I'm all dreamy today. I'm keeping my coffee warmed up. I'm kepiing my hair out of my face and the light from my western window has added a dazzling glow to the little St. Francis statue you bought for me at that little monastery in Spain six years ago, after you left me here to miss you over and over. I'm thinking of how you get choked up at those dreary sad country songs that come on your car radio. I'm noticing that it will be warm soon and I'm wishing for some rocking chairs for my my porch. There will be trips and swimming late at night and sweaty rock shows and a new moon once a month. You'll go out west and I'll spread out through my neighborhood like a cat on an afternoon sunbeam. Occasioanally I'll read something and wish hard I could read it aloud to you.