I push against his back to wake him.

Headlamps. Where are the headlamps? I remove my sweater. It's too warm for this many layers. Can't find the headlamps.

“What are you doing? It's almost 3am.”

Sixty minutes.

We make the school loop and then head down to pick up the cases.

Fog sitting below the smokey haze.

Quiet.

Leftover potatoes and vegetables for lunch. A few more hours before kids are home again.

“I don't have time to do anything.” I kind of like that.

Garage door won't open. “The power is out,” they say. I'd rather be without power that without water.

I tell him that the interesting thing about this is that life keeps on going. You can't just press pause.