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angel, tori, santa

May 2013

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angel, tori, santa

my 33rd year. i do believe this year will be magickal. my man will move to this part of the world, i will finally find the desert faires, i will change my job to one that is healthy for me. (and, possibly, get internet again. because it's very hard to write in a journal with people milling around you.)

today is the celebration of me being a day old and getting to meet my big sister and having her fawn all over me. i was brought home on easter sunday in 1980. oh, then i guess i was still at the hospital on this day. tomorrow i will be the anniversary of being brought home. i wonder if my sister got to hold me the day after i was born, or if i was behind the glass at the hospital nursery. so sad how things worked back then. (and still do today, to an extent.) when i have my child (hopefully), she will be born at home with a sprinkle of people around her who love her. in dim lights, magickal music, and, knowing me . . . in the shower. she will immediately see her dad and the face of my beautiful midwife and friend. i will press her against my skin and massage all the little kinks out of her shoulders brought on by the hard work of being born. not a thread of fabric will touch her new skin, for she spent the last almost-year in a pool of silky fluid. (i can only imagine how rough fabric feels to a newborn.) everyone will speak in excited whispers as i sit with my babe and an intoxicated feeling.

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