Ten.Sixty-Six

1. First one up. The light this morning is so orange. I'm fascinated.

2. Bacon, hash browns, scrambled eggs, coffee, orange juice. This Monday feels like Sunday. 

3. I follow the orange light around the house. It starts in the office and then moves into the corner at the base of the stairs before floating up the wall and then disappearing behind the cloud cover.

4. The warmth of this floor.

5. We've decided that today we'll just lay in bed and watch wine documentaries all day: A Year in Burgundy, Somm: Into the Bottle, A Year in Port. 

6. "History gives wine heart and soul."

7. We drink a few glasses of Savenniers while we watch.

8. I'm daydreaming about working a harvest when we move to California. About getting my feet wet with grapes. I'll learn how to prune leaves or maybe just bend them down to an elevated wire like Lalou does with her vines. And French. I'm going to learn French.

9. Leftovers for dinner. Ribs and baked potatoes and green beans.

10. I stand at the window and watch the limbs sway. The sun is pulsating, haunting. I don't even know why I'm so fascinated with the light today. Maybe it was just that the day was so deliciously slow and quiet that this one thing, the pink-orange sun and it's oddly colored light, made me feel like a child again.