My husband and I went out for dinner this week. We wore masks until seated and were delighted to find that our chosen restaurant, Cuba Cuba, had set up tables on its front lawn. We got there early enough to have lots of personal space in the great outdoors.
You’d think I’d go with the restaurant’s signature mojito, being it’s a Cuban drink and we were in a Cuban restaurant. But I can make mojitos at home (mint! I have mint!). Instead, we allowed some geographical mixing-it-up and toasted each other with Brazilian caipirinhas. (Sure, I could make those at home, too, but cachaça is harder to find than rum.)
When I was younger, I looked at older couples and wondered how could anyone be in in love with an old person? I mean, wrinkles and sags and bifocals and gray hairs and less hair where you want it and more where you don’t. All that general decrepitude? Not appealing, my 30-something self declared.
Our backyard haven had been missing or unusable for much of the summer. The back deck, small and decrepit, had been scraped and rebuilt over the course of the previous five weeks.
In addition, Roger had been gone nearly a month for work.
But everything shifted back into place recently as we christened our new-and-improved deck together. I’d been sitting that Saturday afternoon with a good book and my MellowFaves playlist serenading me softly on our outdoor speakers. We’d just had a brief summer rain and the temperature was a comfortable 75°.
Roger finally arrived home and the kids and I greeted him enthusiastically. Roger handed me a a bottle of wine made by some friends from grapes grown in their backyard and I served it up in twin goblets. After crawling all over him for a bit, the kids returned to their play on the lawn, and Roger and I were left to catch up over all the small and large things that had passed since we last had a good chunk of time to spend together. It was divinely relaxing, so sweet to know that all was in place again.
This was our background noise:
Nothing incredible or spectacular — just 16 seconds of normal life made perfect simply by the fact that I noticed it.
Perfect Moment Monday is about noticing a perfect moment rather than creating one. Perfect moments can be momentous or ordinary or somewhere in between.
On the last Monday of each month we engage in mindfulness about something that is right with our world. Everyone is welcome to join. The next Perfect Moment Monday event will begin August 27.
In spite of Mr Roads, my 7th grade art teacher, I was prompted last fall to buy a daily deal for a partner session in an art studio.
Husband and I finally used it just days before it expired. We left the kids with my parents and headed to one of my favorite Colorado towns, Golden.
Date night was held at Art on the Brix where we received, for our entry fee, art supplies and instruction, a cup of wine each and tapas, which is a fanchy-schmancy word for light snacks. We also had the chance to buy one more cup of wine as we painted, as you may notice below.
This was our night in a slideshow.
Now we have two paintings of the same thing. Luckily, each kid wanted one to hang in their rooms.
Who knew I could even remotely do this? I love vanquishing the voice of Mr Roads almost as much as I enjoy sipping house Cabernet with my husband. A really fun evening, complete with a visual memory that makes me smile.