I wake in the morning thinking about things I want to accomplish in the coming day, hoping the list is on the shorter side. By design, it usually is.
This morning: a couple of emails to tend to, share the draft newsletter for InScribe Christian Writers’ Fellowship with the executive, put a pot of chicken stock on to simmer, and water my garden. This afternoon, an appointment with my doctor. Manageable, to be sure, and with ample time left to get lost in the book I’m reading and very much enjoying (The Kitchen Front by Jennifer Ryan).
After tending to things in my office, I get busy in the kitchen chopping vegetables, putting what’s left of a chicken carcass in a pot to simmer, and chopping leftover chicken and cooked carrot to put in containers for Molly’s dinner toppers, all while listening to a classical piano playlist on Amazon music. Pure peace.
At one point, I return to the woman cave and am stopped short by the sight of some serious-looking clouds coming our way from the west. I step out on the front step to capture a quick image with my phone, then return to the kitchen thinking that I can cross “water the garden” off my to-do list for the day.
Molly barks when a delivery person knocks on the door to hand me my package rather than leave it outside in the now-heavy rain that’s falling.
Gerry calls from the grocery store to confirm the handful of items I asked him to pick up on the way home.
Meanwhile, the kitchen grows darker, the clouds pass over, and rain starts falling.
There’s only one word for it. Cosy. The music, simmering stock, pup around my feet waiting for a bit of chicken or carrot, and a peaceful, easy feeling in my soul.
Cosy is not a word I’d typically use to describe a day in early June. Hot. Sunny. Those are more June-like words, yet here we are. It doesn’t feel like I think June 4 should but, at the same time, it feels exactly right.
Leave a Reply