I'm going to try to blog for a month.
I haven't done it yet, and I would like to attempt to really get something going.
Basically cause ya, know, my life isn't boring enough that I have to put ONE person through it. I have to put OTHERS through it. HAH.
Nights at Greenwood, my grandparents country home, after the kitchen had been cleaned up from the day. I remember it smelled like dishsoap and overly toasty coffee. The coffee pot was turned on again to warm up the leftovers. The soft whirring of the dishwasher on the clean cycle. The only lights were the work light over the stove and the little pot lights over the sink making the room seem black and white from the light spilling onto the tiled floor.
I physically had to remove myself from near the kitchen at work to prevent myself from standing in the doorway and breathing deeply. This is a ritual I'm sure I will fall into. Even now, if I do the dishes and clean the kitchen after it is dark out, I turn on the dim light over the sink and nothing else, and it feels like a fully completed task.
No overly toasted coffee though.