It's the way the aroma of the stovetop espresso billows through the apartment in the morning. I want so desperately to stay in bed for another hour, or ten, but the coffee has been made and it is time to rise. Gaby has woken before me, as he always has and always will, and made me fresh coffee, as he always has. Most days he brings it to my bedside, and I sit up and prop a sleepy-eyed Lucien on my bended knees while I sip it in bed. Goodness do I love my coffee in bed.
It's the way the rain pounds violently against the glass of the bay windows by our bed. It showers down into the early morning, enclosing our little limestone apartment in a calming bubble of white noise, as city rainstorms always do, and by late morning it has passed. The flowers in the garden and herbs in the window boxes shine bright with life after the storm, and it seems to have infused us all as well. So on this particular day, outdoors we go, coffees in hand, for a late morning on the stoop.
It's the way wearing a floor-length skirt after a rainstorm makes me feel like I live in a storybook. Lucien sits in my lap, Gaby plays with Biet by the garden, and we sip our coffees as the sun glows through the white clouds. I kiss my son and think to myself that I always want to remember what it feels like to hold him as a wee baby boy. Because one day, many years from now, after many more rainstorms and many more morning coffees, he will be grown. And then I'll think back on these simple mornings and these little things.
It's the little things.
This pretty blue skirt was generously sent to me by Shabby Apple. I'd like to thank the Shabby Apple team for being so lovely to work with, and personally attest to the perfection of this skirt. The fit and color and weight of the fabric are all spot-on for a floor-lengh skirt (although I did have to order one size up- I wear an 8 but needed a 10 in this style). Bravo, Shabby Apple! (and I'm eyeing this bikini next) :)