Howl Like An Abrupt Combustion

JournalWord: Combustion. :: You spew, bubble, and steam. Howling like an instant combustion. These phases of matter I can't explain. My dear, you're more complicated than my chemistry research. Sweet angel, from all these reactants, which will bring about the desired reaction? I'm mixing, measuring, calculating every equilibrium throughout the day. With nothing that brings a balance for the nights. A recipe of hush, lullabies, and rocking, perhaps? Maybe a beaker of warm milk to soothe your teeth? Baby girl, you're quite the simple little...

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I'm learning a lot about myself and those that are important to me during these busy times.

Just a tiny subtle slice of a recent thought through a memorable life-shaking reassurance. :: It's ten after two AM and I've caught the first snowflake of the season that has reached the valley. If I hadn't watched it's silent decent onto my fingertip, I wouldn't have known it arrived. It left a fleeting kiss before it disappeared, and I'm certain I won't remember it.  "Uncle! It's snowing!" And suddenly I'm nine years old and pointing out the obvious. He smiles and shakes his head, and I know he's tired from working this...

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