That’s good sleeping in.

I opt for comfort. I think back to when I told her that I tend to dress for comfort and tend to forget that we can dress for confidence. They are sometimes the same thing but often not.

She’s sick. We’ll push it back to next week. I am grateful for the cancellation. On to cleaning toilets.

A rod of anger. He asks me why I’m angry. The anger is not really anger. I mean, it is. I know what is frustrating to me. But really I’m just tired and needing solitude.

I should not have come, but here I am, and It’s just an opportunity to practice patience and presence. I think that this is really something, What a bunch crock it all is, the encouragement for overconsumption.

What is the alternative? I mean, realistically. Because I also refuse to run away.

I break off pieces of the roof. The gingerbread cookie itself is not so sweet, but the icing is just sweet enough. I try not to leave a trail of crumbs.

I curl up in his bed just to be alone. It's quiet back in this corner. It's the smallest room in the house but also one of the coziest.

In the next house, there will be a wood-burning fireplace.

Writing. Learning how to be a better steward of the land. Learning how to communicate with members of my community. Growing confidence. Shifting people's perceptions by asking questions that matter. Quieting the mind. Yoga. Centering Pleasure. Meals that nourish and delight. More books. Solitude.