(Just a little reminder that summer DOES exist . . . somewhere, right now . . . like South America.)
I had a little piece of joy tonight. I was doing a grocery run by myself in our cute little car. I love driving the car because #1. it has seat warmers and #2. it has a CD player and "my car," aka VAN, only sports a tape deck sans seat warmers. We're high-class, up-to-date people, I'm tellin' ya. Anyway, it was dark outside, the roads were pretty much empty and there I was, alone, listening to Alison Krauss.
I love Alison Krauss. The best part about my "date" with Alison was that I had a totally emotionally-satisfying experience. I was listening to her CD, A Hundred Miles or More. I love folksy, bluegrass, backwoods music. And I love her voice. Pure, simple. I love to FEEL, and she ran the "emotional gamut" in her music. Also, the fact that I had the music so loud it resonated through my entire body might have contributed, in a small part, to my "feeling" the music. I love when I can blast my music and sing out, pretending that I AM Alison Krauss! It doesn't happen very often. I have to be in the right mood. So, basically, the music quenched some subconscious emotional need, so I was happy.
I came home and "not a creature (or child) was stirring," except my sweet husband, watching Seinfeld re-runs, waiting up to help me unload. That's my guy. Now the groceries are put away and I'm off to kiss my little, sleeping angels. One thing I love, love, love is watching my babies while they sleep.