Home is a Box.

     Some people say that home is where the heart is.

     Talia’s home was a sturdy wooden box that sat in front of the hearth. It was warm and safe and always in the right place. After a long day of selling her goods at the market she would return to her little cottage in the woods, its blue windows shining happily in the starlight to welcome her in from the frosty air.

      Then she would slump in front of the fire and take out her heart to inspect for an hour or so, this was a bad habit she admitted, but somebody had to check for new scars, and there was nobody else she trusted enough with the task. That was rather the point. But every night she would find no new wounds, only the faded mark from years gone by where her heart had been shredded.

Reasons to Smile

Okay this is a new thing I'm going to do, basically whenever I see an outstandingly lovely act of human kindness or awesomeness I'm going to write a short post on it just to spread the fact that even though there's a lot of horrid-ness in the world there's also a lot of niceness. :)

So recently I attempted to change the strings on my guitar and all went well but while tuning my G string snapped, (yes haha, it's hilarious so laugh it off now.)

I tried to get a new one but it turns out there aren't many music shops near where I live and the one I know of is so out of my way I just kept putting it off. However today I walked home from town a different way than the one I'm used to and I happened to pass the shop so I thought I may as well pop in and see if they had any separate G strings (haha) since I didn't want to have to buy a whole new pack.