Ten.Six Hundred & Forty-Five
That dream was weird.
Scones topped with cinnamon and sugar. I want to fall back in love with cooking.
He’s reading me stats from his baseball card. It’s too early for pretending to have any kind of attention span for this.
I grab a bell off the wall and walk into his room. “Wake up! Wake up! Wake up!” I do need to get him an alarm. Though I don’t think it would help very much.
I can’t tell if they are arguing or if the car has broken down or what. Most likely one or the other wasn’t paying close enough attention. This intersection is weird.
I vacuum the carpets and mop the floors. I use the dish Jennette made and gifted to us to catch the ashes from the sage. Happiness, peace, and light. I repeat the words from this morning’s loving kindness meditation.
People are strange.
Maybe I am doing too much.
We try to explain to him about the great snail migration that takes place each morning. He thinks the birds eat them. I think they travel to and from certain places in the yard. Or maybe it’s the a different group each time.
Another pair of broken glasses.