I've taken steps this week to edge back, closer again, to happiness. Already I've alighted on patches of lightness, here and over there, like wet green mounds that appear through the melting snow.
I woke up this morning, fingers aching to write. I woke up this morning, yearning to bake. It's been some time since I indulged in either. Telling: happiness begets both for me.
The rhythmic whirring of the mixer. The smattering of flour, on the countertop; inevitably, always, on the front of my apron; on my cheek or nose sometimes. The anticipation, always the anticipation, of how it will taste once out of the oven. All this, I've missed, and more.
Next up: cake!