tales from the couch

It's a Thursday night in October. The leftover meatloaf is tucked in the fridge. Charlie is at his desk doing his homework, and Mike is in our office learning more about video editing. I am sitting on our couch, basking in the soft glow of candlelight, beautiful classical music playing quietly in the background, and Claude purring contentedly beside me while I enjoy a glass of Old Vine Red. (Such a contrast from last Thursday, when most of our lower level was tarped and prepped for painting, and we ate take-out pizza on our bed upstairs and watched the news on our tiny old tv.)

I have just gleaned all that I can from "Twin Cities Business" magazine, and checked out the holiday Crate and Barrel catalog. The mailbox is getting a little fuller every day, today I even got a catalog encouraging me to buy a goat, or a water buffalo, or perhaps a cow for a family in a developing country for the holidays. An interesting idea, but how did I get on that list?

Part of me loves the early darkness of autumn, no more lazy nights lingering in the backyard over a meal from the grill, or an hour spent watering flowers. October is the time to tuck in, pursue hobbies, spend more time petting the cat. While I initially bemoan the fact that the lazy days of summer are gone, part of me secretly loves cocooning in our little house and spending the evenings quietly behind newly washed storm windows. A fresh stack of books awaits on the nightstand, and the flannel sheets are tucked in to our beds.

For tonight, we are safe and content. And life doesn't get much better than that.