I got up late this morning, not for any particular reason, just because my bed was so nice and comfy that I stayed in it for a bit longer, which stretched to a bit longer, and so on, until it was 9am.
And I sat down at my computer with breakfast and tea and a side-street of a new story that I'm working on, and I've written since then.
I am in no true rush today. This is a rarity around here lately, but something I'd like to be routine soon enough. To have the luxury to sit down at my desk and write for hours without worrying about time slipping away is something I treasure, and also something I crave.
I don't have to leave my house today. Don't have to leave my yard, truly, because today is 'putting the garden to sleep' day, which will probably stretch into next weekend as well, as there's a lot to do. I'm going to dig up my sweet potatoes and pick the remaining peppers and harvest the volunteer squash from the backyard.
I'm going to bake bread today, and do my laundry, but those are normal chores, done every weekend.
Next Friday is my birthday, and next weekend is the last Burlington of the year.
It's been a long year.
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