Wheat Ridge, Colorado — December 1, 2024

A week into December and I'm still thinking about the first of the month in Wheat Ridge. The morning started in the kitchen, where Rob held a sheet pan with two spatchcocked chickens, the small ceremony of two birds going out to the pellet smoker on the back deck. I watched the skin brown and the juices pool on the drip tray while a thin ribbon of smoke climbed off the tube. After the plates were cleared I helped trim the tree, holding some small stuffed thing while my neice sorted ornaments on the rug. A quiet day, mostly. The kind that only shows what it was later, after it has had time to settle.