I’ll get up when he gets up.

What am I to do with these braids?

Waking up a preteen is a thing.

Freshly tilled fields over on this side of town. What will be planted?

Rhone, Loire, Languedoc-Roussillon, Armagnac, and Cognac. I manage to get a good chunk of reading done. There is much that I do still remember. There is a lot that I don’t.

So quiet.

I tell him that it was nice to have a Saturday off. It’s been so long since I had a Saturday off. And this one was slow. There was plenty to do but there was an ease about it. Chai and snacks and water and good time to study.

He tells me that maybe Napa will not be the place. I don’t disagree. What I do want is greater proximity to the things I find culturally relevant: museums, art, good food, a literary scene, talks and what not. I like here a lot. It’s a beautiful, friendly suburb. But I’m too far out. I tell him that I don’t want to repeat what we did in Oswego. I don’t want to love my house but be so far from the things that feed my creativity.

When is roast chicken not a good idea?

I miss baking bread. After this exam, I’ll get back into the kitchen. “After the exam.” I feel like everything is on hold.