Why yes, I do have a new French press at home. Why do you ask?
As I was walking to Davis Square this morning listening to "Jóga," a thought came entirely unbidden. My normally hypercritical internal voice silenced for a moment, and another very quietly said, "My soul sings with a woman's voice." I am perfectly ok with this.
Shortly thereafter, I found a rock that looked like a toe:
Shortly thereafter, I found a rock that looked like a toe:
