It doesn't get much better

Really -- After about two weeks of having something in the evening, ranging from the fun (BNL in concert) to the ridiculous (a care meeting in which I felt attacked) to the beneficially necessary (a benefit dinner for a local school that really does amazing things, and the dinner allowed me to wear my really, really fabulous animal print heels the flair to a very otherwise understated brown and cream ensemble), I'm home tonight.

The baby is sleeping, the dog is enjoying a rawhide at my feet, the husband is at work, and in front of me is a glass of red wine and some lovely dark chocolate. The wine wasn't expensive at my favorite warehouse store (C*stc*), but it made me think of my friend K, and that was enough to warm my soul. The chocolate is dark and smooth and reminds me of a great weekend away when four good friends sampled chocolates and wine and beer what felt like the whole weekend long.

There was a joyful spirit in worship this morning and I had fun in my sermon and it feels good to know that I'm about to settle in to serving these folks for a good long while. There is promise in the certainty of longevity, and this morning it came in the hug of a delightfully curmudgeon who I sometimes think doesn't see the glass as being wet, let alone half-full. "I'm happy for you," he said. And when I responded that I was, too, he laughed, and his eyes crinkled at the corners in a way I hadn't seen before. It doesn't get much better.