The routine, and thoughts on November 14th.
  1. I make coffee.
    Just for me, Jeff doesn't like it.
  2. I make toast.
    For both of us: Peanut butter for him, raspberry jam with marble jack cheese for me.
  3. The week settles down around us.
    It always feels like we're tying it closed. Whatever happened at work, whatever failures or triumphs we had, they all take their place and on Saturday morning we take a deep breath and let them slide away, so it's just us in the living room, starting again. The cat chooses his favorite cushion and curls into a ball.
  4. This morning we talk about Paris, and read bits to each other from different news sources.
    It hurts and is sad. Why Paris? We ask each other. And what will the reaction be? Jeff reads that it may embolden "xenophobes" and this feels like an extra insult, that violence isn't bad enough, now France will face an onslaught of hate, too.
  5. I read this, by Nadar Atassi.
    It's going around Twitter and yes, yes, we can see this.
  6. Jeff reads from the NYT opinion page.
    And from the reactions around the world. "ah, the Pope is against it," he notes. The Pope says this action is not human, and it's not. But in a way it truly is. Human, unfortunately, is not short hand for decent or kind or generous, though we all wish it was.
  7. Later tonight we will see family for dinner and I will hug them extra hard.
    Because we all go out to restaurants and games and concerts and this is life, and it's absurd and unacceptable that these can be dangerous acts.
  8. And I'll remember that ISIS does not speak for Muslims or refugees or any real state.
    Which is literally the least I can do.
  9. Outside it's cool, but the sun is starting to peek through the clouds, and the frost on the windows is starting to melt.
    Take from this easy metaphor what you will.
  10. I get up to refill my coffee.
    It just seems like a Parisian thing to do, this particular Saturday morning.