We had a simple dinner of grilled smoked pork chops, baked potatoes and baby greens.
We had a simple dinner outside, at a little bistro table next to the fire bowl in the back yard.
We had a simple dinner, overlooking the lake and the deer.
We had a simple dinner under the hopeful gaze of two dogs who thought they were very hungry.
We had some white wine.
No music, except the soft notes of a wind chime and whisper of breeze high in the treetops.
We talked. We talked about nothing and about everything, but no mention of crime, politics, drama, turmoil, illnesses or any other unpleasant topic.
It was a no-pan dinner, so cleanup was almost nothing.
The sun went down, the fire crackled, we sipped our wine and basked in the pure pleasure of a simple life.
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