Life's been busy lately. We're gearing up for fall at work, I'm committed to my fiber art, the garden is growing at a ghastly (but delicious) rate, and life maintenance needs continue as always. So to admit that I was a touch grumpy towards the end of last week is not terribly surprising.
As I was leaving work on Saturday, I called home to ask about dinner and if I needed to pick anything up. Kevin told me not to worry because he had already had the evening planned.
A recent fallen tree left us with piles of pine firewood to burn. Rather than have one big bonfire, we've decided to burn it slowly in our patio fire pit. Two weekends ago, we had our first fire and burned through a portion.
So Saturday evening, Kevin decided we would have another fire. He picked up a bottle of wine (a yummy Argentinian Malbec) and some finger foods. We cut up chicken and veggies, sliced a loaf of bread, and cracked open the wine.
And we started a fire.
Well into the night we lingered over the wine and good conversation as we watched the dancing flames and listened to the wood crackle.
By the end of the evening, as the fire dimmed and the embers glowed, I was completely relaxed. Kevin knew exactly what I needed.
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