pacific northwest

Ten years gone

I had a talk with Lily about the scenario where both mom and dad get sick and someone has to assume control of the house, which would fall to Lily.

My beard was getting thick enough I could tug on it in a way that both hurt and felt good at the same time.

In less than a week I ate most of a small ham by myself, oftentimes eating it cold by my computer for breakfast with a hard-boiled egg and coffee.

There was a lot to celebrate still.

Lily practices the piano with her teacher on FaceTime and asks if he can teach her the song River, by Joni Mitchell.

I drove into town to deposit a check around 8, Sunday morning, light fog and no one around.

How the days unfurled unexpected and just hung there in the light.