This morning woke up nestled in a mound of cotton and down. First break in the heat feels like fall. ( Though next week it will be 90 degrees again, so let us not kid ourselves. ) Now it is just past noon and I have only just polished off my first cup of coffee.
Public radio is playing a particularly mellow lineup of songs in keeping with the grey and damp weather and I have been puttering about the kitchen feeling sentimental about such mundane, functional things as teapots and wall clocks and mauve (not pink) coffee mugs.
Should get into the shower and put on some proper clothes instead of just a robe, but right now am quite enjoying the occasional faint reminder of last nights lovely romp with the lights on and the illusion of having zero that needs attending to except the most domestic of things. ( Brewing tea and washing sheets and scratching the ears of insistent, well-fed felines. )
If time could be made to stand still please have it be made to on a day exactly like today replete with a heightened sense of the beauty of everyday things and a pure feeling of contentedness and ease and being right where one belongs.
1 comment:
lovely.
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