It’s been a while
     since the last rambling.

Not because there wasn’t anything to say.

The week simply kept moving
   faster than I could stop
         and turn any of it
                 into lines.

Tuesday carried Mari and me
   from Cardinals at Braves
          to Mexico at Live!

   without ever really becoming two separate nights.

St. Louis took the first one.
Mexico took the second.

By the time Nero and I dropped her home,
   it was late enough
      that simple had become beautiful:

      a good game,
      another good game,
      a bite of Taco Mac,
      one clean ride home,

      with no need to ask the night for anything else.

Wednesday found us at Irby’s
          for the USA game,
          then back at 325…

          for just enough couch
          to make an ordinary evening

          feel like ours.

Not too much.

Not too late.

Just right,
     which may be harder to nail
           than any penalty kick
                I’ve seen this World Cup.

Thursday brought Ava to Atlanta,
         one more Cardinals win for Mari,
         St. Louis taking that series

         before the week changed crews.

Friday,
       Mari delivered Coal
       into a weekend of deliberate spoiling

       and Orca’s _extremely_ aggressive

       interpretation of hospitality.

Then the days folded together.

Ava learning to code
    while I remembered
    how strange teaching feels…

    when it’s about things
    my hands stopped having to explain years ago.

Nintendo and cooking.

Mets at Braves,
     an Atlanta win on The 4th,
     with fireworks loud enough

     to put a proper ending on Saturday.

And always,
    somewhere under our feet,
    four-legged negotiations
                over couches,
                   attention,
             and who exactly
           was spoiling whom.

Now Sunday is already here.

The dogs and I are taking F1 to Yeppa,
     keeping Coal surrounded by noise,
       motion,
         Orca,

         and every available reason
         not to notice that Mari isn’t here.

Ava leaves this evening—
    the weekend will get quieter,
    Coal may finally have enough room

    to start missing Mari.

I know I will.

Monday waits on the other side of that—
          USA against Belgium at eight,
                             and maybe,
    if the universe doesn’t get clever,
   another one of our glorious Mondays.

No guarantees.

For now,
    there are engines at Yeppa,
    Ava for a few more hours,
    two dogs being kept
    impressively busy,

    and me,
           learning that filling every minute
           is a pretty effective way

           to make the missing

                       hard to miss.