The sun is now above the mountainous horizon for 13 hours of the day. My Dad is visiting from home, and I’m only working two days this week.
I served an Easter dinner of ham, pineapples, scalloped potatoes, peas, garlic bread and two pies (bumbleberry and banana cream). It felt so good to make dinner that was actually prepared without major flaws. It was nice not to have to offer cautionary discretion,”sorry the potatoes are so rock-solid. I don’t know what happened!” The two cops and my Dad thanked me for a wonderful dinner and that felt so warm, making them happy with food, sitting around a table enjoying the epicurean delights spread around the corners. Tea to hit the spot and easy cleanup via the dishwasher made for an enjoyable Easter dinner.
Then again, last night, I had another gloriously happy moment. We sat across the living room couches: husband, Dad, kitten, puppy, me. Blankets across laps, plates of Chinese food balanced on knees. The sun setting on the other side of the French doors, pinks and oranges painted in wisps atop the dark mountains. And I thought to myself, “This is pretty wonderful.” It was a very happy moment.
It could be the visit from home, the extended sunlight, the wonderfully abundant food or the awesome hug from husband telling me he missed me on his day shift, but I just feel so full, like the cup that runneth over. I filleth and spilleth with happiness.