Friday August 18th

 It is pouring buckets here today.  We are almost in a drought again.  I love the rain.

The secret paths and twists and turns of the Franciscan Monastery.  Visits with St. Francis of Assisi and Kateri Tekakwitha. Ducks who swim in the ocean and walk across the seaweed.  

Registration for the common application is complete.   Work on college essays. Turning in summer homework. Remembering that he will have Senior privileges this year.  And still having him hold my arm when we walk through the Port.

The crowded bakery so early this morning.  Humid.  Yeast.  Neighbors.  Summer.  

A long and hot epsom salt bath.  Don Julio over ice.  Arnica cream on tight muscles.  

Saying no, when I mean no.  And saying it again and again, when it's not heard. ​

She loves her summer job.  Working with little kids who love music and drama and theater as much as she does.  "Mom, the little kids want to sit on my lap.  Mom, I choreographed a song this week."  This is her joy.  

Brooklyn Candle Company candles.  Favorite scents are tobacco and firewood. 

Being reminded about who I am not, and who I do not want to be.

The conversations with our favorite medical social worker, about how rare it is to be a female doctor who cuts through bones. 

A stop at the community pharmacy.  

A walk in the puddles to get ice cream on this cold and rainy night.