Ten.One Thousand, Eight Hundred & Thirty-One
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Almost don’t want to do it.
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Cool, cool morning. The kind of morning that reminds you that fall is coming. Except for today, it will still be almost 100 degrees.
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I walk over to him to fix his posture; I find it all amusing. All those limbs and no flexibility.
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The taste of coffee.
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Palo santo and glass cleaner.
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I sit outside and read a book in the quiet, waiting. Just waiting.
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I stare out the open window as we head south down 29. A moment of perfection and gratitude for the sky and the silhouette of mountains, the trees, the clusters on the vine, the cool air blowing into the car.
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A little piece of heaven. I would never leave.
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Pretzel-crusted chicken. Indeed a good choice.
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Can’t sleep.