Contentment
Contentment right here on Stauffer Avenue. For me, I believe it is in my genes. Both of my parents could well entertain themselves in their rural home. There was no end to what dad could come up with in his shop whether metal or wood. Mom liked her threads and fuzz. Me too mom.
Were it not for the fact that Dennis’ two friends no longer drive, McDonald’s would not have that great of appeal. I do think it does Dennis good to meet and greet other fellows.
Today the bright sun is flooding through our south windows. The south basement windows give an extra lift to the fluorescent overhead light in the studio. It may be the sunshine or some powerfully rich coffee that Dennis brewed . . . my stitching has gone very well. I am going to shut down the studio shortly. Pulling the plug while my joints still feel good is better than the alternative. There is nothing worse than not being able to find comfort . . . been there, done that.
Chicken tenderloins are thawing for supper. A saucepan with peeled Russet Reds are ready for boiling. Dennis gets to decide the vegetable.
I am heading for my bedroom porch to sit in the sunshine and do some reading. Ultimate contentment.