Here, a foggy morning, the ocean’s mist graying the horizon, just a hint of sun brightening the green leaves of the ficus hanging over from the neighbor’s yard.

Here, a snoring dog curled into the corner of his massive bed, purchased after his trainer told us we had to keep him off the couch because he was getting confused about his place in the family and needed a reminder that he is not, in fact, the top dog.

Here, a chai latte made with coconut milk in a favorite mug, that brings back memories of a sweet weekend on the Oregon coast with a small group of beautiful humans.

Here, my ankle elevated on the couch and a mounting frustration that almost five months out from breaking it, I continue to deal with swelling, pain and limited range of motion.

Here, an almost sixteen-year-old still asleep in the next room. The growth that is happening in high school reminds me of the toddler years, when my head spun from the almost daily changes that made me want to both drag my feet to slow time down and clap my hands with the delight of watching her becoming. I’ve been looking through old photos in preparation for her beach birthday party next weekend, and remembering how much I’ve forgotten about those early, bleary, wonderful, deeply exhausting days.

Here, the dawning recognition that at fifty-one – and despite the fact that I still feel mostly thirty-five in a lot of ways – my body has new and different needs – more sleep, less spice, a more boundaried schedule. (I’ve both rebelled against and reveled in schedules my whole life, which has made for a complicated existence.)

Here, a car that needs repair, a floor that needs mopping, a book – or ten – that need reading.

Here, the bittersweetness of watching friends get ready to send their teens to college, some a day’s drive away and some across the country, knowing my time is coming faster than seems possible. We’re planning a California college visit road trip this fall. I’m a bit lost in the whole process as I didn’t go to university in the US until my graduate degree in my thirties. So we are learning, side by side. Thank goodness for friends who are a year or two ahead and can hand down their experiences like they used to hand down their daughters’ clothes.

Here, the end of the year already in sight. Having spent much of the last 11 months relegated to the couch, healing from surgery, then Covid, then my broken leg, I’m both hesitant and eager to look forward to the next four and a half months and see what I can get accomplished.

Here, a deep gratitude for this life, in all it’s bumpy, warty, unpredictable glory.