This morning we had our usual breakfast in the sunroom, surrounded by winter sunlight and cold-looking trees. A few sparrows flitted around the feeders as we ate and talked and read emails and the morning news. I enjoyed two pieces of toast from bread containing sunflower seeds and carrots, among other things, and they were especially delicious with lemon curd spread on them.

I worked for three hours again on my writing, preparing a second manuscript for publication, this one a 190 page collection of spiritual writings. It was delightful to sit in my tidy study, listening to quiet baroque music and tapping on the keyboard as I made small changes, page after page, to the manuscript. Cia went for a brisk walk around the neighborhood after doing some sorting and organizing in her office, and then we ran some errands together and walked around Wilcox Park a few times in the frosty cold. Later, she showed me a long and thoughtful email from her good friend Lee, and I thought, and should have told her, how lucky I would have felt to get such a detailed and personal letter from a friend. She's fortunate to have such a good friend.

My dearest one, working on the puzzle . . .

 

and the poem for today . . .