Friday, February 10, 2012

Warm and fuzzy ,soft and cozy...

I'm sitting in front of a roaring fire, with a glass of Pinot Noir in one hand - and Princess Petunia by my other, whilst we're snuggled in a blanket watching television as I type this. 
(Let me clarify, she is watching television; I am patiently awaiting the show to end so that she and I can have our "American Idol:Hollywood Week" catch up session on DVR.  I promise each week not to watch so that she and I can catch up together on Friday here I sit and wait.)

It's funny how the fire evokes such a feeling of home for me.  I never had a fireplace growing up, so I'm not exactly sure why; maybe it's just a concept of what I always felt home should be like?  Or maybe, it's because it reminds of me of my aunt's house, which always was like a second home to me when I was little.  I used to love to sit in front of her fireplace, especially on Thanksgiving....I even remember one particular time when I fell asleep in front of it one random time when I was having a sleepover. 

The snap. crackle and hiss of the fire - which has a smell much more subtle than a bonfire in the yard -- is one of the simplest pleasures in life that make me the happiest.

Along with sitting beside my Princess Petunia, of course....

1 comment:

Suldog said...

I think it's probably more something in our DNA, to love a fire and find it comforting. I never had a fireplace, either, but I always get some sort of warmth other than the fire when I'm near one.