It's after 10, but I am the only one awake in my house. (My house, oh my heart.) I don't know how that's possible because I was up the latest, until almost four the way I don't actually do anymore, but here I am, trying to quietly cut up an onion for a frittata, aware of my friends asleep on various surfaces all around me. It's a good feeling. Cozy, isn't it? The dogs cried and cried for breakfast, but on getting it, they went back to bed. I may pour myself coffee, go read on the porch while this mess is baking. I feel so full of something big and light.