Ten.Seventy-Two

1. I wish I had a better plan for breakfast this morning. 

2. Not cranes, but herons. I think.  

3. The sun at this time of morning is low and this strange pink-orange.  

4. Coffee cake from a box. He tells me that the morning before he saw the deer, both of them. I haven't seen them since before we left for California.  

5. California. I think back to the morning the girl with the dark curly hair at Mini Model assumed that we were locals. And it was the way it made me feel—like anything and everything was possible, even my wildest dreams. 

6. I need to hold on to this.  

7. Peach pie two Sundays in a row. This time I make the lattice with thick ribbons that turn golden brown.  

8. I manage to take a 2-hour nap, so deep that I dream nonsensical dreams of football and children and cakes and faces I want to kiss.  

9. Twice in two days someone has written "I will kill you" on my driveway. It is most likely some child's prank. She confirms that yesterday someone admitted to doing it. But no one knows who wrote it today. It's hard not to take it personal. If it happens again...  

10. Three more mornings until Squam.