Just Me and the Cat

I asked Molly to get up early with me but my version of early and hers are two very different ideas. Michael's out of town for work so I'm the coffee maker. French press with cinnamon, delicious fall flavor in the midst of summer. It's always when things get hot and begin to dry out, when gardens are starting to burst, that I begin to imagine fall. The doors are open to let in the cool morning air. I think I can hear my little fountain over the fan humming through the floor below Oliver's bedroom. These days can feel monotonous with no way to break them up with a nice lunch out or a trip to the store. These things are not available to us any longer. Or, at least, not without a mask. So I've been creating my own oasis here at home. New outdoor furniture coming so we can enjoy "dining out" quite literally. Along with the furniture, we've installed a large blue umbrella, misters, pots of beautiful flowers and the aforementioned fountain. But it's much harder on my new adults. Aside from the ridiculously sad ending to Molly's senior year, how can either of them move forward to create lives for themselves? Stuck here staring at mom and dad is not the deal. Molly tells me to stop baking. My go to comfort is to fill the house with yummy smells. The kind where you taste the butter before you've even removed it from the oven. Two polar thoughts going on in this house, our dining room is now a gym and yet I'm baking as if the holidays were upon us. It's hard to imagine the holidays this year. No family visits, no dining room table (I actually cried when Michael packed it up and took it to the storage unit), no place to put a tree...so I guess I bake to make everything feel grounded? Well, whatever the case, Molly tells me to stop. Oh, wait, I can hear the fountain!

Another Summer, Long Ago