Ten.Two Hundred & Seventy-Three
1. Footsteps. I am not amused.
2. Maybe there will be bagels for breakfast. I am unsure of what to make this morning. There is not enough butter left for baking. Not enough bread left for toast. No granola and only a touch of milk.
3. You can't please everyone. Even when there are bagels.
4. What I had not expected was the amount of private messages I would receive. Not nosy. More like expressions of concern and noticing.
5. Grocery day. He is leaving as I am coming in. Him in bright blue shoes. There are only a few things in his cart today: two gallons of skim milk, a large package of chicken breasts and something else I can't quite see.
6. This morning I linger, remembering that there really is no other place I need to be.
7. Because it is spring and because what I intend to do is make a home, I decide that today I will wash all of the baseboards, trim, and doors.
8. How even in only a year a home can take such a beating.
9. Where are the safe spaces, the quiet spaces, the warm spaces where we retreat to for comfort, care, inspiration, and rejuvenation? What does it mean to provide them? How do you create them? Where are they already in existence? Who gets access to them?
10. Full on pasta, wine, and fellowship.