Tranquility

It’s a quiet Saturday morning. Meredith is away for the weekend and Mark is at work, so it’s just me and our menagerie of animals. I’ve been sitting here at the kitchen table with my coffee, looking around and noticing everyday things I’m usually too busy to see. Little things; the kinds of things that can swell in your heart and define the quality of your life. Sweet.

To my left is our giant fido, Jeffrie, chewing on his squeaky toy – this dog’s rhythm could rival the best musician’s. Squeek, sq, squeek, squeek…one,two,three…squeek, sq, squeek, squeek...one,two,three… squeek, sq, squeek, squeek…and so it goes. My foot is tapping along in spite of myself. We make eye contact. His tail wags. I grin. And the concert resumes.

In the family room to my right, two cats are snuggled in front of the fire bathing each other, the two most unlikely of our cats acting like friends. Sudden change as -Ouch! - Sophie resents Henry’s unexpected bite. Tender moment over, they’re off and running with a few other cats joining in; four cats racing, only two of them knowing why.

Through the window in front of me, I can appreciate the cold of the day without being in it. The wind rearranging leaves in the gray of the morning accentuates the falling temperatures.

Suddenly, I see something that breaks my serenity. Oh man. There it is. In the corner by the porch is a large wad of shredded paper. All hope that Jeffrie has been falsely accused of stealing our neighbor’s papers dies.

So ends the quiet. So ends the peaceful. JEFFRIE!!!