Ten.Five Hundred & Thirty-Four
The elf. Almost done with the elf.
I set out breakfast. I like this more continental thing we’ve been doing lately. Less waste and no one seems to be complaining.
What is the opposite of gloam? What are the other words to describe the very beginning of morning right before the first hint of light?
We take a different path. What’s that smell? Is it this bush? Oh, no. The sidewalks are lined in rosemary bushes, or something like a rosemary, cut square to look like hedges. We run our fingers through the leaves and then smell them. I think about how being here is sensory overload but in the best possible way.
I like secret projects. This feels good.
We don’t have much time to talk but it is enough.
The light, the light, the light. I can see me in here.
The three of us rocking out to Paramore in the pick-up line, waiting for the oldest.
Having a kid in the front seat is pretty cool The conversations shift when you are side-by-side. Also: how is he almost 11?
The sunset. It looks like there’s a beam of fire shooting right out of the top of Mt. Diablo. Will this ever get old? I don’t think it will.