the scene:

jeremy in his man-chair, feet socked & propped, computer in lap.

me on the sofa (piled high with folded laundry stacks), feet upon the coffee table, computer in lap.

both of us have broken space-bars thanks to ten bitty fingers lured toward anything with buttons. mm, lured toward anything.

clothes dryer buzzes in the kitchen, two glasses of slowly-melting ice, a perfect seventy-four degrees in the living room without a/c...

eli sleeps upstairs. he did not nap today because we were out. somehow we spent the entire morning planning for the month ahead, then ventured out (all three) to stock up on bulk sizes of pesto sauce, chicken, olive oil, and magnolia-scented laundry soap. eli, seated happily in the cart, ate his way from aisle to aisle, munching on teriyaki meatball samples and tiny wedges of pb&j "uncrustables", all while gripping a fluffy tiger halloween costume he'd grabbed from a table.

next, to the regular grocery for produce, milk and bread. same list as usual except this time a handful of speckled red plums and a tough-skinned butternut squash made it into the cart. i am eager for a fall menu.

tonight we went down the street for a birthday party hosted by our friends who own the coffee shop. they live in a great grey bungalow with a sprawling front porch strung with lights and cozied up by benches and chairs draped with old quilts. around an open pit fire, we roasted hot dogs on long branches that had been carved into pointed skewers. i was so wishing i had needed long-sleeves. we left just as the marshmallows were being passed around. eli was entering that overly-tired point of delirium where he starts running energetically from place to place. 

it is good to be with friends in this little town, to be reminded that we have them here.

rarely are we lonely, but we can tend toward being homebodies if we're not careful. especially now that we have a comfy man-chair, cool-weather days approaching, and a stockpile of gourmet pesto.