1. I woke up late again. An hour later than I usually do.
2. He's eaten both bags of the candied walnuts. And I know I shouldn't be mad, but I am. And I tell him so while he's drinking his coffee and I'm pouring mine.
3. The deer is back and she is still unnamed. I am wondering if I should name her at all since she doesn't belong to me.
4. I take my cup upstairs, make the bed, grab a light blanket to throw over myself. The littlest one and I watch another half of Jurassic Park. I will miss this when school resumes.
5. I forget how important it is to rest. Quiet corners and adequate rest. Yes, more of this please.
6. I want to paint this wall black.
7. That feeling you get when you go back over the words you tried to call into your life: freedom, community, gather, vision, sweet, and delicious.
8. "Wine is dead." He says this and I instantly understand what he means.
9. But why is this person still here, still saying things to me?
10. In the shower I repeat (with my best Italian accent): "F-L-A-P. Franciacorta. Lambrusco. Asti. Prosecco."