Last night was the third night reading by the glow of the small battery lights W had foresight to purchase months ago. A lesser storm than the one which caused this dim routine, had just blown thru bringing more blessed rain.
Earlier we stood at a window listening to the constant croaking of frogs layered with two late cardinals’ unusual duet, then the newly arrived gophers. What cute chatter! Seemed they knew what was coming our way.
I am reminded, although this book is set in Paris and has transported me there, of one of the things I love the most about the bistro. It could be the magical way that it has of holding in coolness. With wood floors in the back half, carpet and tile and marble in the front, you would not expect on so many days, to enter and utter an immediate, “Ahhhh,” as if you were in a vacation villa, but that is what we both do, so often.
That night, instead, I was reminded of how much I love this home when it rains. It has a very, very wide overhang and unless the wind is fierce, the windows can remain wide open. A true gift! Who would have thought a 1965 suburban brick house could transport us like it does.
“Ahhhh...”
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