Write four lines of prose about: the lost connection.
Work was busy but at a more manageable pace this morning. Greatly helped to have someone come in to pitch in for a couple of hours - that really made all the difference in being able to stay on top of things. By the time I left we'd sold out of three varieties of bread, leaving a couple loaves of one type and quite a few loaves of another behind. There was only one butter tart remaining, we'd sold out of chocolate croissants, and we were down to two cinnamon buns.
It's so much harder when it's just me up front and the two bakers in the back. They're usually available to help when I really need it, but I hate bothering them and I usually end up with a huge pile of dishes to deal with once things finally slow down late morning. Hopefully they'll have someone in place to come in each day to help out before the summer rush hits in full force.
Planning on getting out tomorrow morning to get some work done in our strawberry patch. I've been neglecting it for a while now, but Kat's brother and sister-in-law have been out there recently and I'm ready to chip in at last.
I saw you yesterday. You were walking past my favorite coffee shop while I was inside with an empty mug, a half-read newspaper, and nobody else. I almost didn't recognize you, you looked so happy and carefree.
The years have been kind to you; if they'd been kinder to me I might have said hello.