Ten.Three Hundred & Thirty-Six

1. 4:45 am sounds like I have enough time to reintroduce a yoga practice.  

2. I go down to the basement and turn on the laptop. I don’t know where my yoga mat is but I find the box of Pendleton blankets and decide it will do. 30 minutes. I can do this. 

3. Blueberry turnovers for them. I eat a leftover salad.  

4. I think of things I’d like to say but choose to keep them private. That is the dance. How much can you reveal and still maintain your privacy. Not everyone needs to know everything. Not everyone should know most  things. 

5. I’ll need to harvest some things tomorrow.  

6. The pool combines some of my least favorite things: crowds and the possibility of danger/death. But maybe once they are all confident and capable swimmers I’ll be able to relax.  

7. Nap.  

8. Cravings: curtains, pictures frames, a new hammock for the stand. 

9. There are these small trees that sit at the top of the hill and when their little trunks are bent because of the way the wind blows through them. They remind me of the windswept tree you sometimes see on the hillsides of California. 

10. I love his love of the stars but I’m getting cold and so I go in. He puts on his jacket and takes the phone back out and looks for Venus and tracks the moon. We watch him from the upstairs window as he gazes at the sky.