It’s 7:39pm on Wednesday night, and I find myself paying very close attention to this moment. A typical married-at-home-boring evening. Furface is sitting behind my chair as I write this, panting a little in his wild hope that I’ll either throw the ball or let him outside to play with his Pomeranian puffball girlfriend next door.

Just so there’s no confusion, my husband is lying on the couch watching some Discovery channel show about knives. I’m sure if he was a teenager in school right now that statement alone could get him kicked out of the local school district.

There’s a remodeler somewhere in our complex using a circular saw on some chunk of wood. The off-and-on whine mixes with noisy birds, the chirping puppy next door (her face is about the size of a bird’s, so chirp is more accurate than bark), and some neigbors having a move-in or move-out today.

Contedness hits at the oddest times. I’m happy just to be sitting here, surrounded by my family with the patio door OPEN without freezing and the setting sun shining into the living room. All is well at this moment. I’m enjoying it while it lasts.

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