....turtle time

Yogis,
My sister always knows what books I will enjoy. That’s why after reading and falling instantly in love with ‘Of Time and Turtles’, she handed it off to me with the caveat that this one was to be eventually returned. That’s how much she connected with its main characters…..the turtles.

The book, written by Sy Montgomery, is a true story of the time she spent volunteering for a turtle rescue league. While helping heal turtles she learned about the critical role turtles play in our environment. The experience changed her life and provided hope and meaning in a world that can at times seem to be missing both. The byline of the book is ‘Mending the World, Shell by Shattered Shell.’

I finally got a chance to start the book last week and as I opened the first page my jaw dropped. A short quote sat on an otherwise empty page. ‘Nature does not hurry, yet everything is accomplished.’ The exact same quote by Laozi that I had used in my Sunday writing the week before. I knew then that this book would be a special experience for me too.

Did you know turtles walked with dinosaurs? They can live over two hundred years, sense a pond a mile away and have over 300 species. They have personalities. And they are slow……

So yesterday morning I ran to the river and spent time sitting quietly on a fallen tree watching the water go by. Shifting into turtle time. Noticing the profusion of phlox in bloom and the spring green of newly opened leaves. Closing my eyes I listened to a symphony of bird calls.

As I often do, I asked the Universe for guidance on what to write, and then as an afterthought mentioned how nice it would be to see a turtle. Thanking the river and trees I headed home.

Not an hour later I glanced out the window to find a turtle marching along the path in my medicine wheel garden! Spotlighted by the sun you couldn’t have missed it! Head high and moving with purpose.

Out I went with phone in hand for a photo shoot. Seeing this turtle in a different light than in the past. With love, respect and gratitude. I gently helped remove a small stick stuck to her face and told her how awesome she was.

Turtles look right at you.

What a gift…….
SARAH

.....spring cleaning

Yogis,
Spring has sprung and my body is feeling it all. Tight shoulders and sore leg muscles from all the bending, twisting, squatting and reaching that spring in the garden requires. I have been literally knee deep in leaves, sticks and weeds as I begin this year’s spring cleaning in earnest.

No rake or leaf blower for me as I crawl in to remove old growth and weeds by hand, not wanting to risk harming any shoots pushing their heads through the earth toward the light. Every heavy handful of soggy leaves I lift reveals something.

Oh, hello bergamot! Welcome back echinacea! Excited to spend another summer with you goldenrod! The scent of mint wafts by as my hands comb through a raised bed. Looking forward to adding you to my eggs, chives!

All my old trusty friends who return year after year. Dependable.

But then I move some sticks in an area I remember being bare and see someone unfamiliar. Hhmmmmm…… Obviously I planted this last year but I have absolutely no idea who it is. This happens every spring at least a few times. New plants that I add at the end of a summer that thankfully come back but my memory of them does not. Thank goodness I didn’t go buy a plant for this spot already.

It’s both baffling and thrilling! Something that isn’t new, but feels new. I am reminded of my closet.

Every spring when I vow to ‘spring clean’ my closet and drawers I begin to pull everything out. One by one. By hand.

Yellow tank top, you will be getting a lot of use this summer. Yay white pants, you still fit well! I forgot your perfect pocket for my phone, running shorts. And then I come across a summer dress I have had a few years that is still unworn which I completely forgot I own. Embarrassingly the tag still on.

I try it on. It fits perfectly and feels right! The shopping I had planned for an upcoming event has suddenly been crossed off the to do list. This isn’t the first time I have shopped successfully in my own closet. Not new…..yet new.

In spring we have a natural urge to clean, purge and purchase. Sometimes I find myself doing it in the wrong order though…..purchasing first and often discovering I already have what I just bought. This year in my garden and my life, I am setting the intention to clean first. Who knows what I may find?

I forgot about you awesome shorts….. and sensitive fern!
SARAH

.....as it is

Yogis,
Defined as ‘a natural tendency to behave in a certain way’, propensities develop over time and have our mind believe there is one way to act and it is the right way. We all have them. I’ve noticed one of mine.

Spring, while beautiful and so full of promise, also tests us. I returned from vacation to three glorious days of warmth and sunlight. Yes! Spring has arrived. Two days later I am bundled up with my tired winter coat, gloves and well-worn hat. Each time I open the door to a brisk wind I am annoyed. This isn’t spring.

But it is.

Warm weather returns with an Easter I touted as the perfect spring weekend. Blue skies highlight how imminent the unfurling of leaves is. With a pep in my step, I’m anxious to be outside for large chunks of time. Then…… three gloomy days filled with sporadic torrential rains. The thermometer reading low fifties, but my bones registering mid-thirties. Is it possible to not go out at all?

Annoyed. Frustrated. Wishing the days away to get to what I have decided is true spring. I realize I do this each year. Wanting spring to be something she is not. A propensity which is the root of my own suffering.

April can be cruel that way. A harsh teacher of letting things be as they are. April, however, is not the problem. Things on the outside are rarely the problem. The issues arise from our unmet expectations.

What if I change my expectations? Can I let April be what it is? Changeable, turbulent, wet and beautiful all rolled up in one messy ball. Can I go for the ride? Embrace all of her?

I woke Thursday to a crescent moon hanging in a brightening sky, framed by clouds tinged pink by the approaching sun. Stunning. Twenty minutes later fog rolls in, blanketing the world white.  Silent.  An afternoon forecast for rain and gusty winds. Blustery.  Did I mention hail?

Like life, April offers chances to let go and practice experiencing things as they are, not as we wish them to be. In the meantime, she continues to do her work preparing the earth for a bounty, unbothered by our expectations. Thank goodness.

Tonight down to 40,
SARAH

....deeper connection

 Yogis,
Returning from vacation late last Wednesday, I unpacked, got some sleep, taught two classes, went through the mail and repacked my suitcase. Thursday I headed down to watch my three grandchildren.

Last weekend my oldest son and daughter-in-law took a 5 day trip to Mexico. It was the first real adult vacation they have had post kids. Five days in the sun doing whatever they felt like doing, whenever they felt like doing it. The real deal.

It is a completely different experience to move about the world as a ‘couple’ vs a ‘family’.

I know the difference well. Working for Xerox, we went on President’s Club trips for years, followed by our own weeklong stays on islands. Each time my parents swooped in to watch the boys. First one son, then two, then three, and finally three plus a dog.

Those times away from the kids, while complicated and often stressful to plan, were necessary to my well-being.  Weeks where I could be a woman, not a mom. Carefree vs structured. Wild instead of disciplined. A reset for my soul and a deeper connection for our partnership.  My turn now to pay it forward.

Moving as a family instead of a couple again. School drop offs and homework. Finishing the dishes just as a child walks in and announces they are hungry. Baseball practices and swim lessons. Diaper changes and middle of the night tears.  Getting three children ready for an outing. Not easy.

My sons are quite close to my mom and dad and I have always credited that to those weeks when my parents shifted from couple to family. I see the same happening with my grandchildren. When they have to come to me for the hug after a fall and I get to tuck them in bed and be the first face they see as they wake. The connection deepens.

On the final morning my oldest grandson came down and said “You know what Nana? I’m really excited for mom and dad to come home, but then I am also sad you are leaving.”

Me too, I told him as I prepared to shift back to life as a couple.

Deeper,
SARAH

....never alone

Yogis,
Fifteen hours. Three taxis. Two ferries. Two planes. And two miles of walking to accomplish all of the above. This describes my trip home after thirteen days in the Virgin Islands. My happy place.

When you want to spend time on islands like St John and Anegada there is effort in the getting to and getting from processes. Even once settled in there is effort to hiking and even getting to the beach itself. Steep slopes. Rocks. Uneven terrain. Sand roads. Not for everyone. Which is exactly its appeal for me.

The physical-ness means few people vacation there.

In Anegada our morning routine was walking four miles on the only road. Narrow and unpaved it offers spectacular views of other islands in the distance and glimpses of the water in every color of blue imaginable. On a typical day one lone car would pass. As the roar of the engine would fade in the distance only sounds of birds and waves remained once again.

It was on one of these walks that I realized what defines my perfect vacation. Natural beauty……and very few humans. Not an easy thing to find these days. Hence…..the effort.

It isn’t that I don’t like people. I love people! And there are times I am drawn to venture to cities unseen and follow along with the crowds to witness monuments, art and views. But when I feel the most like me is when I am alone with the world and my thoughts.

Yet the more alone I get, the more I see I am never alone.

Each morning I would send a picture to my parents and sister. On about day five my dad commented that he expected to see more pictures of margaritas and surf scenes, but he liked this better. I realized then that all the pictures I shared were of non-human creatures.

A starfish who surprised me with her plumpness. A stingray in ankle deep water. The rooster who stood beneath our chairs in hopes of crumbs falling to the ground. The donkeys who amble directly toward the open window of the jeep when we pull over to take in a view. The cow who stood pensively on the dune in front of our tent at sunrise to witness the ocean before rejoining the herd.

The silly and somewhat phallic cacti which I have fallen in love with over the years. And oh my, the rainbows………

Floating in the ocean listening to my breath with no one in sight, pelicans float overhead. What a gift to experience the wonders of the world alone.

Yet never alone,
SARAH

.....steward

Yogis,
It’s the time of year where I can’t help but write about English ivy….  Oh, how I wish the issue of her spread would go away on its own. If only she could offer color during the dreary winter months but remain sparse on trees. Sigh. Instead she continues her sprint forward, so I put thoughts to paper once again.

English ivy, the kind you picture climbing stone buildings, was brought to the US as early as 1727 by European settlers. Everyone loved how it’s green all year, fills in bare spots and requires no care. But we loved it a bit too much, so it is now invasive and threatens our trees.

Each late winter, I spend time cutting back ivy and other invasive vines (of which there are several new ones) from my trees. Last year I took it further and joined a group called ‘tree friends’, trained by the Park Service on slowing ivy. The group gathers in county areas to help save trees.

There isn’t an ivy fairy in your yard though. Even landscapers ignore ivy unles you specifically ask and pay for it. Garden centers continue to sell it for planting. Don’t!

It has me thinking about stewardship.

For those of us that own a home, the land it sits on which we claim as ‘ours’ (which isn’t really) deserves our care. The trees, birds, insects and plants need us to be attentive. To notice when an invasive has entered and take action. To be a good steward of the incredible gift we have been given.

Stroll around your property! Check every tree. Look at bushes and up against the house.

Ivy starts innocently enough. It thickens to engulf a trunk. It soon covers leaves blocking photosynthesis. Limbs begin looking ragged. Branches fall. The tree is smothered if it isn’t first blown over from weight. A slow death.

Best to catch it early when it can be removed. However, there is no need to get it all off. Removing ivy from ankle to knee with clippers or a small hand saw will kill what is above and the tree will breathe free again.

After stewarding your piece of earth, mention it to neighbors who have ivy on their trees. Most people don’t know. Maybe lend a hand to a tree in a common area. Earth will be grateful.

Being a steward,
SARAH

....the silence between

Yogis,
What caught my attention first this morning was the geese. Flying overhead in formation they headed inland for their day in the fields. A large V shape slicing through the morning sky. And they had a lot to say. Soon they faded off into the distance.

Only a moment later I begin to hear another flock. Much honking ensued above me before they too can no longer be seen or heard. Then another flock. And another. My run filled with the coming and going of sounds of geese.

Arriving at the boardwalk the geese are now replaced by waves. The unmistakable sound of a wave growing until it reaches a peak. Then the thrill of the crash. Over and over in a familiar rhythm. I hear the next wave building as my heartbeat quickens. I wait for it……the crash. Boom.

Then there is a moment of silence.

It’s so quick it would be easy to miss. The following swell already revving up. Yet today I notice. My attention now shifts and I begin seeking out the space between sounds. The gap that exists between the end of one wave and the formation of another. I listen.

Our breath flows the same way. The inhale is the beginning. Building and expanding until it too reaches a peak. The exhale is the dropping and letting go. Then there is a pause.

The pause is always there.

I run back through our patch of woods, startling a squirrel who makes a rustling sound as he scampers across dried leaves. He stops to look back. Silence. Again he runs and heads partway up the tree. He pauses with head cocked. Silence.

Everything moves in a cycle and as each reaches its end, there is a pause. A gap between movements. A space between thoughts. An opening between breaths. In these voids there is nothing, yet everything comes from there. In the blink of an eye a new breath rises.

I invite you to seek the silence. As you sit here, close your eyes and begin watching your breath. Observe the building of the inhale and the release of the exhale. Then wait for the silence. Patience. It is always there.

This is a practice and offers many gifts. In this space, profound peace can be found.

I hear more geese coming,
SARAH

.....running girls

Yogis,
This year I hit several forty-year milestones. Forty years! Wow. That is a long time.

I was married in 1984 on a sunny snow-covered January day. Days after my 22^nd birthday I said ‘I do’ and I continue to do to this day. My oldest son turns forty this year. I’m not sure how that is possible. Watching him with his three brings back memories that feel so recent. And forty years of owning a home.

Then there are friendships. Many also coming up to that 40-year mark as friends are often made during early parenting days when we yearn to connect with others to share the craziness.

Several of those friendships were developed while wearing running shoes.

I ran off and on in high school, but once I had a baby and full-time job, I needed a time of day that was mine with no conflicts where I could move my body. The only time that fit these stringent requirements was 5:30 am.

It began with me and a new friend across the street. Over the next couple years other women with the same needs joined. Four mornings a week we met in front of someone’s house in the dark…..with our dogs…..and ran a few miles. And talked. And laughed. And cried.

We referred to ourselves as the ‘running girls’ and at times we numbered 7 or 8 runners and 5 dogs. You couldn’t miss us as we ran up ‘the big hill’.

We ran through marriages. Divorces. Births and deaths. Illnesses, injuries and joys. We were charged by a beaver, watched a deer leap over a man passing on his motorcycle, were flashed (yuck) and learned where the port-o -johns were. A woman chased us in her car in pajamas to tell us we were too loud and we have many toenail stories.

We even held a holiday gift exchange breakfast each December at 5:30 am.

Year after year we arrived and ran. Did some races but what mattered most was the time spent in quiet mornings. How many people do you get to talk to for a half hour every day? And no matter how much we talked on the run, at the end we stood in a circle and talked some more.

Time and change have scattered us so we don’t see each other much. Yet when we do, the bond created by running through life together awakens instantly.

Friendship,
SARAH

....inconvenient

Yogis,
It’s hard to believe that it was almost 20 years ago the movie ‘Inconvenient Truth’ was produced. We were bluntly shown how our humanness is affecting the world, yet here we sit two decades later with plastics so all-pervasive they are found in our water, bodies and the breast milk our babies ingest in their first moments of life.

Whether you liked, believed, agreed with or even watched the movie, he did have one thing absolutely right. The truths are inconvenient.   

We thrive on convenience. Plastic revolutionized our culture. Buy it. Use it. Throw it away! Single servings. Vacuum packed. Portable. Even lettuce comes in plastic.

But wait…..there is recycling! And I have some land I want to sell you. Or the equipment that is combing plastic out of the ocean? Uh, no. No one can solve this for us. We are the only solution and it is extremely inconvenient. We have to stop using plastic. Aaaahhhh!

I am taking steps but it is painstakingly slow and plastic still fills my bin.  Thought I would share some of what I learned and found and would love to hear your discoveries.

When shopping I place produce directly in my cart, walking past those plastic bags. Once home I put them in green reusable produce bags. I use Debbie Meyers. Once empty I rinse and air dry them. They last months and months and keep the veggies far fresher.

I am on a subscription toothpaste bits program. No plastic tubes. It only took my mouth a short time to adjust and I love them. A glass jar is provided for storage with refills sent in a paper envelope.

  

After turning down the detergent aisle at Target and seeing rows upon rows of enormous bright plastic staring my way, I made the switch to laundry sheets. They come in a carboard box and I am quite happy. Check.

I’m in the process of trying out shampoo bars. I like my newest one. And for the body…….a bar of soap. Remember those?

I won’t buy peppers wrapped in plastic. I have bought glass containers in many sizes for leftovers (no more plastic wrap or baggies) and silicone lids for cans and placing cut fruit in. And I have ordered plastic free dishwasher pods (yes that squishy casing contains plastic).

People often say these little changes won’t matter. I choose not to believe that. If we all stopped buying plastic, companies would stop making it. Remember, there is no ‘they’. There is only us.

Inconvenienced and ok,
SARAH

.....a new turn

Yogis,
Each time I walk Phoebe she has a strong opinion on our route. Early morning she walks straight ahead to take me down the street. Evenings are a sharp right turn from the property. If I try a different direction her feet plant, and she will point her nose toward the preferred route.

The afternoon beach walk is no exception. Going down the front steps she is already leaning right with downtown her destination. We head down the north side of Rehoboth Ave and after crossing 1^st street, her pace quickens. Thrashers Fries is on the left and with their generous fill everyone inevitably drops a fry or two while walking away. Score!  

We reach the boardwalk where she takes a right and then another to lead us up the south side of the street. Within a block her nose quivers. Grotto pizza leaves a large bowl of dog biscuits in front (and water which no dog seems to touch). I give her one and on we go.

Next a quick left down Penny Lane, a narrow alley with cute shops, including a liquor store which also provides a treat bowl. Yes! This one she discovered only recently but is now a required visit on any stroll.

At the end of the alley, she turns right. Freddie’s had a treat bowl once because it was dinner time, but usually we are much too early. She insists we check anyway.  On the best of days, it is a four-treat walk!

We do this over, and over, and over.  Life rewards her for this habit so there is no deviation. But what if there is something fantastic a mere block over? She may never find out……

Life can feel like this walk. There is nothing wrong with that. I too feel my routines have ‘treated’ me quite well. I love them. But at times a voice stirs inside and quietly asks me to take a different turn. This is one of those times.

Little turns. I add a new workout after my runs (thank you @totalsweat!) which lifts me physically and mentally. I start my day with matcha. I suddenly like red wine. I am listening to new music, being a bit more social and …..oh my gosh getting up a half hour later!

Things shift.

Today we took Phoebe on a new walk two towns down. Disappointingly lots of water bowls but not one treat. What! But so many new sights and smells.  Exhilarating!

New turns bring big changes,
SARAH

....the big hill

Yogis,
Finally some snow! After 729 snowless days we were blanketed with four inches on Tuesday, followed quickly by four more on Friday. I had forgotten how truly wonderful a snow day can feel.

Most of Tuesday’s snow fell overnight which doesn’t have quite the same impact as a day spent watching snow fall from the sky. But Friday’s, only forecast to be an inch, began before dawn and continued after dark. A snow that gloriously trimmed every branch and twig with white. The garden transformed as the world became quiet. A red cardinal the solitary splash of color.

Snow days bring back memories.

Like how there weren’t really snow boots when I was young. Plastic baggies went over my shoes, held by rubber bands, and the whole ensemble slid into a rubber boot…..with open tops to ensure snow fell in immediately. The wood and metal sleds which did more sinking into the ground or causing serious injury, than actual sledding.

Years later, spending an hour getting all three of my boys bundled up to hike to the big hill. A perfect wide steep sledding hill in a magical opening in the woods. Much laughter and tears happened on that big hill. Then in the blink of an eye they were old enough to go themselves, bringing friends back and hanging wet clothing on the radiators.  Red cheeks, hat hair and starving. They would go early and often.

Yesterday we all went to the big hill once again. Now with sons and grandkids in tow.

Nothing has changed. Trying to get little Ben to put his thumb into the thumb part of the glove….with no success. Snowpants, snow boots (although these are now really for snow), coats, scarves, gloves, hats……. A workout just getting everyone ready.

We all had turns and races. Some fared better than others. Attempting the jump and avoiding the tree. My sons recounting stories of days spent on the big hill. Many red cheeks. At least one little one needing to be carried on the way home.

On the way back my grandson Johnny exclaimed that he was starving! All of the wet clothes were strewn across heaters while we heated up the chili and built a fire. Snow days never get old.

What are your snow memories?

Grateful,
SARAH

....skyward

Yogis,
This week I wasn’t sure what to write about. That happens sometimes. Sunday morning will arrive and the sheet in front of me is blank with no inner direction on what words to place there. My heart tightens slightly. Perhaps this is the week when no words will come.

I head out for my morning run with hopes of inspiration when a concrete bench facing the small lake nearby catches my eye. Spotlighted by a golden sun beam it asks me to sit a while. I do. I tell her that in all my years of passing, I don’t think I ever sat. Eyes closed, I feel both the crisp air on my skin and the warmth of the sun. What should I write?

I imagine opening the crown of my head, like the car’s sunroof, trusting that guidance will pour in. As I eventually open my eyes, what I see first is the expansiveness of a brilliant blue sky. A flock of snow geese pass noisily overhead, their bellies glistening from the low morning light. Ah yes.

Winter is when sky becomes the stage.

Arriving at the beach it’s the clouds leading the show. Small ones float midair as they pass quickly over the ocean. Enormous plumes stream one after another over the dune. Multicolored they soon fill the sky with beauty reminding me how small I really am.

Winter is sky season. Look up! With leafless trees and earth sitting quietly we are given the chance to witness the infinite world beyond. Is that a hawk I see soaring above?

Yes, there are wonders to behold if you shift your gaze skyward. But there are other gifts as well. The phrase ‘things are looking up’ didn’t arise from nowhere. When we make a habit of looking upward, our chest and heart follow and our mood shifts. Unlimited possibilities present themselves. Gifts, such as inspiration, pour down.

The new crescent moon hangs low in the sky as the sun begins her descent. Pinks, purples and orange paint the horizon. As she finally leaves us behind the sky darkens. Walking through the deep black of a winter night you can’t help but notice the stars. They seem to shine a bit brighter this time of year.

The big dipper frames the east sky as I look up.  

Thank you bench,
SARAH

....the windows

Yogis,
Our great room faces the back yard and is lined with windows.  I always think of these as both my artwork and movie screen.

I often walk to the windows and peek out to see what’s going on. Much of the year there is plenty going on. Birds arguing over who gets to nest in the house attached to the garage. Sparrows standing on the edge of the birdbath fluffing their wet feathers. Squirrels chasing each other in circles and deer biting the buds off my black eyed susans.

The woods so dense with leaves you would never know anyone lives beyond. The garden glows with color. Butterflies float and bees take their work seriously. A flurry of activity.

Winter though, is different.

This morning as I sat at the table something caught my eye out the window. I turned in time to see a flash of red as our resident woodpecker flew through the yard. Landing he prepared for pecking. How could I not notice with a background that now contains only gray?

My windows offer a different glimpse this season. Winter, related to the element of earth, carries the energies of quiet and stillness. On most of my visits to the window there is nothing to see. Everything lies at rest. A hush.

Yet, what better time to notice.

The other day I was thinking of the fox when I looked out to see one walking the ridge. I could see him clearly in the distance. No brush or leaves obstructing my view. My gaze followed as he ambled through yards and into the woods. Stopping to smell. The black of his lower legs resembling boots.

Like the woodpecker, in any other season I probably wouldn’t have noticed.

This too is our time to get quiet and still. A pause. The quieter we are, the more we will notice. In our own lives, in our relationships and in the world around us.

The other seasons are the symphony. Each instrument playing its part in unison to surround us with song. Winter though, is the spotlight shined on the soloist. How we can appreciate the trumpet more. How the violin brings us to tears.

Noticing,
SARAH

....a word

Yogis,
Here we stand again. Feet on the starting line of a brand-new year. Didn’t we just do this? Staring into blank space ahead and being asked what it is we want. What do you want this year to look like. To feel like. What you want to create and what you want to walk away from.

As images begin to form, I find it can be quite helpful to frame it in a word. A word that when you think it or speak it aloud holds the energy of what you want the year to become.

I have been doing this for a while now…..and always invite you to join me. Naming a word of the year holds much more power than making resolutions. It states your intention yet gives plenty of space for twists and turns. Put it out there and then be flexible to where it takes you.

Two years ago, I chose responsibility. Wanting to be clear that I am part of the problem. No finger pointing at ‘they’ and making conscious changes to be part of the solution. It led to things like composting and being a bit more open to hearing other points of view. Last year I chose beauty. Giving attention to the beauty that always sits close. The beauty of the vase of flowers on my table as much as the beauty of a rainy day.  

This year the word that came to me was ‘simple.’

Our world has become complicated. Life has become complicated. I hear myself bemoaning the fact too often these days. But has it really? Do the fox in my yard see life becoming more complicated? Does the sun notice? I realized the world hasn’t changed. It is only us. Adding layer upon layer to life, which itself is fairly simple.

I intend to see how I can be more simple. Live more simply. Even writing that feels like a big step.

Once you have a word it is good to look up definitions. Simple: Easily understood or done. Basic or uncomplicated in nature or design. Used to convey that something is straightforward. Post your word where you see it often or use it on a regular basis to make it part of daily life. If you get my notes via email you saw that my final picture almost always had a caption of ‘beauty is everywhere’ this year. Reminding myself.

What is your word of the year? Let it rise naturally as it will be your partner for 365 days.

Simply,
SARAH