I don't have as much time to write this morning. I met my Hindu writer book lover friend for dinner at Panera, stopped in at Trader Joe's on the way home, and drove home, keeping a wary eye on the sky.
The clouds were purple and black and glowing--once I would have said, "It's a Steven Spielberg sky." Now I'm not sure that people would know what I meant. It was the kind of sky where I expected the clouds to part in a swirling hole that would reveal an alternate world.
Instead, it just opened up to rain. We have the remnants of a tropical system over us, which is better than having a developed tropical system over us.
I stayed up late to make sure that my spouse got home from his class in Miami--and then we stayed up, in part because he's always too wound up after teaching to go to bed, and in part, because we wanted to catch up.
My spouse and I will do tag team chicken and dumpling making this morning. I have a chicken in the pot, and the house smells wonderful.
It's not as stormy as I thought it would be this morning. But even if the skies clear completely, it will be good to know that a pot of chicken and dumplings awaits at the end of the day.
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