Just cold enough outside to feel uncomfortable, though the willow tree has buds all over it.

I’m feeling nostalgic after receiving an email from Nora’s teacher reminding everyone that the end of the school year will come, and soon. So this morning I’m slowing everything down and ignoring the lists of “shoulds” in my head. There’s cello music coming from my headphones as I watch the people buzz about me in the coffee shop – another odd, mismatched soundtrack.