Fond memories of visiting my paternal grandfather’s house and walking around the acres of trees picking pecans and pomegranates off of the ground. Crushing the dry cracked earth beneath my feet into powder. Breaking the frozen ice in the bird bath. also I love pecans the most of any nut
My dad teases me about how when I was a little kid, my favorite thing to do when I was on the landline phone with somebody—be it a relative or one of my best friends—was to breathlessly describe the things that were in my bedroom so that they could have a mental picture of everything I loved and chose to surround myself with, and where I sat at that moment in time. Perfectly Imperfect reminds me of that so thanks for always listening and for sharing with me too 💌
