A bit of what I wrote for this month’s Cafe Writing prompt:

“Race you to the jetty!” I yell and take off without checking to see if Sam is running or not. I don’t much care if I win, I just love the way the sand feels under my bare feet, warm at the surface, then colder beneath, and I love the way the blood surges in my veins as my legs move and my arms pump.

Breathless, the wind and ocean in my ears, face, and hair, I can’t really hear his footfalls, but I can feel his presence a little bit behind me, closer to the surf. Just as in the scene from Atalanta, we reach the jetty together, and sprawl in the sand near the slate blue rocks.

You can read the rest here.

Like celebrities to drug rehabs, ladybugs have been flocking to my house this winter. The first few showed up in December. A light bulb flickered out in the kitchen, and when I looked up I saw several red and black beetles spaced between the high-hats on the kitchen ceiling.

Since our return from Mexico, more have arrived. I found one crawling up my ankle a few nights ago while I was in the living room, saw three inside the arched window in the top of the house, and twice different ladybugs were caught in the vortex of the ceiling fan in our bedroom.

Ladybug lore says that if you find one in your house in winter, you’ll have good luck.

Here’s hoping.