News Trend Induced By Induction|Actual

Last October, my thirty-year-old cook top died.

RIP homely little Jenn-Air electric two-burner. You and I had some good times and I'll remember you fondly.

In November, after much rumination, we picked out a handsome new Bosch induction cook top with a down-draft ventilation fan. The unit was installed six months ago, in January.

And this week, well into July, I bought some new pans so we can actually cook on it.

Yay progress.

When this journey began, I thought I wanted a gas range. Psh, everyone knows a big beautiful Wolf cooktop is where it's at, right? I was so ready to buy one and make out with it every day.

But wait. What's this? My Google-searching reverie was broken by a single word: induction.

Induction technology, I learned, is fast, clean and ridiculously safe. Magnetic fields generate heat if and only if they come into contact with a steel pan or pot. The glass cooking surface gets moderately warm but can't set fire to anything that isn't made of steel.

And wiping down the sleek black glass truly is a dream.

After learning that induction technology is old hat in Europe and finally catching on in the U.S., we decided to take the plunge.

Thankfully, my tried-and-true trio of cast iron skillets made the leap to the new technology. But the rest of my pots and pans were rendered useless and marched off to the secondhand store.

No worries, I told the family. I'll buy some new pans pronto.

That was a dirty lie.

It actually took months of alternating online searches and frequent perusals of the checkbook balance before I decided on a set of three pots fromIKEA'a 365+ line. Are they dreamy, top-of-the-line, for-the-rest-of-my-life, finest quality cookware? No. But these stylish stainless steel workhorses will get the pasta boiled and the stews simmered around here for a few years while I decide if some aristocraticLe Creusetis truly worth its outrageous price tag.

My new cook top has changed my life. My cooking technique has improved by leaps and bounds, thanks to the amazing performance of this snazzy fellow. From melting chocolate to putting a crisp char on some steaks, my induction cook top gets the job done with style.

I'll admit that I still dream about the red knobs on that sexy Wolf model, but all in all, I'm thrilled with the match I made.

News Trend Be You|Actual

First thing every morning, I stumble into my bathroom and reach for my toothbrush.

It lives right next to my sink. For maximum findability.

Then I grope around for toothpaste, and I find it here, on my bathroom shelves.

These shelves have lived through some transition lately.

For a long time, they were just random Target

Burt's Bees Milk And Honey Body Lotion

Which greatly soothed my weary morning soul. But to be honest, under that design ethic, this prime real estate was a tad underutilized.

Air plant | Sky Nursery.

Pink bowl | long ago at Target

An upside down Neti pot |Amazon

Burt's Bees Mama Bee Nourishing Baby Oil | Target

Vitamin E oil | Amazon

White jar | long ago at Target

Marble jar | long ago at Target

So I've experimented with adding a bit more product to the mix.

Oh sure. I'll totally admit that when I'm picking out lotions, cleansers, and hair products, I'm highly editorial about their packaging. They either fit my color scheme or, if they are really special, sent to live in a cupboard or drawer.

Kristen Ess Hydrating Curl Defining Cream | Target

Kristen Ess Weightless Shine Working Serum | Target

Marble jar | Thrifted

Bubblewrap | Glossier

Milky Jelly Cleanser | Glossier

Priming Moisturizer Rich | Glossier

And lately, I realized that my current collection of bottles, jars, and tubes plays up a handful of neutrals with a pretty shade of pink. Thanks, Glossier. You make my shelves look gorgeous.

But as I happily sorted and straightened, I felt like something was missing. Something that would pop open my eyes every morning, and elevate my day to a higher trajectory.

And in an instant, a vision popped into my brain.

Hello Activated Charcoal Whitening Toothpaste | Target

Burt's Bees Milk And Honey Body Lotion | Target

Sally Hansen Nail Treatment Vitamin E Nail And Cuticle Oil | Target

A frame from the thrift store, spray-painted white.

A picture-perfect shade of pink - culled from my extensive collection of pink acrylic paint - across a piece of watercolor paper.

Hand-cut letters from the same watercolor paper, glued into place.

Now, in the mornings, as I stand in my bathroom, toothbrush in hand, and turn to reach for my toothpaste, this message fills my eyes and lifts me up with light and loveliness.

Be you, Gracie. As if you could ever be anyone else.

And then, brushing my teeth all the while, I step back into my bedroom to greet my dog and remind her too, to just be you.

* * * * *

Here's a link to the story about how I restyled my bathroom shelves last time:

Twenty Years

* * * * *

I rarely display word art in my home, but when I do, it's always homemade. Check out these stories about my other word art projects:

Organization Upgrades: Kitchen Pantry Edition

Sex In The Front Hall

News Trend One Thing About Kellen|Actual

Let me tell you some things I know about my friend, Kellen.

In many ways, he's a decent and fairly ordinary guy.

He loves:

watching professional sports,

listening to music,

swimming, fishing, hanging out on his cousin's boat,

playing tennis, working out, riding bikes with his uncle,

throwing around a football or a baseball, or kicking around a soccer ball,

eating,

cooking,

Jesus,

and spending time with the people he loves,

especially his nine-year-old son.

Kellen and I have known each other for a year and a half now, and I can tell you for a fact that he is a deep thinker and interesting conversationalist, open to examining his own life and willing to consider new possibilities.

He's also thoughtful, considerate, and devoted to being a good friend. I can always count on him to be honest with me, and to hear my blunt questions with positive intent. He says thank you a lot, and opens doors for me.

Kellen and I are friends. Good, solid, tried-and-true friends.

And while all those wonderful things about Kellen are 100% factual and true, there is something else you should know.

Kellen is a heroin addict.

For somewhere around fifteen years, he has battled many demons:

using pretty much every street drug he can get his hands on,

stealing from the people he loves,

committing felonies,

running from the police,

destroying relationships with his loved ones,

living a life of utter chaos.

He's gone to rehab, experienced horrible withdrawals, sobered up, relapsed, run back to the streets, more times than he can count or even remember.

He's been arrested, convicted of felonies, and served time in prison.

He's told a shocking number of lies, in order to save himself from even deeper trouble.

He's turned his life over to Jesus, then fallen away, over and over again.

And I will tell you the honest truth. Sometimes it is hard to be Kellen's friend. It's hard to see him want to do the right thing in his life, only to struggle and fall down, time and time again. It's hard to watch him make the mistakes that addicts make, and know that I cannot fix him. It's hard to remind myself, over and over again, that he has to figure this out for himself.

But of all the things I know about Kellen, this is the most true.

God loves him.

I have never in my life seen so many miracles fall into one person's life.

I have no words to describe the wild twists and turns that happen in Kellen's life every week or so, that allow him to keep walking on a path toward sobriety.

I have observed countless times that when Kellen makes even a tiny effort to do the right thing, God takes his step forward and multiplies it, many times over, to bring good into Kellen's life, right when he needs it most.

Lord knows Kellen hasn't yet reached his destination of sober living. But God seems utterly determined to remove the obstacles in his way and give him the second, third, fourth...Twentieth, thirtieth, fortieth chances that he needs to keep on walking in the right direction.

And so if there is any one thing I would like you to know about my friend, Kellen, it's this:

His painful, chaotic, off-the-rails life is living proof, right before my very eyes, that

no matter what we do wrong,

no matter how far we fall,

no matter how many times we screw up,

God loves us, far more than we can ever understand.

News Trend A Simple Celebration|Actual

Welcome to the Streicher annual Fourth of July backyard bash.

We keep it pretty simple around here.

Early in the morning, our flag makes it appearance on the front porch. Around noon, the kitchen is typically aflurry with various cooking and baking projects. Each Streicher daughter plans and delivers the dish of her choice, and we often work together.

The schedule also allows ample time for baseball games, dog walks, and general slacking off.

Around dinner time, the celebration shifts to the back yard.

^ This year, the party started with a fire. And that is my department.

True confession. I am a massive pyromaniac and I love building fires. And by fires, I mean roaring blazes that push the limits of paling aman and common sense.

The bigger, the better is definitely my motto, and though this effort looks puny, I heaped on all the wood available to me and lit her up all at once.

Not a bad effort for a small cooking fire.

^ While I was overseeing the conflagration, my daughters filled the table with our feast:

Hot dogs and bratwurst with buns and condiments

Baked beans

Cornbread

Potato salad

Pasta salad

And an all-American homemade apple pie.

^ Then we roasted up our tube steaks...

^ ...While Gracie guarded the table.

Just kidding. If my dog had been left alone with all that food for two seconds, she surely would have jumped up in the middle of that table, muzzle deep in one dish after the next, eating until every bite was gone or someone hauled her off the table and wrestled her into submission, whichever came first.

She's quite the enthusiastic picnicker.

^ At some time between eating our fill of dinner and tucking into the apple pie, we savored s'mores around the campfire. Nothing says freedom to me like this kind of crunchy, gooey, melty, chocolatey, lick your fingers deliciousness.

^ As the mosquitoes gathered in the shady corners and began their assault on the sweet-blooded members of the family, we decided to finish our second desserts in the house. But before we went inside, we enjoyed the festive mini -fireworks display of sparklers. Our wands of light sizzled and smoked across the backyard as we listened to the not-so-distant bangs and booms of higher caliber explosions, and decided that the combined effect was almost as fun as one of the official fireworks shows that we had opted not to attend.

* * * * *

Our Fourth Of July celebration was pretty darn basic, that's for sure. We didn't even get around to hanging red, white, and blue decorations; feasting on our traditional saltwater taffy, or arguing over croquet. I forgot to wear my tri-cornered hat, which I purchased once on a trip to Boston and wore all the way home on the plane. My then-teenaged daughters' were definitely not impressed, and still roll their eyes when I bring it out for its usual annual appearance. I'll wear it next year for sure.

But even the simplest celebration of our country's birthday fills me with awe and gratitude for our founding fathers' insight and courage. I'm forever thankful to the brave men and women who fought for future Americans' right to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. There's nothing simple about the sacrifices they made for you and me.

News Trend Contentment|Actual

A long walk on a hot day,

a deep drink of water,

and a nap in the shade where the grass grows soft and long.

These are the things that make my good dog happy.

And therefore, they are the things make me happy too.

News Trend Hari Raya Cookies|Actual

Hari Raya cookies.

Baked with love by my friend, Nor Abdullah, for her Eid al-Fitr celebration in Cuba.

Dutifully carried across the North American continent by her sons.

They grace my Seattle table and warm my heart with each beautiful bite.

I do not understand why my life came to be filled with such sweet mystery

but I'm certainly glad that it did.

News Trend Hydrangea|Actual

Summer, in all her ruffled extravagance, lives in my backyard.

Basking in sunshine, she fills me with luxurious excess.

Spellbound, I watch and wait, hoping she can somehow last forever.

But her time is fleeting. So I revel in each glorious day.

News Trend Sex With The Bookcase|Actual

The best ideas are when you take two older ideas that have nothing to do with each other, make them have sex with each other, and then build a business around the bastard, ugly child that results.

-James Altucher, The 7 Habits of Highly Effective Mediocre Entrepenuers

* * * * *

Today's story riffs on Mr. Altucher's memorable quote in a slightly sideways fashion. Rather than starting with two ideas and using them to birth a new idea, my brainstorm of the day reverse engineers that thought process. I started with one thing and ended up with two....So maybe I discovered I was carrying conjoined twins and had them surgically separated them at birth?

Alas. The duduk perkara with metaphors is that sooner or later, they all break down and cease to make sense. So let's throw this one aside and get straight to the point.

My new child is a work in process. Every morning my family wakes up

and comes downstairs to see what I moved around on these shelves

during the night while they slept. I am an ardent bookcase stylist,

and I look forward to obsessing over this project for weeks to come.

For the last three decades, a white bookcase has stood in my family room. It's been a sturdy workhorse, reinvented many times over as my family has grown. Though I must clarify that technically, it has always been two bookcases - one section about twice as wide as the other - bolted together and serving as one.

For a reference point and a lovely trip down memory lane, flash back to the year 2012 and take a look at my family room in that day. Oh my goodness, literally everything has changed since then but the trusty white bookcase still lumbers on.

At least, it did until last March when we pulled all the furniture out of the first floor to make way for our new wood floors. And while the bookcase was cooling its heels out in the garage for a few weeks, I made a shocking discovery.

I liked my family room without the white bookcase

Blasphemy, I know.

I felt horribly guilty.

This is a nice, well-constructed white laminate bookcase, much more solid and substantial than the ubiquitous IKEA pieces that have become so popular since 1989.

And a perfect blank canvas for so many kinds of display and storage space.

I would be crazy to get rid of my white bookcase.

Wouldn't I?

For sure there will be books. Black and white books. Bookends and geometric shapes will stay, along with my mom's old oak box, candles, plants. I need a bigger piece of art on the top shelf, and more white space. This is looking a bit too cluttered for me.

For the next four months, I deliberated.

Weighed my options.

Argued pros and cons.

Carefully calculated.

Hemmed and hawed.

And this weekend, just when I thought I would surely go mad from my ridiculous angst, the perfect answer finally dawned on me.

I would break up the set.

The slice of wood on the third shelf down came from a cherry tree on my husband's grandfather's farm. Today I bought a new marimo ball that's living on the top shelf, and down on the bottom right, hiding in the shadows, is a  little wicker suitcase I bought back in the 1970s. It lived with my mom for several decades and has now come back to me. All of these things will be staying on my new bookcase for sure. But exactly where? That's a good question.

^ The wider of the two sections was welcomed back into my family room, elegantly sleek and fresh to my eye, ready for a whole new look.

Love the clean, pristine presentation of my daughter's favorite dishes in her slim new bookcase.

^ And after a quick negotiation and personal delivery service, the narrow section has moved in with my first born, and now provides outstanding storage for coffee mugs, dishes, glasses, and cookbooks in her dining room.

What a happy ending to my existential crisis.

After all their years together, my twins are separated and ready to begin new lives of their own. I am set free from the terror of my either/or decision and living contentedly where I belong in the land of both/and.

And now if you'll excuse me, I'm off to log a few more hours on styling my new bookcase. My baby requires lots of attention.

* * * * *

More stories about the secara acak ideas that fuse themselves together in my head:

Sex In The Kitchen

Sex In The Workshop

Sex In The Garden

Sex In the Front Hall

Sex On The Patio

Sex With The Bookcase

Sex In the Side Yard

News Trend Praying For Heather|Actual

Heather is dying. Just a few more days is she likely to live. For the past four years, she has put up an astonishing fight against the lung disorder that is now taking her life. But in no way has she lost the battle.

Right this moment, she is surrounded by her family and dearest friends, spending her last precious hours wrapped up in their love.

This is victory.

This is triumph.

These holy moments are the prize of a life well-lived.

I knew Heather only during her high school years; her brother - who died of the same disease - and my first-born were close friends. I am not a hands-on player in her inner ring of support.

But I can pray for the courage, the fortitude, the glory of this tiny blond warrior woman.

So that is what I do.

Where our strength ends, God's strength is just beginning.

Heather, you know better than most of us the heights and depths of His indescribable love and I pray that as your journey continues, you will feel eternally safe and secure in His arms.

Death is not a punishment but it is a great mystery. Still, I have a feeling that when you slip beyond its veil, you will feel closer to your loved ones than we earth-bound humans can imagine.

I pray that your love will continue to pour down on your husband and your children.

I pray that they will feel, in dreams and precious still moments, the living presence of your loving spirit forever.

I pray especially for your children.

I pray that the love you've given them in their short lives is exactly what they need from you.

I trust that your guidance and influence on their character will stay with them always.

You have done your best for them with the time you were given, and that is absolutely the most that any mother can do.

I pray for the joy of your broken body made whole in heaven.

I pray for the blessed relief you will feel when this agonizing battle has ended.

And I smile to think of your reunion with your brother and other loved ones who await you in eternity.

Sweet peace to you, Heather, as you close your eyes and prepare for what comes next.

You are a precious child of God, a daughter with whom He is most certainly well pleased.

Amen.

News Trend Reading At The Pool|Actual

How We Learn by Benedict Carey

You know all those things you know about the best way to learn? Set a regular routine, find a quiet place, avoid interruptions and distractions, stay  focused on your work, study by going over your readings and your notes, right? Wrong. Science proves that all of those practices get in the way of how our brains actually learn. If you or someone you love is in the business of being a student, you owe it to yourself to read this amazing book.

* * * * *

My idea of a perfect poolside book does not normally include graduate level college textbooks. But the title of this volume from my daughter's Masters in Education coursework had intrigued me for months. So while packing for my recent trip to Mexico, I tucked it into my suitcase. Little did I know that my mind was about to be blown.

As a person who teaches math to homeschooled high schoolers, I get a pretty good window into the reality of how today's teenagers study. They struggle to keep up a regular homework schedule, and flop around various places - sprawled across the couch, sitting at a table, lying on the bed as they try to get some work done. Distractions flow freely - every few minutes, their phone chimes or a sibling sets them off - and when they come across a difficult duduk perkara, they often give up and walk away for a while.

I must confess their habits pretty much mirror the way I studied at their age.

Except I didn't get phone notifications. Instead, our landline would ring and I would rocket out of my room to be the first to grab it.

Adults generally get frustrated with this behavior. We tend to talk about responsibility, dedication, focus, and finishing what you start. There's an emphasis on proper scheduling and setting of routines. It all comes down, so we say, to discipline and that includes plenty of study time for tests.

So it's a bit disconcerting for us adults to hear that the current body of research makes it crystal clear that those traditional study habits should promptly be thrown right out the window. That's a huge pivot and not one that I take lightly.

Which is why I most enthusiastically recommend that anyone who

is parenting a high school student,

will be parenting a high school student within the next ten years,

teaches students of any age, or

is just naturally curious about how we learn

READ THIS BOOK.

You will be amazed. I promise.

* * * * *

P.S. Shout out to John Saxon, author of the truly innovative math curriculum that I have used for twenty years, who intuitively incorporated some fabulous learning theory into his textbooks, and therefore got his very own two-paragraph shout out in this book starting on laman 166.

* * * * *

To read more about John Saxon and my infinite respect for his educational genius, read this:

Life As A Math Teacher: My Hero

Be sure to check out the photos.

* * * * *

Read more about what I've been reading:

Reading Afternoons

Reading Mornings

Reading Children's Books

Reading Memories

Reading Recommendations

Reading Inspiration

Reading Insights

Reading At The Pool

Reading About The Desert

Reading On Repeat

Reading Natalie Babbitt

Reading The Truth

Reading Books That Are Blue

* * * * *

Read more about what I've been reading:

Reading Afternoons

Reading Mornings

Reading Children's Books

Reading Memories

Reading Recommendations

Reading Inspiration

Reading Insights

Reading At The Pool

Reading About The Desert

Reading On Repeat

Reading Natalie Babbit

Reading The Truth

Reading Books That Are Blue

Reading Mysteries

Reading About Walking

News Trend My Real-Life Fire Pit|Actual

If wishes were horses, I know just what kind of a fire pit I would build.

Set high on a rugged bluff over looking the Pacific

Wide open to golden grasses on the north and south, and to the west, glorious blue water

I would build a massive limestone terrace

Adirondack chairs would run the length of the space, all facing to the ocean

And a huge dugout pit would dominate the opposite side of the terrace.

I'm a major fan of roaring big fires.

And other than a big stack of firewood and  a side table heaped with s'mores supplies, that would be all that I need.

But I do not have a dreamy fire pit on a golden California hillside.

My real-life fire pit is tucked into the back corner of my suburban back yard. Green and lush, it speaks of coziness and seclusion and damp summer evenings.

Rather than the product of a grand design, the space has evolved over many years, in bits and pieces.

I've made do with what I've had on hand and what I can easily afford.

Even the plantings are rescued cast-offs and runaways from other corners of my garden.

This fire pit is real and true. And while it might not be as grand as my dreams, it is mine.

And even if wishes were horses, I don't think I would change one single thing.

Oh. And also, in my real-life fire pit, I roast chicken sausages and zucchini. I much prefer them to s'mores.

News Trend Rice Bowl Sauce: Orange Tahini|Actual

I'd been waiting for this question all afternoon and when it finally came, I leaned back in my seat smiling smugly to myself as I answered.

"Why yes, as a matter of fact, I do have a plan for dinner."

We were driving home from an afternoon shopping trip which, to my third- and fourth-born daughters and me, means a visit to the rock store and the plant store.

It was fairly late in the day, around four. My fourth-born daughter was behind the wheel because I had forgotten my bag at home and therefore did not have my license on me. My third-born was riding shotgun and quite unusually, I was holding down the back seat. Traffic was gnarly and the minutes toward dinner time were ticking down loudly as my daughters broached the daily quandary of what to have for dinner.

Clockwise-ish from the top:

Brown rice

Mushrooms

Flaky white fish

Sirloin

Onion

Orange tahini sauce

More brown rice

Carrots

Watermelon

Broccoli

"Rice bowls," I said. "Let's have rice bowls."

Already the list of ingredients was settled in my mind, and as I rattled off my ideas to my daughters, they nodded in agreement. Rice bowls are a current favorite around our table.

As I wrapped up my presentation, fairly glowing at my successful plan, my fourth-born's next question swatted me off my lofty pedestal.

"What should we have for a sauce?"

Dang it. I forgot about the sauce.

Shamefully, I had overlooked that crucial catalyst of the rice bowl, the secret sauce that brings all the discrete bits together and melds them into a delicious whole much greater than the sum of its parts. Yes, I could patch us through with some soy sauce, a blast of Tabasco, or some sriracha, but I had set my sights high and I wanted only the best for this evening's rice bowls.

I-405 post merge. Traffic was much heavier than it appears here.

As my daughters' attention was momentarily distracted by a hectic merge onto I-405, I grabbed my phone and furiously Googled.

And like an angel from heaven, the first link I opened gave me exactly what I needed.

5 Easy Sauces to Make Grain Bowls Pop

Yes. I scrolled to the first one and broke into a grin.

Orange Tahini.

I thought of the big can of tahini sitting at home in my fridge, and the delicious orange I'd used for a carne asada recipe over the weekend. The angels were now singing a hallelujah chorus, and I knew this was the perfect sauce for my rice bowl dinner plan.

Quixotically, I ate my rice bowl from a plate. And I had seconds.

Ninety minutes and one dog walk later, we sat down to a rice bowl feast. And the star of the show was the orange tahini sauce.

* * * * *

Ingredients & Directions:

Combine 1/2 cup tahini, 2 tablespoons olive oil, 2 tablespoons water, zest and juice of 1 orange, 2 tablespoons honey, and 1 clove garlic, then blend until smooth. Season to taste with salt and fresh-ground black pepper.

from the Kitchn

* * * * *

I'm so inspired by this recipe that I've committed to a month of Rice Bowl Mondays, featuring each of the five sauces in the article. Here you go:

Orange Tahini

Spicy Sriracha Peanut

Mediterranean Olive Sauce

Hoisin Ginger

Herbed Goat Cheese

News Trend Gracie's World|Actual

Gracie most certainly knows how to work a throw pillow and a blanket.

Today marks the two-year anniversary of this girl's arrival into my life.

And just like every other day between then and now, Gracie lived out the day with sunny optimism and a big, bold attitude. My dog has her way with life, and oftentimes I do believe that this is Gracie's world and we are just living in it.

After losing twenty pounds in her first few months with us,

her weight on the scales may have crept back up but she looks as fit and sleek as ever.

As I left the house this morning to run some errands, Gracie obediently hopped up on her favorite couch and presented herself for our goodbye ceremony. As always, I closed the door to the rest of the house, limiting my pup to the run of the family room, kitchen and laundry room.

And though this familiar routine was completely up to our usual standard, I felt something was amiss. So before I even left the driveway, I texted my third-born, who was working on a paper upstairs, to check on our red-headed angel when she had a minute.

Have I mentioned that Gracie wears socks at night? They are infant socks from Baby Gap, and she has nine different sets; these have little yellow bulldozers. In the evenings after she's eaten her apple and made one last trip around the backyard, we slip her into her cozies and she settles right down for the night. She seems to find them to be quite relaxing.

What happened next was this.

My daughter came downstairs and opened the door to the half of the house where Gracie was supposedly napping.

She walked through the kitchen and turned the corner to face into the family room.

There, strewn across the floor, she found the contents of the composting bin.

Mango pits and peels

Eggshells.

Old lettuce.

Pistachio shells.

Our red headed lady had once again jumped up at the kitchen sink, clenched the edge of the gallon-sized plastic bin that holds our food scraps, hoisted it up and over the edge of the extra deep sink, and carted it off to the family room, where she undoubtedly dumped it onto the floor and sorted through the spoils.

My daughter looked that naughty little dog in the eye and calmly asked, "Gracie, what is this?

This is the couch to which Gracie ran. She knows when she has been naughty.

In response, Gracie scrambled to her feet and scampered out the now-open door to the other end of the house, where she jumped up on a different couch, curled in a cozy heap, closed her eyes, and did her best impression of a sleepy and altogether innocent puppy.

And so it goes.

I'm still not convinced that this really is Gracie's world. But I am one hundred percent sure that she considers it to be all hers.

And just like every other day of the two years we have spent together, I can only wonder what she'll dream up to do tomorrow.