entelein | drowse

Upon getting home, I did a short short workout, then in the cool-down had an amazing bowl of the 15 bean soup that's been potting in the crock over a whole day. I had a chilled mango for dessert, and then took one of the most blissful three minute showers ever. A short nap later, and I was up, dressed, and out the door to Ann and Tim's, where we sat in the backyard amongst the citronella tiki torches, and we drank Orangina and Stoli Vanil. Wendy and her new beau were there, so we gabbed and talked and made each other laugh, and I felt alright with the world, for a little while.

Ann made guacamole and caprese salad, with tomatoes fresh from her mini city garden. Also a garlicky white bean dip that was scooped up happily by all of us with little toasted pieces of bread.

At one point I drowsed smoothly in my garden lounger, drifting close enough to sleep that I felt a little more refreshed, but still able to understand Wendy's stories about touring for her book.

It was a nice, nice evening. Sweet and warm and unhurried. Henry is getting to be a big cat, and I held him for a while in their kitchen, his paws splayed out as he relaxed in my arms. He's an orange cat with a sweet, open face. Very cute. We helped to bring things in, and went out the apartment through the front door around 2 AM. I managed to catch James' voicemail and return his call right before he went to bed, so that I had someone to keep me company as I tried to find parking and walked to my door. Thanks, James.

It's time for bed. The word for this moment is sanguine. Or, perhaps, serene.