If only I could sleep a little longer.

A watched pot never boils.

Her kids are getting so big. The youngest girl is wearing a pair of shorts I handed down so many years ago.

Cancelled practice = gift.

But was it really necessary?

We talk for two and a half hours. I miss our long talks during her visits back home. But the likelihood of either of us going back “home” is slim. The phone will have to do.

I get mad just thinking about it. Mad and scared. But mostly mad.

I agree with him. This is a tight rope to walk. How far can I push without alienating? But also, they need to read some books.

There are less beautiful places to be sitting on a Sunday evening.

Beauty is what will keep me alive.