not much

Today I practiced choir songs, especially my favorite ones, doing the tricky sections over and over again. I wrote a letter to my cousin S and another to my poet-zinester friend in Australia. I stared out the bedroom window at the red leaves on the sycamore tree and watched the changing sky and changing light as the clouds did their thing. I chatted on the phone, washed the dishes, ate pitas and hummus, and calmly welcome what life hands to me.