finches, frothy milk and raiders of the food dish

Up before dawn to finish work on an exam. Yawn. Tired. Revive with streaming sunlight. Loving every bit of sun rays in the morning. I flip through NYT pages on the web and read stories about sunlight, animals and tipping your doorman. I don’t have a doorman, but I now have a concierge. He can do a lot to help us toddle through the day. But realistically, mostly he just sits there.

A long long visit to the dentist. I sign a release: I understand that laughing gas will make me not care about anything. For three hours, I did not care about anything. I tested myself by feeding all sorts of images where normally I may have fretted and felt great anxiety and concern. Now? Didn’t care! Impressive.

After, I made my first trip of the holiday reasons to the mall. I spent all my money in one store and left.

Just outside the Law School, I encountered a whole gaggle of carrot bellied birds nibbling on crimson crabs. Finches, no?





Toward dusk, I made my way to a favorite café by the water’s edge. It’s a little out of the way for most students. Which is not necessarily a bad thing. Their stress becomes your stress if you share space too long.

I drank a cappuccino which had a frothy milk layer the size of a hornet’s nest.

Outside, the snow took on dusky tones of blue; in the distance, our town shone in splendid orange hues.






A squirrel was doing her best to jiggle out some seed from the birdfeeder. You couldn’t help but applaud her audacity, even if, just a while back, you may have been rooting for the finch family.




At home, the still empty Christmas tree drank all the water in the large dish.

Some days are composed of big things, some are not.