Dryer humming on a load of towels, four inches of snow on the deck, in October, in Virginia. Clean kitchen. Warm, fuzzy blanket on my lap, dark chocolate Reese's cups, green tea, hard-working husband. Long nails (it's weird) painted a dark gunmetal gray, plans for an evening of mac and cheese and inside jokes with my sibs, despite the snow. This feels like home and normal and contentment.
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