The sun is shining today. I don’t know what the weather is like where all of you live, but here it is warm and bright.
I am going to write today about contentment.
Right now I am sitting on a lovely smallish couch that I admired for years at a friend’s house and when they remodeled, they gave it to me. There is a table that my husband made from an old treddle sewing machine right in front of me on which is a perfectly sized notebook computer. I am sipping on a cool cup of Chai tea, sweetened with vanilla bean ice cream (you have to try this, it is wonderful). My couch is angled towards a window where a large rose bush will produce lovely pink roses all summer. I am listening to Pie Jesu by Lloyd Webber on my IPod and feeling utterly content. That is why I am ashamed to admit that just last night I was pointing out to my husband the little Victorian cottage that I want him to build for me next year for my writing space. In my defense it is no bigger than a large shed, but still. When is enough, enough?