When I found myself in the wildly tossing Atlantic ocean and circling between me and the sandy bottom was a literal sharknado, my first thought was to jump back in the boat as fast as my snazzy yellow flippers would carry me.
Do you ever get the feeling you are the walking embodiment of disaster? Cause I do.
Here’s the thing about a good stew: you have to let it… well, stew! For like three hours! And let me tell you, it smells really good. The. Whole. Time.
So there I was, thigh-deep in chill-inducing river water, with my sky blue kayak, my beautiful Ellie Sparrow, staring mournfully back up at me from a foot beneath the surface.
There’s a lot I love about the English language. It’s complex, beautiful, and odd in a becoming way. But I imagine it would be a nightmare to try to learn.