Working seven p.m. until seven a.m. When the kids were little I used to pick up donuts Sunday morning on the way home from work. I worked every weekend to be home during school days more but really, Morgan and Gus were on their own too much of the time. Now, with the psych unit closing in eleven months, nurses' work schedules are heaved and tossed around. This month I am working nights. I am half here: a ghost. My life is focused on awake or asleep. It simplifies everything. I sit down in one place. I pace myself. Tony and I celebrate Valentines on the next free day. But, first I get up at two in the afternoon with sun pouring in the bedroom and classical music playing in the kitchen. There is no wind. Tony helps me brush the horses and I ride both. It is Kansas best time of day, tea time, but Beau does not like his schedule thrown off. I am exhausted. Tony cooks steaks outside and I bake a chocolate weight watchers desert and make a big salad. We listen to the violin on the tiny player and eat with the single candle that drips down the wine bottle and Tony coddles the wax. I say I love you Tony and he makes a joke. No, no, it is time to be genuine. Tony smiles and looks down. I say, you know I can't do this without you don't you? He says he knows. I say you will get more handicapped as time goes by but we will just have to make adjustments. Tony says he thinks that will be the key, being able to make adjustments. The steak tastes really good. Tuesday the forecast calls for snow.