Last night my hosts invited me to join them for dinner. They own the ranch I'm calling home for the next few days. They graciously let me have the run of their tiny-house cottage so I could work in the area without having to rent a hotel.
There was another couple with their kids visiting the ranch. He is a colonel at the nearby military base. She is a stay at home mom. The kids, three of them, are a sophomore, senior, and electrician. They were lovely company, the entire family.
Debbie, the lady of the ranch, made a pot of venison and rice. She opened a bottle of red wine just to share with me (She doesn't drink red wine.). She and her husband, Tip, put out a spread of salad, homemade rolls, and the aforementioned venison stew.
The lot of us, Tip, Debbie, family of five, and me sat around the ranch table and shared a lovely evening. The lot of us laughed and told storied. The lot of us wondered off to bed in our respective homes for the night. Clouds skimmed by. The sun set a few hours ago. It was quiet, the kind of quiet you can't find in cities.
I woke this morning, Sunday morning, to a cloudy sky and a slight breeze. I brewed a pot of pecan flavored coffee and sat on the front porch, taking in the cool air and lack of noise.
I said goodby to the family. They had the run of the "citadel" a thee bedroom guest house just to the north of my tiny-house. I unrolled my trusty travel yoga towel on the floor. I moved easily through a series of poses for just over an hour.
I left mid-morning to go searching for a witness.
I'm back now, sitting on the front porch of the tiny-house. It's quiet. The kind of quiet you can't find in cities.
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