Kids up, Henry demands breakfast, I try to work in the nook.  Distracted, interrupted…. No matter, the day is the day.

Sip espresso, ready for another one.  Old pictures, vineyard walks, my meditation in this seat.  Smiling my way through angst, overthought.

Clearing throat, stretching… talking self out of lull, any mood mud.

Second espresso into cup…. More notes.  Shake it off.

I’m alive, see with my kids… the day checks me, regulates.  Stops any descent.  Smile.

Thinking too, devilish dwell.

Shouldn’t be blogging, only penning.  Ink.  Leaving…

First, staring at the pictures… scribbles, a page, a day, me.