11am. The best night’s sleep I’ve had all week. The dog is beside herself about the possibility of the day. I’m at home. Austin’s at home. The porch is sunny and warm already. Perfect for lying down and sniffing in the wind. One bowl full of food and another full of fresh water. I fix turkey pitas with Trader Joe's Hot and Sweet Mustard (yum) and let Austin move my office radio to the screened-in porch. I can see him reading the directions (good boy). He bought a grill yesterday and is almost as happy as the dog. To be fair, Sabrina also got brushed today, so the bar is pretty darn high, but with no school and all A's and B's and a good clothes shopping trip, he's up there. I can hear him singing along to music from the 70’s. That always cracks me up. Cycles. I start my third book of the weekend. There must be ten neighborhood kids across the street at the house with the only pool for miles around. They’re riding big wheels and directing each other in their outside voices. A baby squirrel gets closer to us each time we go outside to turn the potatoes. It makes his mother mad and she squeaks at him. He runs back to her. I've never seen so many green leaves. I will miss summers in this house. Steak. Talk. A window. Information. Respect. Love. He let me put gel in his hair. He checks it and redoes it, but he let me. June is traveling month for Austin as well as most of his friends. Possible g-bye grill party tomorrow. I will need to leave the house. List of possible activities to keep me busy. A check in the mail. Vacuum and Windex and Clorox Swipes. Febreeze. Austin goes out till curfew. Check Web and e-mail. Neighborhood settles in. Dusk. Candles. Two old movies on the DVR to choose from. Sabrina snores and dream-twitches beside me. Heat lightning. Blessed. A little prayer for the world.