The last cookie

...and I couldn't eat it, either, because of a 40-day denunciation of chocolate. I didn't grow up giving up anything for Lent, but five or six years ago decided to try this as a disciplinary, or dietary, or what-have-you experiment, and I've returned to this each year since. Son D. was on hand to ask when I was finally going to be done taking its (the cookie's) picture. The mug is from my long-ago housemate Martha, who came to DC the same time I did, early '90s for grad school, and interned at National Public Radio. One of my chief news sources.

Took D's guitar into the shop for a string repair, which required five minutes, and ended up sitting in the car for a couple hours with my laptop. Very pleasant in the sun, no interruptions, and productive! This evening I cracked open a book (haven't in awhile) and started reading Ghostways by Robert MacFarlane, which seems lovely and poetic and magical.