Not enough sleep.

Another cool, gray morning. A sweater over the tank top.

Some of these plants are, dare I say, thriving.

85%. But what about the other 15%?

I gotta stop watching this.

Forks up.

Life’s problems don’t change, but sometimes they are easier to deal with in 80 degrees, sunshine, and an hour’s drive from the beach.

She asks us if we work together. We say we used to. We’re not far, but no longer as close. Picpoul, tartare, salmon, grilled bundt cake.

The back deck is shaded. I am tired. I try to read but I can’t keep my eyes open. I close them. The birds are chatty this afternoon. There is a gentle breeze. I had forgotten how much I love these kind of summer afternoons.

She comes back tonight.