Resting

Resting against the woodpile

It's above freezing today and the water drips off the melting roof.  We're heading home from the lake.  I always sleep better at the lake.  Maybe it's the pink room.  Maybe it's the 180 degree open view.  Maybe it's the comforting wood fire.  Whatever it is, we'll be driving away from those things, and heading towards a blue-green room, a home surrounded by woods and a noisy oil burning furnace.  But there will probably be tools resting against something there too.  We're retired.