The heat from a renovated, painstakingly cleaned fireplace filled with logs hand cut by my father.
The smell of hand chopped onion, roasted beets from the garden, and sizzling bacon.
The sound of the banjo music streaming from the iPod.
My Dad tapping his feet as he relaxes from the day while watching the flames.
The knock on the door as a 20-something Clean Air and Water Act representative walks in and tries to get the family to sign a petition to get the government to give more support to the environment. My Dad obliges, putting on his reading glasses and asking a couple questions regarding the 60 bucks he's about to cough up.
The gust of evening air as the brown sweatshirt clad guy leaves the house looking grateful for the warmth and kind regards.
"What was that about?" ringing out from the kitchen as Mom #2 continues with her prep for tomorrow's feast.
My toes wiggling to the beat of the bluegrass music in anticipation of the juicy bird and creamy mashed potatoes I know I will eat too much of tomorrow.
The red wine on the table that keeps winking at me, even though I've already had two glasses.
The text from my sister regarding her evening plans.
I sink back into my chair and type this all out, because, good lord, this is a day in the "Life of Riley."
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