The rhythm of our days

As Joe and I slip into melancholy, readying for our return to the city, I find myself not mourning the outings, canoeing, mountains climbed etc. but the daily rituals that symbolize the lifestyle up here: Waking up to Clarke strumming his guitar (going to bed to Clarke strumming his guitar, making breakfast, lunch, dinner to Clarke strumming his guitar...), Joe and I's nightly ritual of watching The Wire DVD's (thank you Charlie!), our early evening fires, the cats romping around outside with Clarke, my morning berry picking, Oscar's crab apple baseball, the wiffle ball, the Euchre games, the constant flow of Stewart's root beer (how will I go back to the no soda rule?), the lack of TV (how do I go back to a home with a TV?), the mailbox conversations with our great neighbors. I miss a lot about the city, but I don't miss the chaos and hyper-activity. This place is about living in the moment and lots of welcome interruptions.