Day 17. 10 small moments
1. The day begins and I am the last one awake. The boys have already eaten and she greets me from her highchair with huge smile. And so Sunday begins...
2. Yesterday was a blur of gardening with the kids and ... I don't remember... but I know that I was crabby and I didn't sleep well. He made me my favorite Filipino breakfast. And so Sunday begins... on a bright sunny note while the rain waters the new plantings.
3. I load up the kids and drive 25 minutes for a play date. One of the few downsides of their school.
4. We nap her in her crib and then work together on the menu edits. I work harder and more calmly when he is next to me.
5. We stop at the cafe. We load up the stools. We stop at the factory. We unload the stools. We stop at a different cafe for a coffee break. We load up the stools. We stop at the first cafe. We unload the stools.... Besides feeling a bit like Sisyphus for an hour, I have to say my drink was delicious and his cortado was killer during our brief coffee break. (And this is the answer as to why people are drawn to cafes: to mercifully interrupt the perceived endless demands of life).
6. I channel Martha Stewart and spend the next hour making fake plant arrangements for the cafe that will be mixed with real flower arrangements. I find the process soothing and meditative, but I'm also proud of my consumer shopping savvy regarding the inexpensive air plants. The two are divergent of each other: real and fake. fake and real.
7. We look at the changes to the patio and he shows me the new patio lights; the burgeoning hops plants; the grasses forming a letter S; the baby lavender.
8. I decide not to give our oil painting of the apples even though it would have been funny. Instead, it will be the acrylic of a jug, a yellow bell pepper and a red apple. I love this painting as well, but I think it will find the cafe to its liking. And vice versa.
9. We breakup a Minecraft argument before dinner, but secretly I totally agree with one of them and not the other.
10. He tells us about the day of showings, and what we might have to do before we put it on the market. When he leaves -- and after the dishes have been cleared -- the conversation begins with, "Let's look at the economics of the whole thing..." even though we'll be on the same page every step of the way. Plus, I've already moved on, and so anything relating to economics for me is weighed in the context of TIME.
