still life with poppies

I sat outside Saturday afternoon, at the tea shop I used to walk to when I lived in Gone West. The sun was out, the restaurant across the street had live music in their courtyard, and a horde of naked bicyclists rode by. I felt the way I do in the afternoon on a sunny day in Gone West, as if the world is so perfect that it is impossible to be unhappy.

I even walked past my favorite poppies, and they were there, just like last year.

It stayed warm into the evening. S. and F. and N. and I went to a soccer game, frankly the only sport in which I actually understand all that is going on, and I had not yet put on my coat by the end of it.

I really need to live only in cities big enough to have major league sports teams.

In the end, there were creative drinks and gooey mac and cheese, late into the night, and a drive back to a familiar bed in a cozy house, the house where I feel so relaxed that I cannot quite remember that I have to get up early and work at the end of the weekend.