Dear Celeste

How are you now where you are?

How are the kids and Dennis. I can just see him beaming at you over your morning coffee. There is nobody for beaming like Dennis. You will tell me this, and I will laugh and laugh. I really miss that.

How is that little grove of trees in your backyard? Have you made a compost heap? I am told that is the thing to do when you are living in a house in Virginia. You get your cooking scraps, apple peels and egg shells and make your own mulch in your backyard so your grass grows green. I am sure you already know this.

Noel of FX told me he misses you, and I almost burst into tears right there. Choir is okay though. We're supposed to sing this Saturday, I think, but the mail hasn't come in on the lineup. I got a new chip for the Magic Mike. It's a bit of a cheat because there aren't that many songs on it. But the songs that are there are nice. Haven't been seeing much of anybody, because there hasn't been an occasion. Then again, I haven't really felt like seeing anyone. And also, I was sick.

Saturdays seem strangely empty. We are thinking about badminton, but just can't get up the gumption. What I'd like is to just sit and have coffee with you. You and your coffee and your ice cubes and your rich dessert that you will only eat half of. I would like to walk the stores, looking for pretty things that I will urge you to buy while we talk of nothing special until you have to rush off to mass, and for more than a fleeting moment, I will want to go with you.

I have not yet downloaded SKYPE. I have not called you, but it's not because I don't want to talk to you. It's mostly because I have so much to share, but there are no words. And what would be the use of that, tell me?