Today it is warm outside, light cloud and sunny patches. A snail pinged off the patio door as I slid them open, landed upside down on the decking.
Planning for the day, vague before coffee, now coalesced into one choice; reading in the sunshine.
I have the last half of "The Terrorists" to finish (the last in a series of ten books by Maj Sjöwall and Per Wahlöö), and that will be another of my "12x10 category" challenges completed.
And "The Dead House" - the fifth book in Harry Bingham's Fiona Griffiths series has arrived on my Kindle app. I looked for a "dead tree" copy in the bookshop yesterday, before the poetry readings, but it hadn't arrived there yet. I much prefer a book - especially in the sunshine, but will not let that hinder me today.
It is the choosing as much as the sunshine that makes me content. Even though this day may not be much different to other days, today I chose that this was the way I wanted to spend my time. I didn't drift into it, like so many other days. Cloudy lemonade, the smell of fresh washing, and perhaps a baking fruit cake later, these are things to embellish that choice. Today, I choose to be happy alone.