femina mosaic

your actual page is starting */ body { background-color: #cc99cc; } .header { background-color: #ff9900; border-bottom: 2px solid white; } h1 { font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 25px; color: white; padding-left: 57px; padding-top: 15px; padding-bottom: 10px; } .leftedge { background-color: #996699; } h3 { font-family: "Tahoma", sans-serif; font-size: 18px; color: white; padding-top: 20px; } .date { padding-left: 20px; padding-bottom: 2px; border-bottom: 2px solid #996699; } blockquote, p { font-family: "Tahoma", sans-serif; font-size: 18px; color: white; line-height: 18px; } .postinfo { font-size: 14px; font-style: italic; padding-bottom: 7px; padding-left: 15px; } .rightbar { background-color: #996699; border-left: 2px solid white; border-bottom: 2px solid white; padding-left: 15px; padding-right: 5px; padding-bottom: 30px; padding-top: 20px; } .blogarchive { color: #ff9900; } a:link { color: white; } a:visited { color: #ffcc99; } a:hover { color: #ff9900; } /* end of the style definition */

Sunday, June 08, 2003

There is something so absolutely lovely about waking up slowly on a rainy Sunday morning. I love to watch the rain drops slide down the glass, I try to track one drop for as long as I can. This morning I was alone in the bed. I could hear O in the living room making morning breakfast sounds, the clank of his spoon on the counter, the tea kettle gurgling. Fidel, that traiter, had leaped out of bed the minute he heard the fridge door open. I heard O slip him a piece of something contraband, probably a piece of hotdog or something.

These moments of peace are so fragile, I am almost afraid to breath.
freezengirl 8:22 PM

A blog for womens voices to speak of what is important to them.

A r c h i v e s

h o m e

e m a i l _ m e

3 4 5 0

< ? blogs by women # >