Sometimes, I stay up late at night while the rest of the house sleeps. Sometimes I read, sometimes I write, sometimes I reminisce with an old movie. At such times I feel I have the whole house to myself. Though I am equally comforted knowing that my loves lay dreaming beneath their blankets not far from me. There is peace and quiet late at night. The cat sleeps beside me and I sacrifice an hour or two of sleep in return for quiet concentration.
It's times like this that I can slowly unravel the secrets of turning a heel when knitting a sock. I tuck myself in satisfied with my efforts. When the children wake me earlier than usual those mornings following, I sometimes regret having stayed so long from bed the night before.
But not when I have a heel as evidence of my evening.
