… a July early morning wander through the front yard to see what amazing things happened overnight.
… a perfectly seasoned iron skillet, farm fresh eggs, and a willing chef who knows how to use them.
… watching the other guy work.
And yes, those are tiki lights he’s cleaning up. Are they so retro they’d be fun and funky strung up on the porch? Or would they be just one more opportunity to amuse the neighbors as they drive by, like the time they saw us vacuuming the lawn?
We’re in negotiations about those tiki lights.
… being overly blessed by an abundance (four) of kamikaze robins who all decided to raise their babies in the eaves of our porches this year.
In hindsight, we probably should have anticipated the maternal scolding, dive-bombing of Winnie’s head, and poop. However, by the time we had fully wound in the reality of the situation, there were already about 20 hungry chirpers in residence. We just couldn’t bring ourselves to give them the boot.
Instead, we rearranged the deck furniture out of the flight paths, and Winnie learned to duck, which, when you think about it, is an odd thing to learn from a robin.
… when the last baby bird is coaxed off the rafter, and you can once again enjoy an evening glass of wine wherever you want on the porch without substantial risk of poopage.
… meaningful work with a very short commute.
… sharing a bona fide Canadian butter tart with new friends.
Thanks for the photo, Peter Ernst.
… a happy, healthy canine companion…
… who’s remarkably flexible and is apparently not afflicted whatsoever by claustrophobia.
… a beautifully wrapped, spontaneous gift of her art from a talented and dear lady, just because.
Thanks, Liv. It’s going to be a cherished addition to my “every January” reading list.
… walking through our meadow after dinner…
… and marveling at evidence after evidence that none of this is an accident.
… watching a thunderstorm build.
… the first local tomatoes showing up at your front door, hand-delivered by a neighbor, lightly drizzled with olive oil, and graced with a little creamy blue cheese, salt, and pepper.
… a quiet dinner, listening to the gentle rain on the porch roof, at the end of a busy day with your best friend.