Contentment

January 1, 2012

I stayed in bed, lingering under the soft, cool sheets
     and warm blanket, a million comfy pillows embracing my head.
When the moment felt right, I sat up, slowly.    

The house was quiet, in a good way.    

I felt around for my favorite, cozy slippers, wiggling my feet inside, until they felt right. 

Charlie was looking at me with his bright, hazel eyes; tail, wagging
      with anticipation of his morning visit with the outside world.  

Downstairs, the not-quite-teenage boys were (predictably) plugged in, 

     surrounded by their own pillows and blankets -
their makeshift beds, from the night before.
 
     "Good morning!" I said, as I released Charlie into the backyard. The temperature outside was unseasonably warm and pleasant.        

     "What would you like for breakfast?" I asked.   

      "Pancakes and bacon? ? !"with eager eyes, they expressed.   

I was happy to oblige.

The sun was shining brightly through the window, above the kitchen sink,
     where my Grandma's porcelain bluebird sits.  
I took the bluebird down, and placed it safely on the counter,
      so that I could open the window, just enough.
Just enough to allow the fresh air to breathe into the room,
     adding life to the closed up space.

      Now, for some music, I thought.
And, I searched around for what I thought would satisfy my mood -
     the Brazilian sounds of the guitar, acoustic.   

Breakfast was made, and the table was set,
       and someone very nice made me coffee.
Buttery, sweet pancakes, crispy bacon; warm, smiling faces.  
We shared stories about before; and discussed plans for after. 
Like all of the possibilities for "today", for what a beautiful day it was. 

     Go to the zoo, maybe?

     A walk or bike ride?

     Kickball or ice-skating?

     Or, maybe some soccer.

The day was ours, and what a feeling that was.