She's asleep. I am staying up to watch a "Babylon 5" DVD. A little time to myself for some escapist indulgence.
It's quiet. I gingerly carry a hot cup of Earl Grey tea, padding across the carpet silently in my warm moccasin slippers. It is quiet time.
* * * * * *
We're in North vancouver, sitting outside a cafe at Lonsdale Quay market. We're eating and sipping coffee. The February air is crisp - touches of winter, with an uncommonly warm sun shining down on my neck as I read the day's news on my PDA. Our mild winter is not quite ready to yield to Spring yet, but it's getting closer.
We look at each other and chuckle as a musician murders a procession of pop tunes in his haltingly twangy, out of tune style. I see a little girl sitting on a white plastic patio chair next to him, and an exhausted-looking dog laying with its head down on the ground. That must be the musician's daughter. Well, everybody's gotta make a living. He's not going to be the next "Canadian Idol", but he does seem to be enjoying himself.
* * * * * *
I think of how lucky I am to have gentle, peaceful moments like this. I'm lucky to have a gentle, peaceful life, and a loving wife with whom I can share them.
I'm just lucky. Things could be so much worse. I'm so damn fortunate.