It's a beautiful day, actually. A nice light breeze, sunshine, clear and seventeen, which is my favorite weather-you can wear a sweater or not, pinned around your shoulders and otherwise it's good for strappy blue-green embroidered dresses and pretty sage green ballet flats. They talked about thunderstorms earlier but you'll never get the kind you see in the prairies so I'm not concerned yet. I've been to the bank to change addresses and collect some spending cash and to the farmer's market for fresh fruit and some more tomatoes. I went for coffee with Duncan, Daniel and Joel and I've come home now to fold the mountain of laundry that's waiting for me and do a few things around the house before I run up the hill to get the children for the afternoon. They'll be pleased, I also picked up cheese and strawberries. They love those for afternoon snacks.
Ben is home, headphones on, writing, madly. He kind of looks like me when I am very wobbly in a different way and he kind of looks like he always has, save for the glass beside him, that isn't orange juice lately but whiskey and water because he wants to burn, because he wants to float and be creative and forget and just be without that weight that never truly lifts. This is the magic hour when he is quiet. God help the first one of you who breaks that today.
I might join him if I had that sort of personality that allows for letting go but I do not, I have to be forced, and lately there has been enough of that.
Going to go sit outside in the sun, as soon as my chores are finished.
