From my chair I see green eyes staring at me. Willing me to stop typing and pet the silky black fur. She pushes to insert her head between the screen and my gaze. Demanding attention with her loud purr and persistent nudging.
From my chair I feel the intermittent breeze from the ceiling fan as it spins lazily in the dusky light. Celebrating the first warm day of the coming spring,
From my chair I can smell the sharp, rich smell of my favorite maple bacon brussel sprouts roasting in the oven. Crispy, sweet and salty leaves with soft interiors-perfection.
From my chair I hear March Madness beginning. The bouncing, cheering, chanting, commentating on the last of the first four play-in games. Who will it be, Notre Dame or Rutgers?
From my chair I am content and grateful, noticing the ordinary, everyday happenings of home.