Ten.Two Hundred & Seventy

1. Window streaky with rain. Today is an indoor day.

2. The low grumble of a machine that I can't quite name. A truck rounds the curve dragging a large trailer behind it filled with scrap metal. Garbage day is tomorrow. He's too early.

3. This reminds me to ask my neighbor for scraps of plywood.

4. I miss the weight of my camera. 

5. We're the first ones at Chuck E. Cheese. This seems like the worst idea but it's the best. I shoot basketball with the oldest, watch my youngest perfect his aim shooting at thin yellow ducks, and encourage my daughter to do something else other than the get-rich-quick ticket schemes, all before the madness of late morning.

6. I whisper "vanilla milkshake" but the kids still hear.

7. Ok. I know what I want to do. So now, what?

8. I start the soup and the sky is gray and the light in the kitchen is soft and I want to grab my camera to capture the quiet moodiness of it all. It feels ordinary and significant.

9. As the soup simmers I sit down to write two long overdue letters. In them I apologize for my tardiness. It seems necessary to do so, even though I know the expanse of grace under which I am covered. 

10. Comedians in Cars Getting Coffee