Well, first of all, the weather: 70s, clear, dry, breezy. A fabulous Saturday.

With so many blueberries at their peak, I made a batch of blueberry muffins. Then, because the flour and eggs and sugar were out there anyway, I made a batch of brownies.

Then I put all the ingredients for a beef stew into the slow cooker and set it for seven hours.

I played probably 5 games of Words with Friends.

I got an email from a dear friend whom I hadn't heard from in two years.

I watched some casting tapes of young actresses being considered for the role of Fiona in The Giver.

I refilled the bird feeder.

I ate a coupe of cherry tomatoes right off the vine and they tasted like sunshine.

Ben and Lori came by after an afternoon on their boat and Ben figured out why my TV wasn't working.

The kitchen smelled delicious but they were off to meet friends for dinner so they didn't stay.

I decided to begin reading "A Constellation of Vital Phenomena" by Anthony Marra and when I settled myself on the couch, the dog curled up by my feet, and the cat, after testng several  vouptuous postures, settled into a slutlike pose draped over my waist.

In the background, the Red Sox are playing the Diamondbacks.

I am picking up my new car on Thursday.

My book is good. My stew is good. So far the Red Sox are good.

Some days are just plain lovely, even if nothing really happened.