Goodnight

Night crept in earlier today just by a hair, but those seemingly insignificant minutes that slip into the darkness each passing day add up. I love the invitation of the warm black evening, interrupted only by a lone porch light casting funny shadows.

The doors are all open, the laundry's on the line, the chickens are in, and the garden's damp.

Chris is in Yellowstone fishing, and I'm alone in my secret quite time, inspecting the case of bobbins I scored at the Salvation Army today for $1.00 and sipping tea, the sewing machine's little bulb glowing just over there. Heartless Bastards, Ray LaMontagne, and now, Joni Mitchell, courtesy of KCRW's 24-hour music stream,  are keeping me company as I move so slowly through this perfect night, willing it to last forever.