Ten.Five Hundred & Seventy-Three
Here we go again.
I need to get back to making a solid breakfast.
I don’t know how he did it but he got him out of his room and making his lunch. Some days there is not enough coffee for this kind of stress.
I can’t get the smell of the salmon out of the fridge.
He tells us that we’re better off just getting a minivan. We laugh. It’s just the practical thing to do. But the aesthetic.
The cannelloni is al dente and the filling is creamy and light. The red sauce is bright and with just the right amount of acid to cut the creaminess of the cannelloni filling. Tiramisu to finish. One glass of Clelia Romano Colli di Lapio Fiano di Avellino , one bottle of Pinot Nero, one cup of coffee—black.
I turn my face up to the sun and lean against the parking meter while we wait for the dealership shuttle. No regrets, no regrets.
The three of us talk and realize that we’re on the same page. Let’s talk more about effort and potential, the need to not have it right, that we’re on his side.
So much to think about.