Silence is perfect sometimes

One beautiful thing I experienced today:

Six hours of quiet time at home, with no children and no husband and no work knocking around in my brain. That's right; I cleaned and listened to music and cleaned some more. There is such satisfaction in order and cleanliness, of everything in your life sorted just so, especially when it was particularly messy before. It's good, honest work, too: chipping dried squished blueberry, now purple-black, from the dining room floor, vacuuming crumbs, washing, drying and sorting all the laundry, getting rid of every last bit of trash.

Maybe it's not poetic, but it's the most content I've felt in quite some time.

Listening: He's My Brother, She's My Sister, "Tales That I Tell"