It was a great pace. A fucking awesome pace… I was hauling ass. Paul and I had set out for a run with Harper in the Jogger this afternoon and I took off and didn’t stop to look back. No music. I never run with no music. Only my thoughts and a distinct, almost painful … Continue reading
…mother, wife, daughter, family chef, laundry goddess, chauffeur, gardener, domestic goddess, survivor, advocate and patient. Until I had a brain tumor, I had never considered the meaning behind these labels, if they fit and why people used them. Being diagnosed with something horrible like a brain tumor has quickly taught me, aside from how … Continue reading
GREY MATTER LIFE 