at mom’s, til Monday morning. hard to focus, to get writing done, to work.

last night, at home, all the things, the common things, the objects. got it in my head early this morning to box some up and give them away. much as I miss being in my (own.now) place, my bed, my rooms, I realized last night and this morning that that space, those rooms, those things are part of this tag team, guerilla, episodic (look! two hours to yourself!) grief and grieving, the start and stop and here and there that’s been the six weeks since mom first needed all the time help and the nearly four months since himself shuffled off. (we still do not know why, Florida medical examiner, really, really, really.)

oh. and the trailer.

mom having a little lie down now.

resisting wine o’clock in the unlikely event I convince myself to try to work.

also: applesauce finished. some batches we like, some we don’t. this we do.