A glass of wine and a book, the practically perfect end to a practically perfect weekend. It all began with picking up my husband from the airport Friday morning and continued with a thunderstorm rolling through late Friday afternoon. My son and I sat in front of the open window and listened to the thunder, felt the wind blowing through the screens, and watched the dark clouds slowly cover the sky. Saturday I had a couple of hours to myself, to actually think several consecutive thoughts without interruption, something I hadn’t been able to do for … who knows how long. We had company Saturday night, a dinner out with my husband, son, and a friend; a bonfire under an almost full moon. Sunday was a beautiful, sunny, seventy degree day. I was able to go for a long run, where I once again had the opportunity to think, and then process those thoughts. I returned to my family energized and slightly more tan. We worked in the garden together and stayed outside until evening. Before I got around to cooking dinner, I finished a very entertaining book and a glass of sweet red wine. Like I said, practically perfect.
Well, what would have made it a perfect weekend, you might ask. I don’t know exactly. I like to leave room for improvement. Say, perhaps, finishing the book and glass of wine on a balcony in Venice, or a long run on a trail in Colorado, you know, something like that. But I think I can take practically perfect most of the time.