"I’d sit cross-legged in the box, filtering the sand over and over again through an old spaghetti strainer, getting rid of the sticks and leaves that had fallen, until it was almost as fine as right after he poured the sand from the bag. That was perfect sand."
Monday, March 28, 2011
I Miss You, Blog
I promise to visit again really soon. Write a nifty post about Libya, my family, my writing process. Wax poetic about something or other.
By the way, it's winter again in Cincinnati. We had spring for about a week--daffodils appeared, I wore open-toed shoes--but then the cold made a comeback. There was snow on the ground yesterday. Snow!