A Contented Sigh

Right before winter, we had a deck built onto the back of the house. It’s lovely.



The deck is made with the compressed wood stuff and the pergola is cedar. It’s exactly what I wanted, and I spent most of the winter looking longingly out my window at the snow-covered deck, impatient for spring so I could enjoy it.



Well, spring is finally here. OK, so it’s not as warm as many of us would like, but it’s not freezing. Personally, I like highs in the 60s and lows in the 40s. It just fits my “middlen” personality. Al won’t be happy until it’s near 80. It’s amazing we have lived together this long, what with him complaining about being cold and me complaining about being hot.

But it is spring, so it was time to buy patio furniture for our new deck. I had in mind what I wanted—a comfy, rattan love seat with 2 single chairs and a fire pit in the middle. And that’s what I got! Well, I didn’t get the fire pit (I lost that battle to Al), but we got a coffee table instead, plus an ottoman. It’s as lovely as the deck and looks wonderful.





When I first saw them, I told Al they were too “Floridian.” Then he flipped the cushions over to reveal a beautiful pistachio green and I was sold. Cosette loved them at first sight and quickly initiated them into the household like she did every other piece of furniture in the house.





So, this is my new favorite thing to do. I sit outside on my love seat and read or knit and enjoy a glass of wine. Just today, I sat out there and started a new cabled scarf with the most wonderfully luscious Rowan Felted Tweed yarn.



Right now, I’m typing this post as I sit out here. It’s tricky having the computer outside—the light has to be just right or you can’t see anything on your screen. The sun is just starting to go down. It’s not quite dusk yet, but it’s not daytime either. The wind is blowing, of course, making things just on the chilly side, but I don’t mind it. It calms down in spells, and I can feel the sun on my left cheek and neck, promising it’ll be warmer soon. I look up at one of the trees and see a red cardinal then notice there’s a fly teetering on the edge of my now-empty wine glass. I can hear the kids a couple of houses down playing basketball, and a woman behind us is vacuuming out her car. More signs of the season changing. There’s even a faint smell of someone grilling out. Now if that’s not a sign of spring, I don’t know what is.

I feel sleepy and content, and I don’t think it’s the wine making me feel this way. But with the smell of someone's dinner grilling, I’m also hungry, so I think I’ll wake myself up and reluctantly head inside. Oh well. There’s always tomorrow.