Ten.Five Hundred & Thirteen
The lemons are still turning yellow. I don’t understand how any of it works but the fruit is still ripening.
That moment when you eat your own cooking and are amazed. Why are these scones so particularly light and fluffy?
The four of us arrive at the school. The two women at the desks seem friendly enough. There isn’t enough room for all three of them here. This makes me a little nervous.
I let them pick out the foods they think they’ll need for lunch this week. Because now it’s time to get back to school. No one seems to be worried. They aren’t excited but they aren’t nervous either.
All of the linens are finally clean again.
We walk down to the park with a few basketballs. It’s quiet. School is not out yet but there is a small gathering of moms and children at the park. It’s clear enough to see the hills and the turbines.
The leaves are red, so red.
I still love this succulent surrounded by white rock.
The anger isn’t anger. Fear, maybe. Disappointment, maybe.