Seeing: Strange dreams. The furnace, usually sealed away with paneling and screws. The furniture, all out of its places to make room for this look at the house's innards. The kitchen, not quite clean after yesterday's baking. Mess, mess, mess. TV.
Hearing: Screeching, laughing, da-da-daing, rasberry-blowing, and sometimes crying. Right now, just breathing in the carrier on my chest. Sleeping.
Tasting: Peanut Butter toast. Roti with butter and cheese. Brownies and tea.
Smelling: Natural gas as they change the meter outside, burnt yam sugar in the bottom of the oven, chocolatey goodness and mint-lovely tea.
Feeling: A tight ache in my muscles. Heavy eyelids. The weight of carrying Lucy so often. The pressing-in of so many responsibilities and life events. The weight of a spoon and mixing bowl in my hands. The terry inside of oven mits. My heart fluttering a bit in anticipation of Clint's return home after class.