Monday, November 17, 2025

Breakfast, drift and pour.

1. I start to say no because I've already eaten breakfast and I don't want the work of cooking French toast for everyone else -- but that's not what is being asked. 

2. Day off. I drift between a memoir and a historical novel and a needlework project, half listening to the children's priorities: space ship insurance, a Ralph Lauren hoodie on Vinted, that brand of cola, what one might wear for a funeral.

3. I pour us wine right up to the lozenges at the top of the cut glass pattern.

Wet Sunday, resting and re-do.

1. We wake to the sound of heavy rain -- just right for a simple Sunday. 2. I put my dough in a bowl to rest, and take a quiet half-hour mys...