The kitchen is still fragrant with a lunch we ate together out of our white bowls at the round table: a pumpkin soup, made from a recipe copied from the cookbook of a friend years ago--cinnamon, tumeric, hot buttery onions, ginger, and honey.
The dogs are curled up on the blankets on the floor in the boys' bedroom where the sun shines brightest and the chill is quickest lost. They have bellies full from licking out the pots, and are so relaxed in their rests that they are snoring loud enough for me to hear from here.
The speakers, hooked up to this computer in the living room, are playing a song I first heard as a teenager, when I was waking up to the world and needed to tie my heartstrings to guides that I could hum to.
And in the other bedroom, on "the big bed," my two boys, happy in hand-me-down clothes and each other's company, are busy at work at play, integrating a new set of knight toys into the other knight toys, sharing swords, guessing catapult trajectories, trading helmets and cheering together at the vanquished enemy pirates.
If there is more than this, I don't need it.
But still, since today is Fox's 3rd birthday, there will be cake on top of it all. May it never end...
Woody is giggling here because "It's funny, how his little hands go when the blender vibrates and he can't hold it."