Winter is just an ugly dreary mess until February when the snow starts to pile and drift, absorbing all the sounds of the world creating a dense silence normally reserved for the depths of nature. The kind of silence where you see a car before you hear it. The only things you do hear are the beat of your heart, the exhale of your own breath and the crunch of Emma’s boots as she stomps up the drive!?
All in Brighton
This morning was a little awkward. I'll admit it wasn't the first time I woke up next to someone I barely knew, but it was the first time that there wasn't that weird, “so about last night” conversation.
Ethan just rolled over, hugged my blanketed feet and said, “Morning feet. Thanks for not kicking me last night.”
“So...you and Logan...” Ethan said breaking the perfect silence of our dishwashing.
“We grew up together and now we are neighbors.”
“I have one of those. A girl I thought I was in love with in grade school, became my best friend in college and now she is married to my best friend from business school. Everyone else thinks it is abnormal, but it feels perfectly natural.”
Logan stopped by just before sunset to see if I had provisions for the storm.
“I know you are a Yank, but this is your first storm in how many years?”
“At least eight,” I replied.
“That’s what I thought. Figured I should be a good neighbor and make sure you had everything you needed before it gets too nasty out.”
Had a surprise at the door this morning. The bell rang about 10am and I answered it expecting to meet a delivery man with the package of deal docs Jeff had insisted on overnighting for my review, despite my insistence that I had retired/quit/forgotten how to read. But I wasn't greeted by a brown suit, or a bright yellow polo, not even the black and purple; I opened the door to find a 6' southern financial consultant named Ethan Gatte.