Ready for mornings with the fireplace aglow.

Bats.

Thanksgiving is creeping up, which means Christmas is, too. I am not ready.

Early. Just me and the quiet. Dark offices. Spilling my half-oat-milk-half-coffee all over my desk. Clickity clack of the keyboard.

Soft.

I want it to be better.

Dare I say what is missing is feminine leadership?

Window-down weather.

I count eight today. I will be missing two or three tomorrow. Eight is not enough.

She says more words to me in those five minutes than I heard all last season and I am shocked. Pleasantly surprised. Maybe everything will be okay afterall.