There is nothing quite so pleasing as a hot shower on a cold night. Particularly when one's bathroom is a former pantry come steam box. Warm and absorbed and particularly thrilled to be starting anew from quasi-curly hat-head. Skin is tight and soft and if it's one of those realllly decadent evenings, smells like brown sugar and lemons from my favorite scrub. And thus my little black robe also smells like lemon sugar.
The little tree 's reflection in my front window gives off just enough light to diffuse the room without disturbing the night shadows of evergreen branches heavy with snow in the garden.
My house is quiet. No music, no TV, no movie and, until now, no typing. Just a little wind outside and a happy hum coming from the tucked up fur on the other side of my laptop. I've had a a couple days of excellent company but I'm alone now and life is good.
Great weekend- a city weekend's weekend. Notes on candy-making, cookie exchanges, German opera, new friends (young and not), Avec, the reappearance of "Mango," Brunch adventures and the Golden Compass tomorrow.
Back to my quiet with peppermint tea and book... I do love a good Sunday.
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1 comment:
Such an ideal Sunday evening. I love quiet evenings alone, at home.
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