Do you ever have one of those days? The kind where it feels like no matter what you do, something happens and you must do it again? You get one parking ticket, pay it promptly (so as to avoid the additional fine), then walk outside to mail it and there is another parking ticket on your windshield. You send an e-mail and it comes back undeliverable. You make a to-do list, only to lose it. This is how my life has been for the past few days. There is too much to do, none of it is happening in an efficient manner and it is raining so hard that at night I feel like I am sleeping on a boat.
Last night I was particularly disgruntled. And then --
I came home to a perfectly clean house, a cold glass of vouvray, and dinner on the stove. I took a hot shower, wrapped up in my robe, and went to work arranging a bunch of stargazer lilies in a big green vase while M. attended to dinner.
He told me it was going to be good, and he was right: there was pork, cooked slow in chilies and spices. There were red beans in a piquant sauce. There was rice. There was green garlic, picked from the garden just before dusk and pureed with cilantro till it formed a brisk green sauce. It was near perfection.
We ate too much, danced in the kitchen to Ray Charles and ate a couple of chocolates for dessert. And then, somehow, it felt like it had been a very good day.