I’m in my loft. After the day (week, month…..year?) I had at work I need something different to recharge my batteries tonight. Regrettably I didn’t bring a cocktail with me.

What I did bring was a lamp from the basement, which now casts a most agreeable glow as I slink in my black leather chair. I was going to read a couple magazines, and made it as far as browsing a catalog before my plan was briefly thwarted by calls from two very inquisitive little guys, one floor below.

I gingerly navigated the ships ladder and plucked one in my arms and spotted the other up the steps. It was a nice, if brief, visit punctuated by a short commentary on the loft carpet (“this is nice carpet dada”). A handful of leaps and spins of the globe the visit was over and elevator dad was back in action returning his guests to their regularly scheduled level.

The loft is a great place to decompress it turns out. I opened opposite corner windows and generated my own little night breeze. To satisfy one’s audible needs I have chirping frogs and crickets from the south vernal water hole and the hum of the interstate freeway to the north. Outside during the day you don’t notice the highway unless you listen for it. But at night, or at least tonight it sounds wonderful. Calmly deciphering the song: discerning engine brakes, droning tires and wisp-ing cars.

I haven’t been up here much but it’s a decent away room. Even though I should be working on something or at least paying attention to the family, it’s nice to sneak up here.

Ok I should get back. Catch ya later.

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