Design For Mankind

It is wildfire season.

We finish The Saturdays.

We sing Happy Birthday to the dog.

Our first big snow arrived over the weekend, all gusts and billows, and our dear town was nearly plummeted in the best of ways.

I stock the pantry with beans, set bowlfuls aside for creative bounty.

Our first night in the cabin, dehydrated and weary, we line up our mattresses on the unfinished floor.

We finish The Hobbit.

I order tomato seeds from Italy.

A poem for the woman in the co-op fumbling for an avocado, and for the right words.

In our home, December offers a great pause.