a morning of contentment

sitting at the table after the first cup of tea. Alan is sleeping. I am staring out to either the blue sky (left window) or the trees and the sea (front of me). Can't hear the birds, (blush) the heater is switched on and is a bit old and noisy, but the mornings are cool. Nothing is hurting, even if this kitchen chair fails to be comfortable. Just started a new, interesting looking book on kindle, when not staring outside or at the laptop. The sun just made it to the gap between the trees, sparkles splendidly. I try not to think about the things I am trying not thinking about and that is the only, if imperfect, peace of the human condition.