Sunday.

I’m sick again so I stayed home from church and stirred the soup until everyone came home.

I never thought I’d live in Alabama, but I like it. It’s especially quiet out here, off the road. It’s good for thinking and for being something.

Mamma Cat sits outside my window when I’m waking up in the mornings. Red cardinals come through the yard every day. And there are deer.

There will be flowers to plant when it’s warm again; there will be things to paint and repair. Small flowers, little things to make the place better.

It’s not forever, because seasons change. I know. But I feel it now. I’m happy to watch the sun come up, to work with my hands, and to notice small things.

It’s good to know places that let you be something.