Some days are bright rays of sunshine.
Some days are full of joy and sparkles.
Some days include movies – in the cinema – and bacon nachos and chocolate cupcakes and sleep overs with BFFs.
Some days, baby girls turn NINE YEARS OLD and wrap the universe around their little diva fingers and spread happiness with every batted eyelash.
Some days spill over into others like too much honey and infect whole weekends with their sweet, warm, indolent light.
Some days are less so.
Some days, brilliant minds are overwhelmed by too much of everything.
Too many ideas.
Too many options.
Too much to do.
Too much lack.
Those days are hard.
It seems like the brief melt down, substantial as ash (and as black) has swallowed up the mellifluous days of celebration that went before and left only cold emptiness in its wake.
Some days, we are so blessed. We have so much.
Some days, it is too much.