Bare branches and now tiny green buds. We are all confused.
John Sr is better, out of ICU, allowed to eat soft foods, wolfed down
a bowl of apple sauce this morning. He is sleeping as I type (having
swapped day for night). Now at least he is in a room with a view and
the cherry trees on the plaza level are blossoming as people come and
go in lab coats, scrubs, carrying coffee cups, briefcases, some
wheeling trollies. Carol Burnett is on repeat, resplendant in canary
yellow.
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