The Measure of a Woman
In moments like these
The edge of winter finds me seasoning my guts with lemon, ginger and honey — and a hopeless longing for warm hands, summer sun and wanderlust money.
I can’t stand the cold. I resent being made to shiver and curse at this ridiculous life. By late November, my bones are already struggling to bare the drop in temperature. The imposing shadow of dark December lurking…