It is so good to be here. Tonight is a lazy night, a cap on a day for laziness. I'm slapping at mosquitoes while sitting outside. It's Monday, which with my schedule is more like a Saturday. It's a day to catch up with Amy, plan to run errands and then forget to run those errands, dip into the river across the road, leaving my flip flops on shore and deciding it's time for my foot soles to toughen up.
Tomorrow I'm making jam to fill out an order headed off to Seattle. The ship of restarting my business here in Vermont is nearly fulled turned and ready to steam ahead on course. I can feel it, that things are about to be busy and full.
Here is home. Each morning, Amy and I tumble downstairs to this, plug in the kettle and get out the coffee beans, digital scale and hand-grinder (little pieces of Seattle coffee culture packed in our luggage and unpacked immediately upon arrival).
A weekly rhythm is developing but there is spontaneity too. A morning of strawberry picking where that feeling of plunder, gratitude and over-exuberance take over and you start filling planters with the strawberries you can't stop picking. More, more more!