dress was spun with the needle of Keiko Lynn.
Keiko,  the talented fashion blogger, but even more, the charming and delicate fawn who shared cupcakes with me underneath New York skylines.

My bones ache when dreaming of New York and all of it's beauty. My heart aches when dreaming of the sugary-coated girls I met.  I'll go boot licking/snacking/shopping/dancing/dreaming/ in New York again.... 

On Sunday, it was Mother's day. A day for the magnification of motherhood. A day for the fawn to kiss the hooves of the deer, a day for the cub to lick the nose of the panda, a day to celebrate the Mother's who kept their wombs warm.

I have a mother. Her skin is soft like lamb fur.   From her lips, a soothing song decays worries. From her eyes, draws a delicate world. From her fingers, a tasty mid morning snack.    Her heart is the soil, in which I grew.  The world of classrooms, appointments, and friends, kept me to believe I was more of a weed. But the love of my mother, tints the world rosy, and makes me see lilacs in my skin.

When I think of Mother's day, I think of memories.
The many times of drifting, and napping through the morning while sharing a pillow. The time we laughed at the movie theater because of the miniature cup. The many times she traded me sandwiches because mine tasted funny. The times we sang Babylon on road trips, and dad was moody. The times we picked pots from nurseries. The times we brought ourselves to giggle fits in the light of the day. The time we drank red wine, and stumbled on staircases. The times we snacked on sushi, and split green teas. The times she stayed with me through witching hours, to keep me alive, and to make certain I was breathing. she told me "You don't need em, You've got me"..

My Mom is the river way, where I boat. The flower bed, where I rest. The misty mountain, where I dream. I didn't buy her flowers, or write her cards, or make her breakfast. I sent her poems, and we poked fun at puppies. Happy every day Ma............... Smooch.

Sometimes I wonder, if I enjoy writing, and dreaming of food, more than chomping on it.... For lunch, two poached eggs on a toasted honey spit muffin. I've always been fickle with food, and pardoned by healthy eating, except for the occasional brownie, or melted marshmallow.  As of lately, the occasional is cut from the equation. My lips pout for chocolate, and my tongue bends for the sugar sip. A belly doesn't grow in a day, but I'd pass meals for snacks, and snacks for sweets.  The dream of bananas coated in cinnamon causes my heart to skip. Starting this week, I'm planning meals, and learning how to cook.  

As you may know, I suffer with belly aches. Since grade 9, I've been struck with the pangs and inflation of tummy suffering. I've been through apple juice, I've been through carrots, I've been through doctors, and nurses, and nursery rhymes. Nothing is working. So I'm choosing to eat healthier than before.  Tonight for dinner, we're having salmon and lemon braised beans. Dashing with peanuts. Happy tummy fillings.

Today, I want to make my heart happy.  So I'm taking my knees Vintage shopping.  Months have past since I last traveled to the racks of smelly cloth, and aged dresses.  Lately, I've been dreaming of white denim, and gypsy fabric.   My wallet is ready to spit paper money in exchange for gowns, drapery, and pretty thing

Here's the cake for Birthday boy Carter.  And the flower gin for Amy...
The copious amounts of chocolate, and sugar lead to belly aches.
At least, The tongue was happy, and the day was complete.

Sweet love, and hugs, and wishes for merriment x

what i wore

flower dress- keiko lynn from New York fashion blogger event
hat- vintage $13

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