It rained. All night. It was the most beautiful sound in the world.
I had peanut butter for dinner. On a spoon. Then some edemame. My mother, rest her soul, would not approve. I am thinking about forgiveness. Forgiving my enemies. A Dorothy Day article in the Sun has inspired me. It's a short list.
My mother is on the list.
My contractor insists on talking about the basement and wanting to put in a kitchen down there and sprucing it up for a tenant.
I don't have the $$ for this. I just want some rooms upstairs and a functional kitchen. Not fancy, functional. The basement is where the ghosts live and I don't think they care about a remodel. In fact, it might rile them all up.