Ten.Nine Hundred & Sixty-Three

1. Two dreams. Both about community, being in groups. The first dream was my Resistance Served family. The people in the second one were unfamiliar. I know, I know. I’m meant to do community work.

2. Same time each morning. Chorus of bird song. They sound like they are in the walls. Maybe in the chimney? It’s loud, so loud.

3. Coffee, milk, and orange juice.

4. Drop biscuits. I forget how good these are until I break one open and bite into it. So light and fluffy. She says she doesn’t like drop biscuits. She’s wrong.

5. Target first thing in the morning is not so bad. I see faces that look like mine and then ask myself again, “Am I willing to move to where I am the one and only again? Am I willing to do that to myself and my kids?”

6. A field of wild mustard.

7. I just want everyone else to love a clean home as much as I do. Don’t they know I’m a Cancer?

8. Bryant Terry’s fried smashed potatoes. But first the corn relish. The corn is not as sweet as I’d like it to be but in the summer when the Brentwood Sweet Corn returns, it will take this recipe to another level.

9. I miss my art.

10. That’s what I can hold on to. I can hold on to the coming bounty of spring. I can hold on to plum tarts and peach cobblers and tomatoes sprinkled with flaky salt and figs drizzled with olive oil. Little pleasures that tether.