This is the first Friday since August that I haven't had a doctor's appointment first thing in the morning. Instead I woke to yellow at the window--the tree out front, green just a few days ago, has turned completely gold. It's been very Seattle here lately; lots of rain and gray days. At night, the air smells like wet leaves.
Midterm grades opened today: halfway there already. Finally I step back and watch them design their marketing campaigns, workshop each other's linebreaks, know each other's names. Even if they're still spelling mine wrong.
In the kitchen: kale, cauliflower, locally pressed cider, cream cheese, Gruyère, top round, the makings for carrot cake, pumpkin ice cream, fresh sage, white beans, crusty bread. I am taking T-Rex's advice and cooking the B a birthday dinner. I can type this because he is holed up on campus, holding the fiftieth student conference in two days. Hopefully stroganoff and cake will unkink his spine.
We've been in this apartment nearly five months and finally it feels comfortable. Here is an orange chair. Here is a door I broke. Here is a couch where I've napped. Here is where we line up our shoes. Here is where we live, together.
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