Ten.Seventy

1. I wake up before the alarm and then stay in bed after it goes off. The sickness has traveled from the nose into the throat and chest.  

2. This morning is layers and light foam and staring out the window over the kitchen sink waiting for the sun to turn the grass gold-green. 

3. I complain a lot but really I do prefer the spaciousness of our mornings. 

4. I wonder why I care so much about certain things and yet not enough about others. Is it really true that how you do one thing is how you do everything? I don't think it is.

5. I find a spot underneath the tent where I can see all three kids. I am sweating and my nose is still running and occasionally I get up to give a few kids a high five. I'm glad I get to do these kinds of things. I don't want to give up this freedom. 

6. I prepare the pot roast for dinner. Her recipe never fails. Brown the onions and the the carrots. Sear the meat on all sides and then deglaze the pan with red wine. (Tonight it's a bottle of Primitivo.) Put everything back into the pan with beef stock and fresh herbs. (I cut generous amounts of rosemary and oregano from the bushes out back.) Stick it in the oven.  

7. I play with him in the backyard,  a badminton type of game. He keeps asking me to play. I keep saying yes. I keep enjoying it more than I think I will. 

8. I want to rest my eyes before dinner but I just keep rehearsing phrases for the workshop. 

9. Honey to coat the throat.  

10. Who am I?