Butter and Solitude and Cats

Monday, August 8, 2016


Because sometimes you make the pasta and eat the pint of ice cream and watch the rom-com and play the song by Jacqueline Fran├žoise that always makes you think of Paris at Christmastime*, and miss the boy.

Because even three hours is too far away. 

So pet the cat. Spoon the ice cream. Boil the water. Squeeze the lemon juice. Sprinkle salt + pepper. Slice the butter. Put on the slippers. Pull the blanket tighter. Curl up with music and words for comfort. 

This is life. Good and hard. Full of joy, deep and full, and solitude of long nights with looming questions. 

*Noel Blanc

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