But then, the weather in Maine in March felt perfect. No mosquitos. On a whim, I lit a fire. We collected the random sticks the dogs insisted on bringing into the yard all winter and had a fire the whole evening.
We didn't read oodles of books snuggled under my fave wool blanket.
We instead listened to fairy tales and stories I memorized all snuggled close together outside fireside.
How lucky am I that either scenario is perfection in it's own way?
That looks like a very, very good night to me! :)
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