that mean a lot.
When you're in the middle of a funk, you look to small things that make you happy.
Spike gave me many: a tilt of his head, a smile, the way he looks at me with his stuffed cow Eleanor in his mouth when he wants me to chase him.
Taylor Farm offered a particularly blue sky, the heron in the tidal pond, a salty sea breeze off the sound that brought back memories of rising and falling in the gentle swells of the Atlantic.
Little things keep me going.
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