Seated by the fire in a tissue weight turtle neck. The weather is fine enough for both, and storytelling, too. The best ones have more than one teller, our interruptions building each after the other, gestures cast in shadow against patio chairs and pavement. The hiss of old logs are a whispering chorus, the chatter of a restless audience. They weren't there and had to be, I guess.
We bought wine glasses today to toast with at the wedding, and after. It seems like we keep bringing permanent things into the house, though we've lived here now, together, for years. Even white plastic light switch covers seem an improvement, a cozy touch compared with the standards stained with age. On our grocery list M scratched things to buy when we come back from the honeymoon. Perhaps my excitement over light fixtures and ceramic tile is indicative of how old and idle I'm getting.
Though the champagne flutes weren't on sale and we wouldn't pay full price. Maybe we aren't so gentile after all.
It's hard to shoot for the champagne flutes that are on sale (unless they're the absolutely fabulous ones that are Lenox or some sort like that!) ... I ended up purchasing a set that were just as pretty as what I had originally wanted, but less because you bought it as a set instead of separately (the like ones I orginially wanted). As long as they're what you want, it's all that matters!
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