It's early yet. The babes are still sleeping. Andrew just ran to catch his morning train. I look outside my front window--the sky is a deep, soft, blue. The trees are silhouetted, looking like sea creatures reaching through the dark. My hand wraps around my mug of tea. English Breakfast, a hearty spoonful of honey, and some milk. Milky teas, my favorite. I'm working on my weekly menu, trying to come up with ideas on how to use the shrimp in my freezer. Tonight is pasta carbonara--my first attempt. Last week a friend dropped off a candle that had melted, precariously, in her attic--the wick disappeared. I melted it down and created three new candles in tea cups. The whole process made the apartment smell like Christmas. I also finished up a winters hat for myself. I was getting tired of trying to locate one of Andrew's black, all-purpose, hats for our morning walks. The babes are making messes, playing dress-up, watching copious amounts of Curious George, and keeping me ever on my toes.