Unless something blows up in my general vicinity in the next 45 minutes, I have to say that this has been one of the most blissfully slow evenings I have experienced in eons.  Not since I emerged from the tar pits have I had such a wonderful night.

I’m easy to please.

Bike ride.  85 degrees.  Slight breeze.  Sun.  Light traffic.  Easy pace.  Two hours.  Daughter drove by me on her way home, stopped and waved.  Surgically repaired foot did not swell, bark, or do weird things.  Nice fish dinner.  Ice cold water.  Cleared space and swept out my man cave out in the garage.  Hot shower.  Deposited the check I got in the mail today, my NCAA basketball pool winnings.  Shorts and tee shirt on the couch while listening to the Cardinals smoke the Mets.  Dog snuggled next to me with his chin on my chest (definitely my best friend).  Writing a blog.  Made a snide comment on Ned’s blog.  Kids are quiet.  I can feel the pleasant buzz of fatigue settling in as my body gets ready for bed.  Wife is out chatting with a friend.


All I really need to make me happy is a pleasant evening, a bike ride, a decent meal, peace, my dog, a ball game, and a chance to empty the words out of my brain.  Oh, a cold beer might be nice.  Homemade ice cream.  A woman nestled comfortably in my arms (maybe even my wife).  Bills paid.  Chores done.

That’s it.

This can’t be real.