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grace eats

It’s not a perfect situation. Not even near best or ideal. We are staying with a new friend, an elderly gentleman and his elderly dog. The smell of old decaying rubber from fifty-year-old threadbare carpet caked with dust bunnies and dog fur eats into the fragile fabric of my olfactory consciousness. The mess is indescribable. But there is kindness and acceptance. And I will help address the living chaos once this thesis is submitted.

Grace is free. Does not ride on fluffy clouds of feel-good sympathy. Just simple trust, especially that the tattered rug will not be pulled from under foot, with no alternatives left but to jump into the abyss

It’s not a luxurious lunch, the batter was soggy, but it was gentle and warm.

Four days more to go. Tally ho, Bunny and Lucy!

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