It happened.
My groove.
It's back.
Yesterday evening, I was slicing mushrooms. So very appropriate my groove would come flying in during veggie chopping.
In my kitchen. Music floating through the air. Fire crackling in the living room {yes, it's natural gas...but I swear it crackles}. Rain on the window.
And just like that. I looked up from the mushrooms and first thought, "Hey. This is fabulous." Then I actually said out loud, "Yes!"
I flipped my knife around in a little oh yeahhh and danced a shimmy shake right there.
Danced in my kitchen. By myself. With a lime green knife.
I have grown. I have learned. I have my groove back.
The other day, I air popped my own popcorn to bring to Sister Pister's volleyball game. Because dangit, I like to eat popcorn at sporting events but I don't like to eat a bag of oil. So I made my own. As I sat there with my camera and a ziploc baggie of popcorn which had been finagled out of my purse, I realized that sometimes my groove is as simple as air, corn, and sea salt.
Not everything needs to be rocket science.
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