Eight

I just finished five days of black and white photos on Instagram. It was fun--my pictures are usually all about color, even if it's subtle. So it's good to think about light and shadow and composition (sorry, that's all a little pompous when I'm talking about iPhone 5S "photographs."). Anyway, this is the windowseat, and the upstairs hall looks way better in black and white than in real life.

Sunny, cold November Saturday: tea and toast, cat and dog. I'm not letting myself listen to NPR, but instead have soothing Pandora stations going. I'm waiting for Mark to get home with a carload of wood that we're going to fashion into a kitchen ceiling, one way or another.

Self-portrait with two sweaters and coffee.

Can you even believe it's already two-sweater season? I am having a hard time anticipating the Arctic Blast that's forecast for next week, when I'm not at all organized yet as far as long underwear and gloves and so on. I'm not ready.

You know what makes me happy? Knowing that right now Zoë and Isaac are sitting together in a cafe in New York working on their papers and pages of reading. They've spent more time together this fall than they have had the chance to do for years, and that makes me so content, just thinking about it. I miss them less when I know they're together, somehow.


Also making me happy:

: : the Serial podcast, suspenseful as any good crime drama or mystery, and I'm a fan of Sarah Koenig.
: : my fidelity, always always, to the Oxford comma. Isaac lets me proofread his papers sometimes, and I start by making sure the commas are correct (they usually are).
: : anticipating the new Decemberists album.
: : where they at doe?