i love nights like these. when you step outside and the slow, warm breeze envelopes you. and you watch the tall grass in the goat pasture sway in tune with the rustle of the maple leaves. every organic surface seems to glow in the golden rays of the setting sun. and your sparkalicious ding dong (you do have one, don't you?) peeks back into your recently and unnecessarily upgraded (don't ask) iphone to interrupt your picture. (ok, you didn't ask but i can't help myself...long story short---my shoe love made me temporarily misplace my trust in mall-goers of america and my momentarily unguarded phone was liberated)
and that same waft brings the sweet smell of fresh grass and newly cut wood...
wood that will be your dreamy butcher block countertop.
....and you clearly replace the memory of the pretzel-like ride back from seattle with your counter tops partitioning you into a teensy corner of your car with the thought of your anticipated laundry-slash-craft space counter tops.