full circle in the hundred acre wood

Marvels on a Tuesday night:

The incomparable smell of clean sheets; hearing a farmer’s rain falling through the open door; a furry brown Maggie dog lying by the bed snuffling, tail thumping in a good dream; Buck engrossed in a new book; the good feel of dinner in my belly, my mouth tasting of sweet potato, pork tenderloin, warm apples; and the sounds through the open door of our far neighbor’s geese honking a good night, good night, good night to all.

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