It's a slow morning with a swing and a toddler making up a song. It's Jess playing guitar in the shade with a wind and a temperature which makes me think, "It's going to be a good August."
It's burning myself with a blood pressure cuff, and a lady who has seen all kinds of crazy medical stuff saying, "I've never seen that before."
And me responding, "Oh good. A first."
It's my parents' anniversary. Forty-six years marked by working in the yard and finishing up with a steak dinner. It says something, doesn't it? The tenacity. The persistence. The evolution of love is like that virus from science class. Maybe complexity is overrated.
It's an email from Kate saying, Hey. Did you know you had been chosen? I'm going on vacation. You can either drop the work off across the street or wait till I get back on August 16th.
It's me replying, Holy crap. I can do it now.
Dear August Budget,
I need some money. I'm willing to go light on food this month.
Please and thank you,
Today I am grateful to once again place some of my favorite things on the windowsill above the kitchen sink. Though escapism makes for beautiful dreams, I don't want to miss what is right in front of me.